Long Hollow

Slide Projectors and other sweets

 

 

Last Saturday night I pulled out my grandmother's slide projector, propped it on my kitchen table, and went back in time through the images splashed on the wall above our stairs. 

Most I had never seen before, like the one above of my grandmother standing in a field of bluebonnets. What you are seeing is actually an iPhone capture of the projection on my wall. I felt the need to share these with my siblings and cousins, and that was the fastest way.

The quality was greatly diminished, of course, but I felt it gave them the same dreamy quality I was feeling as they carried me back to my childhood.  To me, this one looks more like a painting than a photograph. Don't you think so?

One of my cousins (the one on the left in the image below) has offered to scan all of these. She is also the one who regularly visited my mom, always bringing new clothes and treats, so her generous offer doesn't surprise me. I am blessed to have her!

(The beauty on the right is my big sister. The little brat in the middle is me, of course.)

 

 

In my opinion, that was definitely a sweet way to spend a Saturday night, and the gratitude and reactions from my family even sweeter.

Here are some other sweet!s from the past week...

 

A tiny hummingbird appears to have taken up residence off of our back deck.

Since I no longer keep a hummingbird feeder, this seems strange to me.

(I read several years ago that the sugar-water can turn rancid really fast in the extreme heat of our Texas summers, potentially poisoning the little birds. It's necessary to change out the water often, and I don't trust my memory to do so.) 

So the semi-regular sightings of this busy little bird is such a joy. Several times it has flown close to me as I stand saying my prayers near the railing, and this morning it flew up to my library window, just a couple of feet away from me at my desk. 

My mother was partial to hummingbirds. I like to think she somehow has a hand in sending this one to say hello... and make me smile.

(How can you not smile when you see a hummingbird?)

 

I have no photos of it, but I do have this one of Lake Austin taken from a home an agent friend was holding open this afternoon.

I was on my way home from showing properties to a high school friend's son, so I decided to stop and say hi to my agent friend, and check out the listing. Three sweet!s in one trip!

 

 

I'm still working my way through the mountain of my mom's things in my living room. Yesterday's box was full of some items from her room at the nursing home.

Overall, I'm at peace with her passing. But for some reason emptying this box made me acutely aware of the physical absence of her from my life, especially seeing her Bible bag, which contained both her and Daddy's Bibles, along with several notes tucked in the pages, and also a cardboard Easter egg box I gave her full of Hershey's miniatures this past Easter. There were still several pieces of candy left. 

Now, I believe in heaven, and I know it is much better than chocolate. And I truly am happy that Mama is at peace and with Daddy now. But the tears came anyway, and I let them. 

I still count this as a sweet!, because to miss someone, they first had to be a part of you. To feel sorrow or sadness, you must have also felt joy and happiness and love.  

They were and I did. Amen. 

 

 

I had a second article published in TexasHillCountry.com called "Beyond the Bluebonnets - 5 Other Things You Should Know About Willow City", about a small town near Enchanted Rock, one of my favorite places. Yay!

Going to my office to pick up a commission check and discovering another one I hadn't expected!

Another University of Texas mom calling me for help, based on referrals from other parents.

 

One of my clients had specific requirements and a busy work-travel schedule. After working with her off and on for about a year, we finally closed on a property last week that turned out to be just what she was needing.  

We won in a multiple offer situation, so that was doubly sweet! To celebrate, we had lunch at the Shady Grove, one of my favorite restaurants. 

(This photo is of the back of the restaurant - taking a photo was an afterthought! But look at that tree!)

Summer nights... refreshing, soft breezes, stars speckling the sky, cicadas and frogs singing in the background. 

 

As usual, there were a few lakefront properties on the Lago Vista property tour this past week. I never get tired of seeing a full Lake Travis! 

Giving another agent a ride on the tour and getting to know her better.

Some friends from my church warning me they are trying to convince some friends in California it's time to move to Austin and want me to help them when the time comes. 

 

 

I spent the 4th of July outside, but not out on the lake or even in a park eating hot dogs and hamburgers. I took advantage of a holiday (and the sudden motivation) to mow our small front yard, organize my yard signs, and just generally clean up around the outside of our house.

Most importantly, I discovered the joy of a power blower! I had so much fun clearing the clippings and dead leaves off the porch floor... and then the small insect webs off the ceiling!

I didn't know it could do that! Much better than using a broom. 

Afterward, I rewarded myself with a Shiner Ruby Redbird beer on the porch swing. I don't normally drink beer, but it just seemed like the patriotic thing to do. 

(It was awesome!)

 

Despite the national tragedies of this past week, I hope all of you had plenty of sweet! moments. But more importantly, I hope you rededicated yourself to love and forgiveness, including forgiving the inexcusable. I believe it will take each of us doing that to attain true peace in our country and the world.

The only people with whom you should try to get even are those who have helped you. 

~John E. Southard

 

 

A few truly rich men I have known ...

 

A truly rich man is one whose children run into his arms when his hands are empty. ~Author Unknown

 

 

On one of the last visits I had with my Daddy before he passed - maybe even the last one - his face lit up in a smile at the sight of me and he hugged me tighter than I've ever been hugged before or since. 

If I close my eyes, I can still see that smile and feel his arms around me, holding on as if he never wanted to let me go. Just another gift from my sweet Daddy to add to my treasured memories. A gift that soothes me on days like today and triggers gratitude from every pore of my body that God blessed me with that man as my father. 

 

He didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it. ~Clarence Budington Kelland

 

 

God also blessed me with an amazing father-in-law. I didn't get to see him as much as my own father, but we were blessed to spend a lot of time with him and Mom, visiting at their home in Maryland and then Florida, traveling with them through Wisconsin, Yellowstone National Park, and Mexico, or having them visit us in Texas. 

After raising 9 boys, he loved each one of us daughters as his own, showing a softer side to us than he ever showed to his sons, I'm sure.

A month before his passing, we joined most of Tom's brothers and their families to celebrate Mom and Pop's 60th wedding anniversary. Pop hadn't been feeling well, but I managed to tease a bit of a smile out of him for the photo above. I had no idea it would be the last one I would ever take of him - or that the goodbye hug I received a day or so later would be the last.  That smile was a gift from him that I cherish, along with all of the others.

 

 

If your father is still around, available to hug or tease or photograph, don't pass up those opportunities. It may not be your last chance, but you'll be grateful for every single one you are able to stash away for later.

Believe me, "later" eventually shows up. 

 

On Father's Day, I also give thanks that God brought Tom into my life to be the father of my children, the three best gifts he's ever given me, even including the drums. 

They were all here today to celebrate him, not with store-bought gifts or cards (he thinks they are a waste of money) but with their cooking skills (a bacon and egg breakfast, followed by grilled hamburgers for lunch), their voiced appreciation, and their time, which is about the best gift a child can give their parent... or themselves.

I didn't snap any photos today, but here's a blast from the past...

 

 

For more Father's Day reflections, please read, "Dear Daddy" and "What a Father Does..." I hope you enjoy them! Be sure to share a favorite dad memory with me in the comments. 

If you are a dad, then I hope you have had a wonderful Father's Day!

Dad, your guiding hand on my shoulder will remain with me forever. ~Author Unknown

 

 

A Triple Celebration Day... and other sweet!s

 

 

Starting a sweet! journal was a great idea! For once, I've remembered to record them every day.

(At least for three weeks. But I think that's a record.)

I keep the journal open on my bathroom counter. Every evening I'm reminded to reflect on the day and the blessings I've received. It's funny how I might have to dig deep to think of the first one, but once it's out in the open, others start popping up with little effort. 

This past Saturday was sweet! all day long, because I spent the day celebrating happy occasions with friends.  It started with the wedding of a beautiful woman at our church... someone who is energetic and passionate and always giving of herself. I'm so glad she found someone who can obviously see and appreciate how beautiful she truly is.

 

 

I had time to witness the very moving ceremony (I don't usually cry at weddings, but when the groom choked up at this one, my eyes welled up along with his!) and visit with a few friends at the reception before heading down the road to a bridal brunch. 

 

 

You probably don't remember this, but back in September I attended the 30th birthday surprise party for a dear friend's daughter who I've watched grow up, and who has herself become a friend through a decade of sharing Port Aransas adventures.

Well, 30 turned out to be her best birthday ever! Her boyfriend, who was supposed to be in Iraq, showed up, dropped to his knee, and proposed to her. 

I get goosebumps just thinking about it again!

Instead of waiting for him to return again in a few months to have a big, fancy wedding, those two snuck off alone to the courthouse to get married before he headed back to finish up his tour. 

She missed out on all of those fun pre-wedding bridal showers, so a few of her friends decided to host a bridal brunch for her.  It was mermaid themed, and overflowed with adorable decorations and goodies to eat.  Plus, she got a lot of great gifts!

 

I was able to stay until the very end before hitting the road again, this time headed for Houston to attend a retirement party for Gene, a wonderful friend who started at DuPont a year after I did. He and another friend who attended, Larry, were like big brothers to me, and sweet! really doesn't describe how awesome it was to see them again and have a chance to share memories and laughs with them. It's amazing how forty years can just peel away in a heartbeat. 

 

There was an extra sweet! surprise during the party I hadn't anticipated. So serendipitous it still amazes me! Gene and his wife had several tables set up under a tent outside, each themed with places they want to visit. I was at the Texas table with a lot of people I didn't know. I introduced myself and asked how everyone knew Gene.

One of the women told me I looked familiar. I asked for her name. She told me, then introduced her husband. While her name didn't sound familiar, his triggered a memory. I leaned to get a good look at him around the centerpiece made of boots and a hat. 

"Were you a welder for H.B. Zachry years ago at the USI plant?"

He nodded. 

"I was your welder's helper. For two months in 1978, anyway. I remember you because you were such a nice guy. Thank you!"

It seems kind of amazing to me now that I've remembered his name, and even his face, all of these years. I only worked there two months, and I wasn't actually his dedicated welder's helper. I mostly roamed around at the end of the day gathering the 'weld count'. During the day my supervisors had me sit in the welding shack, checking out tools. In reality, they had me there to guard against theft. There were a lot of unscrupulous people working there, a lot of 'edgy' characters. 

I don't remember any of their names, but I remember Bobby. He was a good guy, plain and simple. He stood out from the rest without doing anything at all, except being nice and polite and normal. Maybe we had some conversations, but I've forgotten them now. Just knowing he and one or two other nice guys were out there made me feel safe.

But I was still grateful to leave that construction site behind!

Anyway, it felt like I had come full circle in some way. 

 

There's another sweet! surrounding this whole weekend.  For years, I stayed with my parents when I came back to Houston for reunions or other events. I never had to think twice about it.

That's no longer an option.

However, I have a sweet friend who always opens her door to me, as long as they are in town themselves. I get my own room in their beautiful home. On this trip I was grateful to have time before and after Gene's party to relax and visit with her... and with her puppies, Millie, Maybe, and the magnificent Maverick.

Isn't he gorgeous?

He loves me. 

Well, he loves anyone who pays him attention.

 

I made a quick stop at my childhood home to retrieve a small chest that fit in my car that  I realized I could use. This time, as many times before, I knew there was a very good chance it was my last visit.

Each time gets a little easier. This was the third time in two weeks I've been there, but I'll save that for another post, along with quite a few other sweet!s. 

Because it's now after midnight and time for bed.

And it's also my birthday. Sweet! Have a wonderful Wednesday!

 

"The first fact about the celebration of birthdays is that it is a good way of affirming defiantly, and even flamboyantly, that it is a good thing to be alive."

~G.K. Chesterton

 

Promises Kept... a sweet catch-up

A few days ago, I traded my phone for an umbrella when I took Belle for our morning run/walk down our dirt road. And that's why I don't have a photo of  the most beautiful rainbow ... a perfect arch above the horizon, and below it, a summer-blue sky that winked at me from behind stormy gray clouds, and then finally, a river of cream-colored clouds that flowed just above the treetops.

I had to just stop and soak it all up for a few minutes, that perfect reminder of promises kept. Belle understood. She's very patient with me. 

The storms that brought much-needed rain finally moved on and that blue sky has ruled every since. As grateful as I was for the rain, I was relieved when it ended. I get tired of umbrellas, wet shoes, and windshield wipers. 

But still, the rain is definitely on my sweet! list for the past (gulp) month and a half, and by scrolling back through time on Facebook, I remembered a few others...

My new camera strap arrived, and Tom attached it to my old camera. It was my Christmas gift from my son and his wife, but was backordered. So it was like celebrating Christmas twice!

(Yes, that's tape on the card slot. Hey, it works!)

 

The Pedernales River is full! This is the view from one of my lot listings. Know anyone who wouldn't mind looking at this every day?

 

Bluebonnets!

 

The woods are splashed with redbud blossoms, and my crape myrtles are budding. Maybe this year they will actually flower! 

 

I took advantage of a few minutes alone in the house and played my drums for the first time in ages. 

 

Reese's peanut butter eggs have hit the shelves. A curse and a blessing!

 

Before going to Sunday Mass, I've been attending Baptist services with Mama and TG .

It was TG's idea, which is doubly sweet! because neither of them are morning people, but they are doing it for each other. And what a blessing that members of the nearby Baptist church come in to provide the services for the residents. We literally wheel my mom into the room next to hers!

I'm actually enjoying spending my entire morning in church. I confess I didn't think I would!

 

On a completely different note, I also enjoyed getting to view the Bongo house for a client, and picturing in my mind that infamous episode in Austin's history...

 

When my friend Rachel told me Stoney LaRue was playing in Cedar Park, just down the road, I made an exception to my rule about staying up late during the week to go hear him with her.  It was worth it!

 

I took a road trip with my daughter to San Antonio one weekend, via Highway 281, which meanders through small towns and the hill country with very little traffic, so it was truly a sweet! in itself.

But I went for TG's boyfriend's graduation from his TACP school, which is such a huge accomplishment, such a physical and mental challenge, and I'm glad I could congratulate and thank him personally. 

 

Plus, being in San Antonio that weekend meant I could help a dear friend celebrate her 50th birthday party in 70's & 80's style. We danced until almost 2 am. Whew! (An extra sweet! - finding just the right dress to wear in TG's closet at the last minute!)

 

The next day TG's boyfriend introduced me to the King William district of San Antonio, full of great architecture and eclectic restaurants. I kept my camera clicking. 

That's macaroni and cheese and cole slaw you see peeking out of the BBQ sandwich below. It was awesome! 

 

Would you  believe we lucked upon a puppy birthday party? A massive pitbull sporting a birthday hat is a definite SWEET!

 

My cousin posted parts of old family videos on Facebook. Seeing myself in action at 6 years old... seeing my young mom hugging my oldest brother, and so many other family members who have passed was truly a sweet!, even though it brought me to tears. 

 

I spent a gorgeous afternoon with friends in Spicewood on Lake Travis, exploring their neighborhood in a golf cart, taking photos of  it and their  golf course lot I have listed for sale.  Just spending time with them was sweet!

 

I won a bottle of Dom Perignon at a new home REALTOR event at Travisso. That was sweet! but the occasion that warrants popping the cork will have to be really sweet!

 

I battled two mornings of the worst Austin traffic to get to the all-day classes, but I earned my CNE designation - Certified Negotiation Expert. 

Watch out world!

 

Friends graciously open their home every year for a Super Bowl party. I don't pay much attention to the game, but do enjoy getting a chance to catch up them and other friends. 

This year, it was extra sweet! because of this sunset on a full Lake Travis. That cove where docks are now floating again had been dry for at least 4 years.

 

And last but not least, by pure luck I happened to catch this group of bicyclists coming down our dirt road hill.  It's probably the last time I'll see it, too, although they fared better than I thought they would!

 

I'm grateful for my phone camera that helps me capture so many sweet!s of each day, which means a higher likelihood of remembering them, but there are some simpler ones that do slip away...

... like an unseen cardinal whistling at you, or the glimpse of a strange wild bird running on the dirt road in front of you, as I witnessed yesterday afternoon. 

So I started keeping a Sweet! Journal this week, with the intent to list them all day long. They may not all make it here to Long Hollow, but at least I'll have them recorded somewhere to remind me on those days I forget how blessed I am.  I hope you have a way to remember your blessings, as well.

 

We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.

~Thornton Wilder

 

Drumroll please... It's my 2015 Christmas Letter!

 

 

 

The day after I mailed my Christmas cards this year, I came across my Christmas letter from 2009. It was in one of the boxes I brought from my parents' home. In it, I read about what each one of us had been up to that year. For one thing, I discovered Facebook that year! But we also lost our Charly Dog.

I can't believe it's been 6 years.

Immediately after reading it, I was filled with regret that, for the first time in years, I just sent out plain Christmas cards, with nary a photo or letter in sight. For some reason, I felt it was important to get my cards in the mail for a pre-Christmas arrival. That had never bothered me before.  Why the heck now?

Even before I began adding letters, I tucked a photo of the kids into my card. For the past few years I've sent photo cards, but even they give a glimpse at the year's events. I love seeing photos of my friends and hearing about their past year, so of course they want to hear about mine, right?

But this year, for some reason, I just punted.  Too busy? No excuse. Keeping it simple? Why start now?

So here we go ... for my sake and enjoyment more than yours ... my 2015 Christmas letter that I wish I had sent with my cards...

 

Hello Friends and Family,

In many ways, 2015 was just like 2014... Tom is still working at Freescale, except they sold the company again and now it's named NXP or something,  and I'm still growing my real estate business and loving it. In his spare time Tom continues to work on the house or cars (they take a beating on our dirt road) and in my spare time I write and work on my photography ... except, unfortunately, neither of us has had much spare time this year, so there hasn't been much progress in any of those areas. 

(Please give us some warning if you plan to visit.)

However, the kids are doing great. Tommy celebrated his 30th birthday this month by bungee-jumping over a river in New Zealand! He and Kirby are already planning their next adventures - to Abu Dhabi and Iceland! He is still a Liberty Mutual Insurance Agent (and I would recommend him even if he weren't my son!) and in their spare time they run marathons and embrace life in Austin. 

Daniel is still working as an assistant librarian at the State of Texas Library and Archives, with a side job of editing short stories for an anthology. Right up his literary alley. He also just bought his first new vehicle.

TG just finished up at the University of Texas, with a Bachelor's degree in geography (also a math minor, Business Foundations, emphasis on mechanical engineering, geology, and environmental science.) She's now looking for a job, so let me know if you know of one! This fall we attended her boyfriend's graduation from Air Force boot camp in San Antonio, and he will be celebrating Christmas and New Year's with us, before heading back to training.

My mom lives about 15 minutes down the highway from us in a wonderful nursing facility. It was a rough adjustment for her, but she's in her second year and seems to finally feel at home there. Or at least she's resigned to it, and making the most of it. Her smile is never far away. I feel blessed to be able to visit her every day.

My real estate business continues to grow. I've been busier than ever this past year, thanks to recommendations from friends and past clients, and I love it more with each transaction. I earned my GRI designation (Graduate of Real Estate Institute) this year and also became a member of the Institute for Luxury Home Marketing. 

I've made several trips back to Houston this year, although not for fun reasons. My sister and I are in the process of emptying our childhood home; every Saturday over the summer I made a one-day trip to sort through drawers, boxes, and closets, each time filling my car with boxes which now form a small mountain in the middle of my living room. I've named it "Phase 2".

I've also had to return to Houston for too many funerals. Within a month one friend lost her mom and another lost her son. These sandwich years are tough, but being able to support friends when they need it is a true blessing, as is having friendships that go back to single-digit birthdays.

Belle loves being a house-dog. She was a natural - no training required.  Although I do wish we could train her to sweep up her own hair off the wood floors!

Thanks to record rains, Lake Travis is practically full again, along with our pond. It's an awesome sight...one I wasn't sure I would ever see again!

That's about it for 2015. May God bless you and your family in the coming year, and if you're ever out this way, please come see us!

Merry Christmas and Happy 2016!

 Love, the Shallue's

 

Not very exciting, I know. But with my fading memory, I'm sure I'll enjoy coming across this one day and reliving 2015, and all of its ups and downs. 

 

Farewell, old year; we walk no more together;
I catch the sweetness of thy latest sigh...
Good-bye, kind year, we walk no more together
But here in quiet happiness we part;
And from thy wreath of faded fern and heather
I take some sprays, and wear them on my heart.
~Sarah Doudney (1841–1926), "Farewell to the Old Year," in The Sunday Magazine, 1881

 

First Came Love...

First came love...

 

 

Then came marriage...

 

 Then came Tommy in a baby carriage!

(After a few years of pre-children fun, of course. And a new perm.)

 

 

Okay, you can't really see Tommy in that one, but trust me, he's in there.

Here's a better one.

 

 

Oh my gosh, isn't he precious?

 

He's come a long way... from slides on his first birthday...

 

 

...to bungee-jumping in New Zealand on his 30th.

This is afterward. I appreciate them letting everyone know they survived!

(He's the one in front on the right.)

 

 

Happy 30th anniversary of Tom and me becoming parents, and happy 30th birthday to my oldest baby! 

 

Lesson #84 (Happy birthday, happy Friday the 13th, and thank you, Mama!

 

 "You must have been a beautiful baby..." ~Johnny Mercer

 

 

Last week I asked my mom what she wanted for her birthday. She stared off for a few seconds, then looked at me and said "More time."

But there was a twinkle in her eye, and her mouth turned up in a grin as she added, "Can you tell I live in the present?"

What a wise woman. 

Even now, anchored to an oxygen machine, rarely leaving the small room she shares with another woman, and having to rely on others for even the simplest things, like having a glass of water near enough to drink, Mama finds enough joy in life to want to stick around awhile longer.

I know it isn't because she's afraid of death. My mom is a Christian. She has taught me all my life - and I know she believes it most of the time - that there is life after death, much more beautiful than this one, free of pain and sorrow. Most of her loved ones have gone before her...her parents, siblings, her firstborn, and her beloved husband.  

Despite what her life appears to be to us, she is still loving it. Her smile is always close to the surface, and she laughs often, finding joy in the simplest things. She loves her aides and nurses, her cups of coffee, her cookies, and the photos of Daddy, her kids, grandkids, and great-granddaughter hanging on the walls.

She does NOT like being told what to do, but that's understandable after years of being such an independent woman and caregiver to others.

For her sake - actually, for mine - I hope she gets her birthday wish, and that she finds joy in every extra second she is given. I believe she will. I know I will.

And in her honor, I will try my best not to waste a single second of the time I'm given with remorse or regrets of the past, or with wishing away my today for some future moment that may never come.

And I will continue to keep my eyes open for even the simplest sweet!s. Today they will include picking up some fried shrimp for her birthday dinner, then gathering with family to celebrate her and give thanks that she's in our lives.

 

 

On her 77th birthday, I listed the things she had taught me, and I've added to it every year. So without further ado, here's the list...

Things Mama has taught me...

1. it's never too late to learn something new
2. if you have a choice between laughter and tears, choose laughter.
3. don't let anyone mess with your babies!
4. only give advice when asked for it (I'm still working on that one)
5. pray every day
6. pray some more
7. reading a good book might not solve your problems, but it's a nice escape from them
8. bend but never break
9. some people are just takers
10. be nice whenever possible, but sometimes nice doesn't cut it
11. take care of family
12. we're all individuals - let your kids blossom into themselves, not "mini-me's"
13. be there
14. Johnny Weismuller is the best movie Tarzan
15. don't be in a rush to be older than you are - you're only going to be this age once in your life
16. if you like something, and you'll use it, and you can afford it, then buy it, or you'll regret it later
17. quality over quantity
18. never think "can't"
19. people will stand in line for a dead skunk if it's free
20. roll with the punches
21. have fun
22. laugh often
23. believe in yourself
24. don't let others change who you are
25. be honest
26. don't steal
27. forgive yourself
28. God loves me
29. don't judge
30. just do it!
31. inside matters more than outside
32. don't use God's name in vain
33. you can learn anything if you put your mind to it
34. you're never too old to dance
35. it's okay to ask for help
36. show appreciation and express gratitude
37. use my manners
38. consider the source
39. an office or position of authority should be respected, but the individual in that position has to earn your respect
40. sleep is good
41. take advantage of opportunities
42. keep your eyes open and your wits about you
43. people aren't always nice
44. things can't make you happy
45. use your imagination
46. just get started and the rest will be easy
47. don't be intimidated by anyone - we're all the same, all human, we all have strengths and weaknesses
48. you can love someone even if you don't like them
49. forgive but don't forget
50. learn from others' mistakes
51. there are times for being patient, and time for putting your foot down
52. speak up
53. stand up for what you believe in
54. admit your mistakes and expect others to do the same
55. persistance pays off
56. let your kids be kids
57. love unconditionally
58. take lots of pictures
59. kids grow up fast
60. your kids need a mother, not another friend
61. pets are family
62. help others
63. a sense of humor is essential for sanity and survival
64. if you look close enough, you can find something to love about everyone
65. coffee is good anytime
66. messes can be cleaned up
67. prayer works
68. God is strong all the time - let him carry you
69. if you say you're going to do something, do it
70. be nice to yourself in case no one else is
71. you have to show respect to get respect
72. girls are tough
73. don't put up with temper tantrums - yours or someone else's
74. listen to your body - doctors don't know everything
75. don't say everything you're thinking
76. asking questions is the best way to learn something
77. your babies are always your babies (and their babies are your babies, too!)
78. God is. 
79. Just listen. 
80. people are more important than things
    
81. there is a time to help others, and a time to let others help you
82. God has his reasons, and He will give you whatever strength you need for the road ahead...and never leave you to walk it alone.
83. smile and show appreciation to those who are willing to help you - they may have it tougher than you in many ways
84. Appreciate every second you're given, because life is beautiful.

 

(from last year's celebration) 

They're not gray hairs. They're wisdom highlights.

~Author Unknown

 P.S. Happy Friday the 13th anniversary to my husband!

Reflections on Veteran's Day

They are all around you, disguised as ordinary people. They may be generous or grouchy, quiet or boisterous, socialites or loners.  They come in all colors, sizes, and ages. They are our veterans... those who gave anywhere from three to thirty years of their lives, doing whatever our country needed them to do, wherever they were told to go. 

Tonight our church held a special dinner in their honor; at the end, each veteran was asked to give their name and tell a little about their service. I felt very humbled and grateful. My mind naturally drifted to those veterans I hold most dear, and I realized I hadn't yet published my annual tribute to them...

 

 

"Lord, if your people need me, I will not refuse the work. Your will be done."

~St. Martin of Tours

 

My big brother Buster was headed to Viet Nam, saying his goodbyes, when I stood beside him in this photograph and smiled. I had no idea what was ahead of him. This was probably taken before his first tour of duty and so he had only a vague idea himself what to expect.

When he volunteered for his second tour, however, he knew full well what he was stepping into...but he did it anyway. 

 

 

My dad was in high school when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. He joined the Navy soon after high school graduation because his country was at war and "it was the thing to do." 

In the next twenty-two months he traveled a long way from Texas aboard the U.S.S. Geneva...to places like the Philippines, the Marshall Islands, China, Burma, Japan.

Before he turned twenty, he had seen cities that had been destroyed by war and piles of dead bodies waiting to be buried. 

A few years later, his little brother Bobby followed his lead and joined the Navy, and many years later, so did my brother Donnie and two nephews.

 

Pop, my wonderful father-in-law, missed out on World War II, but joined the Air Force in time for the Korean War. He worked base supply in Okinawa, supporting bombers flying missions to Korea...about 100 aircraft every day.

He re-enlisted, got married, and hopped around the globe...living in England, Germany, and over a year in Pakistan, separated from his family (the other heroes - Mom had 8 teenage and younger boys to deal with by herself!)...visiting a dozen other countries...eventually staying put for awhile in Maryland, working with NSA (and a second job at the bowling alley to make ends meet), until his retirement.

A lifetime of service and sacrifice for this country.

 

 

My husband Tom was raised in that military family. For him it was normal to move every few years to someplace completely different...by the time he was eight or nine years old, he had lived in three countries!

He grew up on a tight budget ... hand-me-downs, powdered milk and only two cookies a day...period! And yet as soon as he could, he joined the service...the Coast Guard. Among other things, he helped rescue fisherman off the coast of Alaska.

Four of his brothers also joined the service (three career Air Force, just like their dad, and another Coast Guard) and the youngest joined the Army Reserves. Now the next generation is following in their footsteps: two Air Force and one Coast Guard, plus numerous cousins, nieces, and nephews. 

I think it's very fitting that Veterans Day shares November with Thanksgiving, a day when we slow down to remember and be grateful for things that we usually take for granted, because veterans, despite the sacrifices they make for all of us, probably don't even make it onto our Thanksgiving thank-you list.

That's how much most of us take them for granted - as well as the freedoms they protect for us. Even when our country isn't at war, they go where they are needed to unfamiliar places, away from extended family, often living on a minimum salary.

To many, they are a symbol of war, not peace, and sadly become targets of derision, scorn, blame... and even violence, like the sad incident at Ft. Hood a few years ago.

They deserve to be thanked every day of the year. A friend of mine says that when he's in a restaurant and sees a man or woman in uniform, he secretly pays their bill. What a wonderful idea! I think more of us should go out of our way every day to show our appreciation, but I'm glad there is at least one special day where we shine a spotlight on them, remember their sacrifices and make clear our gratitude.

Thank you Daddy, Tom, Pop, Buster, Donnie, Uncle Bobby, Uncle Howard, Kenny, Steve, Joe, Robbie, John, Sheila, Michael, Tom, Lynn, Robbin, Evan, James...and all of the other Veterans, past and present, out there! Because of you, we're free to go about our daily lives, without a thought in the world to how much that freedom costs or how much you've given.

"Freedom is never free."  ~Author Unknown

But let's hope we do remember the price, as well as those who, through their actions, say, "Don't worry. I got this."

Many at tonight's dinner brought up, with much pride, the current service of their sons and daughters, which reminded me of TG's boyfriend's Air Force graduation back in September. He's from a military family himself - his parents met while they were both in the Army. He's well aware of the commitment he's made.

So I'd like to thank TG's B and all of the others who are continuing to step up to fill those ranks for our country. I hope we all continue to show them the support they deserve. 

 

"This nation will remain the land of the free only so long as it is the home of the brave."

 ~Elmer Davis

 

"...as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."

 

My middle son turned 27 today. My "baby" turned 24 this summer and my oldest will be 30 in December. Yikes! 

I can only imagine how my mom feels, knowing her baby (me) is 56. But I can see in her eyes when she looks at me, even though our roles are somewhat reversed now, that I'm still her baby. 

Have you read that book, "Love You Forever" by Robert Munsch? 

Tonight, after TG and I sang "Happy birthday" to Daniel, we were laughing about the mom in the book... well, I don't want to give it away if you haven't read it.  

Some things never change, and like the mom in the book, my babies will always be my babies, even though they are all taller than me, and more often than not, they are the ones doing the teaching, not me.

They all know it, too, because I read that book to them over and over and over, laughing and crying every time. 

If you're a mom and you haven't read it, you need to. But have a tissue handy. I'm serious. 

"I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, As long as I'm living my baby you'll be."

Sigh.

But back to Daniel's birthday...

For the first time in a long time, I didn't make cyclops cookies. I just didn't have time. I shouldn't even be taking the time to write this now.

But, hey, you only celebrate the 27th anniversary of your middle child's birth once, right? So I bought him beer, which I hope kind of made up for no cyclops cookies.

 

 

Happy birthday, Daniel! Here's to many, many more!

Oktoberfest, Lago Vista Style!

 

 

St. Mary Our Lady of the Lake's Oktoberfest tradition started way before we moved to Lago Vista. Some of the aspects of it change from year to year, but overall it remains the same in two areas:

1. it's a lot of fun

2. it's the main fundraiser for our small church

Those are two good reasons why you and your family should come visit us between 10 and 3 this Saturday, if you are anywhere near the Austin vicinity.

All proceeds benefit church organizations, such as the St. Vincent de Paul Society, who use it to help the disadvantaged in our community, provide scholarships, finance youth activities, and support local first-responders, the Lago Vista Volunteers, seminarians, and more.

Sure, I know ACL is going on downtown. But if you're looking for something to do for the whole family, away from the craziness of Zilker Park during ACL, look no farther. This is it!

 

 

There will be games for the kids, with prizes. Games for adults, with prizes. A zipline for the kids. A classic car "show and shine" for all ages. 

 

 

Inside the church you'll find a silent auction, handcrafted items, baked goods, and frozen casseroles (although those sell out fast so you need to get yours early! You can pay for it and pick it up when you're ready to leave.)

We'll have a dunking booth and a washer tournament, of course. What's a small town festival without those?

Come hungry. We're offering bratwurst, turkey legs, hamburgers, hot dogs, giant soft pretzels.... lots of choices! 

 

Of course, there will be beer. What's an Oktoberfest without beer? Live Oak Brewing Company, which is Austin's oldest brewery, has agreed once again to donate plenty of keg beer for the day, and Capital Wright Distributing is donating plenty of Miller Lite, Coors Light, and St. Pauli Girl beer.

 

 

By the way, thank you for your prayers for Father Joe. He passed away soon after I wrote my last post, surrounded by his family. 

This year's Oktoberfest will be bittersweet because of his passing. He pastored the church for forty years, guiding it as it grew from a small gathering of ten families in a rustic campground building to an established parish caring for over 300 families.

He saw Oktoberfest as a way for the parish and community to come together for a good cause, and get to know each other as one family in the process. That was always very important to him. 

Rest in peace, Father Joe.

 

 

So come on down and help us make it the best ever!

St. Mary Our Lady of the Lake Catholic Church, 6100 Lohman Ford Rd., Lago Vista, TX

Saturday, October 10 from 10 am to 3 pm

If you can't join us on Saturday, please say a prayer for a successful Oktoberfest, and continue to pray for Father Joe's family. Thank you!

 

 

Happy birthday, Daddy!

 

My Daddy's been gone two years now, so it's truly a blessing that I can still see him in my mind, alive and well, with eyes twinkling. Even now, I turn to him in tough times and hear his voice encouraging me.

Photographs and blog posts help keep his memory fresh. I've spent the past twenty minutes reading over some old ones. My favorites are "Dear Daddy" and "When Wishes Come True", but "A Blessed Birthday" is bittersweet. It was the last birthday he celebrated on earth. 

I suspected it might be when I wrote it. 

My daddy was a great man. Of course, I didn't realize it for most of my life, because he wasn't great in the worldly way, and not even in the obviously spiritual way. He was humble. He didn't like a lot of attention aimed at him. But he was funny and generous and hardworking.

Most importantly, he loved with all of his heart, fiercely and unconditionally, hanging on despite the inevitable pain that love like that brings. That's true strength, I believe, and I want to live and love like that.

 

 

Thank you, Daddy. I love you and miss you and give thanks for you every day. May you be celebrating every day in heaven!

 

There’s something like a line of gold thread running through a man’s words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself.

~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994

 

Tonight, please keep another Father of mine in your prayers. Twenty years ago, when I knew it was time to make up my mind about becoming Catholic, Monsignor Joseph Schmitt, the pastor of our small church, agreed to meet with me one-on-one every Tuesday to answer my questions.

After a few months, I was confirmed a Catholic... and was quickly recruited by him to teach CCD. I often covered for the church secretary, so I spent many days working alongside him, having lively discussions over lunch, and then serving beside him on our church planning committee. He offered blessings on our vacations, comfort when we were in pain, and advice when we felt lost. 

 

Just a few months younger than my dad, Father Joe's health has been steadily declining. He's been in the hospital several days now and isn't expected to recover. I'm grateful I was able to stop and see him yesterday... to tell him thank you and let him know how grateful I am that he was a part of our lives. 

Please pray for peace and comfort, for him and his family. Thank you!

Blessed indeed is the man who hears many gentle voices call him father!

~Lydia M. Child, Philothea: A Romance, 1836

Finishing a blog post, and other sweet!s from September...

 

Tonight there's a super moon and lunar eclipse, all rolled into one event. I planned to take photos as the moon rose above the horizon, but discovered my camera battery was dead!

So I charged it some and then made it out in time to witness the eclipse with Daniel, who just arrived home safely from a weekend trip to west Texas with his brother, where they hiked through canyons, visited eclectic art exhibits, experienced a music festival, and even saw the Marfa lights. Sweet!

However, the photos I took of the eclipse are pretty lame because my equipment isn't quite high tech enough, so I'm not even going to share them here, but standing there in the quiet of the night with my son, watching the moon slowly turn dark, was just the peaceful break I needed after a hectic, high stress week. 

The thing is, September overflowed with sweet! moments, but it rushed by so fast, it was hard to really stop and savor them. So I'm determined to get back into the practice of recording them, in some form or fashion. And reviewing them here on my blog helps a lot!

So, working backward from the lunar eclipse, here are a few I've gathered this month...

 

Anticipation of an annual weekend at the beach with friends, which isn't as good as the actual weekend, but it's still a shining light full of hope! (This photo is from last year.)

 

Joining other council members from your church for an inspirational retreat. A peaceful setting, an energetic, passionate, funny leader, and a Pope Selfie, courtesy of an iPhone app! 

After viewing several properties with a young family, walking into yet another house and knowing immediately it was just the right one for them.

Remembering the night 34 years ago when you met your love for the very first time.

 

Walking your puppy in the glow of a glorious sunrise.

 

Finding out your friend has published another book! (Buy it on Amazon and I'll get a couple of pennies! Beneath this Mountain, by Byron Tully)

 

Thinking you're attending the surprise 30th birthday party of a girl/woman you've watched grow up, and then witnessing a proposal of marriage from her boyfriend who was supposed to still be in Iraq (on his 4th tour of duty, no less.) Whew! That was a lot of sweet!s for one night!

 

Hitting a pinata for the first time in 50 years! (This photo is obviously not me. It's my son, who got lots of practice thanks to all of his birthday parties growing up. But I do have a video of myself hitting it, courtesy of my daughter-in-law's cousin. (Thanks, Sierra!) I just have to say, hitting a pinata is GREAT therapy!)

 

Football Fiestas thrown by your kids. (My son and his wife are party meisters! Food, fun, activities, games, football on several televisions, and even crafts for all ages.) 

 

The Texas Capitol Rotunda.

 

Attending a Platinum Top 50 Real Estate Agents of Austin event at Lakeway Resort, and witnessing a gorgeous sunset on Lake Travis.

  

 Another sunset on Lake Travis.

 

 

Joining others to pray for a friend's baby grandson who will be undergoing heart surgery today, Tuesday, September 29. Please join us!

Celebrating a friend's birthday at an awesome Italian restaurant.

Not having to replace your whole air-conditioning system in your house... yet.

 

 Young love and heroes.

    Dinner and a movie with friends.

    Enjoying a performance by accordion players with your mom.

 

A day of sunshine and water on Lake Travis, with your son and daughter-in-law and friends.

 

 

Remembering and honoring a special person. 

 

(You may have guessed that I actually started this post last night. Probably even before that, but I had good intentions last night. What matters most, for me, is being able to look back through the quick iPhone photos to see that the month was truly full of special moments. Too often I let them pass and fade away, forgotten. Taken for granted.

Well, here's one for today. A sweet young couple closed on their current home today after having their offer on a new home accepted late last night. My job is full of ups and downs, but that was definitely one of the ups. 

So here's to an October full of balance and appreciation and focus, where no sweet! slips away unnoticed!)

 

"Gratitude is an art of painting an adversity into a lovely picture."

~Kak Sri

 

How do you hug a house?

 

So, house, we love thee, as we could not love
A palace wherein no pulse of love had struck,
Where farewells had not been—and where
No busy memories haunt the vacant rooms.
~J.J. Britton (1832–1913), "A Home"

 

 

 

I'm nearing the end of this summer's journey of clearing out my parents' home.

My childhood home. 

 

 

What began as a heavy weight upon my heart turned into a mission of love. I admit that when I began this project I was irritated they my parents hadn't taken me up on my many offers to help them sort through closets and boxes. 

I vowed I wouldn't leave a task like this for my kids. 

 

 

 

But it turned out to be a cathartic experience, after all...  the sorting, the remembering (thanks to my sister!) ... it all awakened a flood of happy memories centered in that simple house.

 

 

 

 Plus, I felt I was repaying my parents, doing something for them that they couldn't do for themselves. It had usually been the other way around. 

Although, it turns out Daddy had been doing a little sorting. The attic, a place I had feared all of my life and dreaded peering into during this process, turned out to be totally empty.

Thank you, Daddy!

 

Now I'm not so worried about leaving a project like this for my kids. (Sorry, kids! Blame your grandparents!)

But don't worry... I definitely plan to weed through and toss (I have way more stuff than my parents!) but I can see how the process can be a healing one.

As a good parent, how can I begrudge my children a healing experience?  

 

 

My kids were awesome, though, all three coming with me when they could, and even TG's boyfriend one Saturday, cleaning and sorting, and helping to carry furniture. Daniel is the one who actually braved the attic and saw that the coast was clear.  Whew!

And Tom is the one who truly helped lift the weight off my heart and helped me  begin to move forward; he whirled from room to room like the Tasmanian Devil, cleaning out pantries and drawers, making more progress in one day than I had in a week's worth of Saturdays.

None of us looked forward to the four-hour drive there and back every Saturday this summer, much less the three to four hours spent there sweating in an un-air-conditioned home in the Houston suburbs, in the hottest part of the day, in the hottest part of a Texas summer.

Ugh.

It was exhausting.

 

 

But my parents were extraordinary in so many ways, and again, I'm grateful we could do this for them. I'm glad their last days in the house were spent as if they would go on there forever, not spent sorting and preparing for the day they would no longer be there. 

 

 

It helped that most of the large pieces of furniture went to friends... or friends of friends. Who became new friends.

I took photos as we said goodbye, which in some weird way helped me let go.

I've already written about my grandmother's piano... 

 

 

Daddy's chair went to a young dad-to-be. I think Daddy would like it that it would be used to rock a baby. He loved babies.

 

 

The kitchen table was another tough one. So many holiday meals, school projects, and breakfasts by Daddy with my kids. 

So many hours reading Tarzan or Nancy Drew, and so many gallons of coffee consumed while just talking, talking, talking...

Oh, the stories that table could tell!

But... I didn't need the table. Honestly, it was stained with so much newspaper ink I knew it would need a good refinishing, and the last thing I needed was another project.

I'm satisfied to have my memories and hundreds of photos of holiday meals, breakfasts with Daddy, and birthday celebrations around it.

 

 So I said goodbye.

It's going to a new friend's mom's house, where I hope it will be the center of many happy memories-in-the-making.

 

 

But to answer my own question: "How do you hug a house?"

One way is to turn an estate sale into a celebration, where friends buy your furniture, keep you company, and bring wine to toast the awesomeness of growing up in a home that overflowed with love, where the good memories overpowered the bad ones by far.

 

 

Thank you, Rae, for making sure we celebrated instead of mourned. And thank you to all of the other friends who bought furniture, helped with the estate sale, or just stopped by to say hello on one of those Saturdays. It truly carried us through this. 

 

 

 

If you're faced with this journey, my advice to you is to embrace it. See it as the mission of love that it is, a last gift to your parents. Dive into the memories and embrace them, the good and the bad, because they are what made you distinctly you. 

Don't be afraid to hang on to too many photos or knick knacks. If there's any hesitation whether to keep it or toss it, just keep it. You can toss it later. It doesn't matter when you do it. It can be a process. 

But also realize that goodbyes are okay. Those objects did their job. They were part of your parents' lives - or your grandparents' lives or your brother's life, as in my case. They already served a purpose or brought joy.

They don't necessarily have to be a part of your life.

But I'm grateful for the memories I have, and the ones my sister can share with me, since she's older. I'm also so grateful I had her right beside me on this journey.

 

 

And I'm extremely grateful for all of the photographs I've inherited, along with the ones I've taken. They will keep that sweet old house alive even after we say our final goodbye.

 

 

You can never go home again, but the truth is you can never leave home, so it’s all right.

~Maya Angelou

Coach Christine and the Cosmos - the story continues...

Once upon a time, I was a soccer mom, sweating or freezing on the sidelines, gripping the arms of my collapsible chair, or pacing up and down, trying my best to bite my tongue, when I couldn't sit still.

And then TG joined the Cosmos, and Coach Christine took all of my angst onto her own shoulders. I no longer had to pace or coach from the sidelines. She paced up and down, shouted when and what I longed to shout, got angry when I was angry...

I was finally able to sit on the sidelines and enjoy the game. What a relief!

It was after TG had graduated from high school and said her goodbyes to the Cosmos that we learned of Christine's cancer, and then later, of her passing. It inspired me to write about her in "Coach Christine, Queen of the Cosmos."

But Christine's passion and joy extended beyond the soccer field. As a registrar for the Leander School District, she touched many lives, and that's why the district decided to name a new school after her this year.

And if that isn't awesome enough, that a district would name a school after a mom/registrar, the mascot for the school is the Cosmos. 

TG and I attended the dedication of the elementary school yesterday afternoon. Coach David and Christine's brother, who they adopted at age 11 when their mom passed away of cancer, spoke about Christine's bravery, passion, and high standards. Her daughter and two sons sat on the stage, smiling at the recognition given to their mom. She would be proud of them. 

Christine juggled two jobs, coached a couple of soccer teams, shuttled three kids to practices, managed a household, and took on the responsibility of raising her brother, all with a huge smile. She showed no favoritism. All were loved and criticized equally.

That's what I already knew - and loved - about her.

What I didn't know was she also helped some of the girls on the Cosmos with their college applications and paid their application fees when they balked about going.  She grew up in Harlem, New York City, valedictorian of her high school, and won scholarships to a prep school in New England and went on to Lehigh University.

She believed in education and accepted no excuses. 

So kudos to Leander School District for recognizing that Christine Camacho absolutely deserved to have this new school named after her. It was probably my imagination, but I could sense Christine there... so much energy and joy and excitement. 

Coach David asked the Cosmos girls to stand up. There were six or seven of them there, out of about 20 who wore the Cosmos jerseys. Pretty impressive, considering they are all in their early 20's now, and many no longer live in the area.

At the end of the dedication , they joined the staff in the Cosmos chant... 

"C! o-s-o-s M! o-s-o-s C! o-s-o-s M! o-s-o-s COSMOS!"

That chant, and the Cosmos, will live on forever... in Leander, Texas. That makes me very happy.

 

I hope you rest in peace, Christine, knowing that the seeds you planted are blooming and thriving. 

 

Some people say soccer's a matter of life or death, but it isn't.  It's much more important than that. 

~Variation of a famous saying

On a Friday the 13th...

 

Thirty-three years. That's officially how long Tom and I have been married as of this evening, around 6 or 7 pm.

And they said you couldn't find lasting love in a bar...

 

...No more looking for love in all the wrong places
Looking for love in too many faces
Searching your eyes, looking for traces
Of what.. I'm dreaming of...
Now that I found a friend and a lover
God bless the day I discover 
You, oh you, lookin' for love.

~Wanda Mallette and Patti Ryan

 

(For our first dance as a married couple, we chose "Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places."  Yes, really! And I still love that song!)

They also said getting married on a Friday the 13th was bad luck...that once Tom graduated from college with his degree he'd dump me...that building a house together was suicide for a marriage...

We proved them all wrong.

At least for thirty-three years, now, anyway. If I've learned one thing since my wedding day, it's to not take your love or marriage for granted. To say we've had our ups and downs is putting it mildly...and it can turn in a heartbeat.

But if it ended tomorrow, I'd have no regrets. Meeting Tom that fortuitous night in the Diamondback Saloon was a blessing...a seed that continued sprouting and blooming into a garden of blessings.

I'm so grateful for each and every one of these thirty-three years...even the bad ones, because they helped me appreciate the good ones.

 

photo by bloom photography

 

(I've also learned that thirty-three years can go by really fast!)

Happy 33rd anniversary to the love of my life!

...But the greatest of these is love.

~1 Corinthians 13:13

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

 

Sharing delights. And sorrows, too.

 

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

 ~Pam Brown

For a few years, my sister and I shared the small room above.  It was painted a pale purple at the time.

It was in this room that I remember watching "The Wizard of Oz" on a tiny television during one of the many times I was sick with asthma, and I remember lying in bed struggling to go to sleep on a Christmas Eve because my brother and sister swore they heard jingle bells outside the window and I was afraid Santa would pass us by because I was still awake. 

Later my sons shared this room when we came to visit. A friend recently bought the twin beds my boys slept in for her own grandkids. My sister took the small table that sat between them and I brought my mom's cedar chest home with me. 

Now it's empty, except for that lamp.

Except... it's not empty. I still see our full size bed with its spread and matching shams of purple roses. I see our twin beds made into trundles, with a little play space under one, filled with my stuffed animals. I see my boys snuggled under their blankets in their twin beds, a lamp on and books open, reading into the night and sleeping late the next day. 

For the past few months, I've spent every Saturday at my parents' home, sorting through drawers and boxes and cabinets, trying to decide what to keep, what to toss, and what to sell. 

But I haven't been alone. Through it all, my big sister has been by my side, as she always has when I've gone through something tough, helping to make a job I dreaded turn into a mission of love. A catharsis. I couldn't have done all of this without her help and support. Because of her I'm able to see that the love that was borne in that house will never fail.  It's still there, but it's also in us. It's eternal. 

I'm so grateful for her and for the hours I've been able to spend with her this summer, one Saturday at a time. She is truly proof that God loves me. 

Today is her birthday. I hope it overflowed in blessings because she deserves to get back at least some of what she's given over the years.

Happy birthday, Brenda! I love you!

Please go here and here to read more about my beautiful sister. 

 

 

Baby girls, and other sweet!s

 

Baby girls

twirl into your life

a sweet pink rush

of kisses and hugs and giggles,

petticoats and tiaras,

soccer cleats and mudpies,

baby dolls and bicycles,

makeup and skinned knees,

spitfire and swallowed tears.

They're a wonder to behold, 

an ever-changing blessing.

    ~ me

 

 

Today my baby turned 24 years old. Does that still qualify as a baby?

(I'm not really asking. I know it does, when you're a mom. I'm 56 and still my mama's baby, even though I do most of the bossing and mothering these days.)

Tonight we celebrated with pizza, ice cream, chocolate cake, and lots of laughs. I wish I could share the photos, but I'm forbidden. 

On Monday TG's boyfriend starts Air Force bootcamp. Please keep him in your prayers. 

There have been lots of sweet! moments in the past few weeks... a wedding, the 4th of July and fireworks, lunches with friends, tiny morning glories beside the road, and baby deer toddling across the road ... but probably one of the sweetest things is I've been too busy with work and clients to share the others with you! That's an answer to my prayers.  

I truly do enjoy this job I resisted for so long, where I'm able to help people find homes, or be rid of properties so they can move on to a new dream. It's challenging, but that just adds to the sweetness of it. I have good intentions of getting back into the rhythm of blogging, but we'll see.

However, today was my baby's birthday, and I just had to share that sweet! with all of you!

 

 

New Beginnings

 "Every goodbye is a new beginning."

~ me (and probably a bunch of other people)

This afternoon I said goodbye to an old friend: my grandmother's piano. A friend from high school bought it for her granddaughter. She met me at my parents' home today and I helped her load it onto a trailer. 

(A neighbor, Jack, and Kevin, a stranger Shelia met down the street who drove a medical equipment delivery truck so Shelia offered him some money to help, also helped. We couldn't have done it without them, although Shelia is obviously very resourceful!)

 

 

I'm so relieved it will be played again. Loved again. I pray it continues making music for many years to come, and that another granddaughter loves it as much as I loved it. 

It's not the most beautiful piano in the world, obviously, but that piano was played by many fingers and loved by many hearts. What else matters?

In its honor, I'm re-posting something I wrote several years ago, when I first accepted this inevitable goodbye. I hope you enjoy it. It's a good reminder to me as I sort through my parents' home that memories are the true treasure.

 

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 lesson book.  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.

Silent Love and Friendship

 

I was headed to Houston last Saturday ... dreading the drive, the task ahead of me, and a whole day away from my business which I really can't afford at this time ... when I spotted a Panda Express.  I decided to cheer myself up with an early lunch. 

It was delicious, of course, but the best part was this message tucked into my fortune cookie...

 

 

Have you ever received a big hug from a friend just when you needed it? That's how I felt when I read that tiny little piece of paper.

Those words lifted me above the sadness of the task and helped me see it instead as a chance to revisit a lifetime of happy memories. The long drive, the physical labor, the sweat and tears all became acts of love,  a way to give back to my parents and grandmother and siblings and children... all of us who knew the abundance of love and laughter in that house. 

Words can be so powerful, can't they? 

These words will ride with me again tomorrow, and the next Saturday, and the next... however many it takes to sort through sixty years ... trying to decide what to keep, what to give, what to sell, and what to toss. 

I'm grateful for my sister who will be beside me in the process, adding more precious memories to tuck away in my heart as we prepare to say goodbye and thank you to the humble home that sheltered our childhood. 

 

A Sweet Backtrack through May and June... Part 1

 

Holy cow! A month has passed since my last post. How the heck did that happen?

It's been a month full of so many things... Mother's Day, a wedding, rain in Austin, and a trip to Florida to name a few... each worthy of their own blog post. But at this late date all they'll get is a brief mention, and maybe a photo or two. Sigh. 

 

"Some day man will travel at the speed of light, of small interest to those of us still trying to catch up to the speed of time."

~Robert Brault

 

 

First I'm very pleased to announce our "big" pond is full and overflowing for the first time in years, thanks to all of the May showers!

 

 And the sound of our little waterfall is music to our ears.

It's still hard for me to believe, but Lake Travis is almost full again! I love seeing its blue shimmer in the distance as I wind my way home through the hills. It's like those dried up coves were all a bad dream. 

As I've done in the past, I'll start with the most recent sweet! and move backwards, letting my photos jog my memory ... because that's much easier! So here we go...

 

The voice of Johnny Mathis, still smooth as a fine wine, enjoyed with friends at Austin's Long Center. Magical and timeless! (He looks the same - no photos allowed inside, but none needed!)

 

Celebrating the upcoming wedding of a girl you've watched grow up...the yummy food, mimosas, and silly games of bridal showers ... visiting with friends and girls who you would swear just yesterday were in elementary school.

Time is so tricky.

 

 Grandpuppy-sitting. Double the normal puppy fun!

 

 

A gorgeous day spent showing property in Marble Falls to a couple from Georgia, especially when you learn the woman is from your hometown and graduated from the same high school you did!

 

 

 

An afternoon photographing East 6th Street with a meet-up group...and meeting Patches, whose owner is thoughtful enough to provide her with booties to protect her paws from the hot pavement.

 

Hanging out with friends under the stars on a summer night, listening to live music provided by other talented friends. (Aegean)

 

 Being able to move your office outside on a beautiful day, with the sound of your little waterfall playing in the background.

 

 

American Beautyberry blossoms.

 

Hitting the antique/thrift shops in Florida with your sister-in-law, and indulging your vintage miniature Mexican chair addiction.

 

 

 

A few hours on a Florida beach with your camera and all of those colors.

 

Looking through priceless wedding photos of your mother- and father-in-law...and realizing you can make your own copies of them with your iPhone.

 

Exploring a section of the Blackwater River State Forest with your sisters-in-law and nieces on a rainy day.

 

That's where June began, so I'll call it a post and pick up at the end of May tomorrow. I've had so much fun sorting through my photos! If you've stuck it out to the end, thanks for tagging along!

 

You probably already know, but those heavy rains which were such a blessing to us also caused deadly flooding on the Blanco River in Wimberley, south of Austin. Please keep those families in your prayers!

Ch-ch-ch-changes... and other sweet!s

 

Did you notice my blog looks a little different? 

Apparently, my blogs weren't 'mobile-friendly', so to keep up with the times (and to keep BlogHer happy) I had to make some changes. 

Updating my Confessions blog (hosted by Blogger) was easy. Just one click, and it was done, somehow retaining my same old design, including the banner my friend Jill created for me years ago.

But this one? My original blog hosted by Typepad? Not so easy. I had to pick a whole new template. 

In the long run, it's a good thing, though. I've been wanting to change it up for quite a while, but I have a tendency to overthink everything and have a tough time making decisions. The key ingredients in procrastination. So I was actually grateful for the kick in the rear. 

It still took me a week to make the change. The past couple of weeks since my last post have been really busy. Fortunately, they were dotted with many sweet!s...

Last night I spent some time with the full moon, just standing on the path in front of our house, gazing at it and listening to the frogs singing down by the pond. That's the best kind of re-charging. 

My sister got my mom an iPhone. She can push a button and tell Siri to call someone. Plus, it's much easier for me to navigate than her old flip phone. Those things are so complicated!

 

 

My client-turned-friend Tammy's closing. She has become such an inspiration to me. Breast-cancer survivor, recent widow, always positive even through some bumps on the way to finding her new home. She showed me what faith looks like. 

 

The weeds in our front yard have turned into Indian Blankets and Mexican Hats, thank goodness!

 

Cedar Waxwings graced Long Hollow with their presence one day last week. I'm so glad I noticed them and had time to snap a few hundred photos of them while they were here. 

 

I spent an afternoon learning all about the history and brewing of beer, courtesy of my son Daniel, who invited me to tag along on the the tour he coordinated for his State Library co-workers, and Ryan, who I've known practically all his life. He is now a cellarman at Live Oak Brewing Company, the oldest microbrewery in Austin. (I'll write a whole post about it later.)

 

Someone gave me this little rose bush for my 50th or 51st birthday. I wish I could remember who it was. It's the toughest little thing I know, blooming every year after freezes and droughts, with no help whatsoever from me.

 

Our church's Garden of Eatin' once again offered encouragement, via the sign above, and culinary delight, via the homemade cannoli below. 

Once upon a time, I was active on FlickR, and that's how I met Debbie, another photography addict. We met in person in Houston several years ago and have stayed close via Facebook.

This weekend she came to Austin with friends for a winery tour, so on Saturday we met out at Flat Creek Estate. Not only did I get to spend a little time with her, but I satisfied my craving for a Flat Creek Margherita Pizza. Yum!

(P.S. People who say 'virtual friends aren't real friends' don't know what they're talking about.) 

 

My latest listing is situated on Slick Rock Golf Course in Horseshoe Bay. I snapped this photo while tagging along after Brent, a real estate photographer from  QuickPics Photography. Isn't this a gorgeous view? For photos of the actual house, check out the slideshow.

(No, I don't take my own real estate photographs. Timewise, it's cheaper to hire someone, freeing me to find buyers for my listings! And then more listings!)

 

I already knew I had passed all of the required classes, but it was still an awesome feeling getting this official certificate in the mail!

 

I hope you've been keeping track of your sweet moments, too. Share them in the comments! My phone has become a handy log for mine.

 

A good snapshot stops a moment from running away.

~Eudora Welty

 

 

 

 

 

Looking back from an Easter Sunday

 

Howdy! Have you missed me?

It's hard to believe it's been over two weeks since my last post. A lot has happened! But don't worry ... I'll just give you the sweet! highlights, not all the boring details.

First of all, it's Easter Sunday - Resurrection Sunday - for me, the source of all hope, a reminder of renewal and rebirth and begin-agains. 

 

 

My heart also felt light from the moment I opened my eyes because I knew all of my kids were here under the same roof as me and Tom.

Of course, it wasn't the same as Easter mornings years ago. I knew the Easter bunny hadn't paid our house a visit during the night. The colorful baskets were still tucked away in the storage room, covered with dust, not crowding the dining room table filled with candy and toys, and we had no colored egg hunt scheduled for after church. 

I did, however, make some mini-quiches for breakfast before heading off to Mass, and they were almost as big a hit as those baskets of the past.

Almost. 

After church, we enjoyed smoked turkey a la Tom. He woke up at 5 a.m. to start it cooking so it would be ready on time, bless his heart. And I still got him to smile for the camera!

 

 

Here are a few other sweet!s, in no particular order...

The bluebonnets have popped! Every year it's like they count to three and spring up all at once, blanketing roadsides and pastures. The yellows and purples and even some reds have joined them. It's a wildflower fiesta! 

 

 

Yesterday I met a cousin for lunch for a long-overdue catch-up session, then we both visited Mama. My cousin always brings her gifts... this time a beautiful bouquet of spring flowers and a box of gourmet chocolates. 

Last week ... or maybe it was the week before ...  I had dinner overlooking Lake Marble Falls with a friend, celebrating her birthday a little late and mine a little early...

...then we celebrated again a few nights later in an awesome Italian restaurant with two other friends. I love dragging my birthday celebration out over days, weeks, months... 

An agent friend brought me some beautiful handmade pillow covers back from India to thank me for helping her with a property while she was away helping her father. Aren't they gorgeous?

 

My brother-in-law paid us a surprise visit on his way home to Arizona from Arkansas, where he bought a three-wheeled motorcycle off of Craig's List. No photos, but it was wonderful to see him!

There have been a ton of new home events lately. At one I met Vince Young...

...and at another I test-drove a Tesla!

 

Last Saturday evening I was able to help friends celebrate their 20th anniversary by listening to the music of Shake Russell, Mike Roberts, and Michael Hearne, as the sun set on Lake Travis.

 

 

Earlier this week I finally reconnected with a high school friend who only lives a few miles away. She introduced me to a great Cajun restaurant right in our little town that I've passed every day for years. Two sweet!s in one!

Then there were the usual sweets, that are so easily taken for granted or overlooked ... morning walks with Belle when the sun first peeks into the hollow, the sight of a llama in a pasture along a highway, hawks singing and soaring over the hollow, the brilliant green of new leaves against a blue sky, the purple splashes of redbuds and mountain laurel and wisteria, and sunlight highlighting a spider web before you walk right into it...

 

 

On Easter Day the veil between time and eternity thins to gossamer. 

~Douglas Horton

I hope all of you have been paying attention to the sweet! moments in your life, the big and the small. Happy Easter, Happy Passover, Happy Sunday!

 

 

A sweet!-speckled day and SxSW...almost

 

 

Now, as a REALTOR®, this t-shirt from the Etsy shop SpikeStuff goes against everything I stand for. I want people to move here! And I want them to let me help them find a home! Austin is an awesome place to live and there's still plenty of room for everyone!

But tonight, as an Austinite, I let the logistics of traffic and parking overcome the excitement of going to a private SxSW party downtown in the Google Fiber Space. 

Yes, the dread of traffic and the challenge of finding a parking spot was more powerful than the allure of free food and alcohol, and the (very) slight possibility of catching a glimpse of a celebrity. 

Because at this time of year, Austin is not just full... it's overflowing! Thousands flock downtown for SxSW, and the Austin Rodeo draws a huge crowd, too.

And there really are celebrity sightings. Phil Collins visited the State Library and Archives last week, where my son works. 

I had actually been looking forward to the event tonight, very excited that I had won a spot. I would have gone despite the traffic and parking challenges, but I was busy working on an offer for a precious young couple trying to buy their first home and just lost track of the time.

When I finally looked at the clock, I realized I would barely get to the party before it would be time to leave.

So... I decided to write a blog post instead, and tell you about some sweet!s I gathered today...

...As soon as the sun rose enough to light my path, Belle and I headed out for our morning walk. (She's ready to go when it's still dark, but I draw the line at walking by flashlight, as much as possible!) It was cool, but not cold, and gray clouds were peeling away to reveal a clear blue sky and a crescent moon slow to say goodbye. 

We followed our normal path, jogging down the caliche road, then making a large loop through a neighbor-who-doesn't-live-here-yet's property. His pond actually has water in it, now, and as we followed the trail close to it, we heard a loud ruckus on the other side. Belle barked and dashed forward. I arrived in time to see the tails of three deer disappear into the woods.

Life is returning to the hollow, along with the water.

Here's a photo of our pond. Not full, but more full than it's been in awhile!

 

...Mama was still lying down when I arrived for my visit this afternoon, but the aides soon had her up in her wheelchair. I fetched hot water from the kitchen for her afternoon cup of Cafe Vienna (General Foods International Coffee - her addiction for twenty-plus years) while she had her nebulizer treatment. Once the mask was removed, I brushed her hair as she sipped her coffee.

It's longer than I ever remember it. She has no interest in going to the beauty parlor there in the nursing home and getting it cut. The beautician did a fantastic job last time, but that was months ago. Now her silver-white waves flow below her ears.

I enjoy smoothing the bed-head tangles away, chatting as I move the brush. Mostly I enjoy touching her, doing something for her. Being with her. 

 

...Our caliche road runs down a small hill, then curves around its base, paralleling the creek that gives the hollow its name. This afternoon I had rounded the curve at the bottom and was approaching our house when I spotted something that gave me flashbacks to my beloved Frankie: a huge wild turkey was crossing the road just beyond our house. He wasn't in a big hurry, but moved in a steady path, disappearing before I even turned in to park. 

I thought about trying to track him down and maybe snap a photo with my phone, but decided instead, to let him be, and just be grateful for the sight of him. Maybe he'll stay.

And adopt us. And eat birdseed on our windowsill. And come inside to inspect my bookshelves. And go on morning walks with me and Belle.

(Yeah, I know I'm dreaming. There was only one Frankie bird.)

 

 

I hope your Monday was speckled with sweet!s, too! If it wasn't (or even if it was!) here's a wish for you in honor of St. Patrick's Day tomorrow...

A sunbeam to warm you,
A moonbeam to charm you,
A sheltering angel, so nothing can harm you.
~Irish Blessing

 

 

Treasure Boxes and other sweet!s...

 

I drove Tom's truck to Houston on Saturday. The kids and I made a one-day trip there to continue sorting through things at my parents' house, my childhood home, where every square inch and every random object holds a special memory. 

What to keep and what to sell from a lifetime of memories, when you're already weeding and tossing at your own home because you have no room? I wasn't looking forward to it.

But my kids provided the perfect balance of reminiscing, mourning, laughing, and staying on task to get the job done and be back on the road before the sun set.

My main goal for this trip, and the ulterior motive in having the kids there, was to retrieve the big items I wasn't ready to sell. But I also wanted to give the kids a chance to say goodbye to a house where they had spent much of their childhood, just as I did.

I was fortunate that my parents watched Tommy and Daniel after they were born when I had to return to work. When TG was born, I quit work, and just a few years later we moved to Austin, but each Christmas vacation, spring break, and a week every summer found us at my parents' home. 

My own memories are in layers; you have to peel away quite a few to understand why I brought back the items I did.

 

 

 

My mother's cedar chest. It's dry and cracking in places, but still aromatic and beautiful. I often pleaded with my mother to open it and let me look (again!) at the items she kept inside. 

 

 

The cabinet sewing machine. It's an old Domestic that swings up when you open the cabinet. My mother and grandmother worked magic with this machine, that I could never duplicate. Clown and ballerina costumes, school clothes, my sister's wedding dress and my homecoming queen dress, along with so much more. 

(However, I did sew on it. It's the only machine I've ever felt comfortable with, sewing many a Barbie doll and Liddle Kiddle outfit, plus patching up and/or decorating my jeans because the needle had no problem going through denim.)

 

 

The console stereo that stood front and center in our living room for decades even after the stereo quit working. From it I first heard Bill Cosby telling his jokes, sang along with the Beach Boys, and listened to the Mary Poppins soundtrack for hours when I could do nothing else because of my asthma. 

How could I leave it behind? It now sits in a special place in my office, and I can't wait to listen to those albums again. There's a portable stereo sitting where the original used to be. If I can only figure out how to hook it up to the speakers...

 

 

My brother Buster's footlocker. Truthfully, it holds no memories for me, but it's priceless, nonetheless. In it you'll find his Vietnam-era medals and other things which were important to him, and therefore to me and my mom. It had to come along as well. 

I had no idea where I would put these treasure boxes in my home, which I've already mentioned feels overcrowded with my own stuff.

But I decided not to worry about that. I had the boys load them all up, along with an old suitcase we found filled with some of my Daddy's papers, an old bridle, my grandmother's sewing basket, a portrait of my parents' dog Little Bull painted by my Aunt Bertha Lee ...

Anyway, despite my worrying, I've already found places for them in spots that now seem were made for them. It alway seems to work out, when you follow your heart, doesn't it?

Here are a few other sweet!s from the past week...

 

 

 

Monday: pink skies; taking a little extra time on your morning walk to snap photos; being a help to your mom

Tuesday: no traffic on your way downtown; catching up with friends at an office meeting; an afternoon at home to work; baby daddy-long-legs

 

Wednesday: a quick lunch with your daughter;  jewelry parties and new leads; your husband finding new tires for your car, cheap, on Craig's List

Thursday: a cardinal singing to you on your morning walk; the way your mom's eyes light up at the sight of you; networking with your son and some of his friends at the Buzz Mill on a gorgeous night; vodka fused with mango and Blue Ox barbecue 

 

 

Friday: connecting with a creative friend focused on helping your business; making your mom laugh; colorful old houses

 

 

Saturday: frogs singing to you on your morning walk; photography challenges; discovering a bird's nest hidden beside a path you walk every morning

 

 

Sunday: "watching" the Super Bowl with lots of fun people; Franklin's barbecue, without having to stand in line

 

 

Monday: a motivational reminder appearing in your mailbox, just when you need it; fellow agents brainstorming options for a friend who is about to be evicted

 

 

Tuesday: showing properties; a splash of color on a rainy day; being asked to help a friend's parents move to Austin; your son calling you outside so you don't miss the full moon surrounded by clouds

Wednesday: an early morning phone chat with your cousin; foggy mornings; meeting your mom's new roommate's daughter and granddaughter

 

 

Thursday: winning a Starbucks gift card and collecting free pens and koozies and a Realtor event; finding those special Red Velvet Oreos; helping to thank a valued coach and wishing him well on his new adventure

Friday: coffee and catching up with a past client; long overdue phone visits with your mother-in-law and sister-in-law

 

 

Saturday: your kids lessening your load with laughter and support as you begin to clear out your childhood home; your son volunteering to check out the attic for you; a visit and hugs from your sister and a dear friend; a sunset from Hruska's parking lot

 

 

Sunday: chatting with a friend over chocolate pancakes at the Garden of Eatin' after church; Sunday inspiration; cherished relics of your childhood home settled in your grown-up home; your husband taking care of the awful noise your car was making

Monday: your mom being close enough to stop by and reassure her when she's having a bad day; meeting another Realtor in the grocery store and stopping to talk shop for half an hour

 

I'm way overdue with posting my sweet!s, but I'm managing to look for them each day, and that's really what matters, isn't it? I hope you are, too. 

"Gratitude is the memory of the heart."

~Jean Baptiste Massieu, translated from French

My son, at not quite 30...

 

He doesn't take himself too seriously.

For instance, this is his latest post on Facebook...

"I jogged through the seven levels of the Candy Cane forest, through the sea of swirly twirly gum drops, and then I walked through the Lincoln Tunnel... To Bangers for a beer."

 

It makes me so happy to know he's secure enough, and fun-loving enough, to dress as an elf and run through the streets of Austin on an Elf Pub Run. Also, that he can quote Will Ferrell in "Elf".

Of course I'm also proud that he's an awesome insurance agent who was smart enough to fall in love with that gorgeous redhead beside him.

 

He volunteers to host Thanksgiving for 20 people.

Including roasting the turkey. Yum.

 

 

He doesn't let things shake him up.

After an 8 hour drive, which included hitting a huge deer on a dark highway 30 minutes outside of Lubbock, and then only 4 hours of sleep, he ran 14 miles in freezing weather with his wife because it was important to her to keep up with her marathon training. 

Plus , it was her birthday weekend.

"Ninja training: 8 hour road trip, 4 hours sleep, 14 mile run. Now endurance tailgating with Tx Tech girls."

 

Can I brag some more? He's an Eagle Scout, he visits his grandmother regularly, runs marathons despite having struggled with asthma all through his childhood, has the before-mentioned successful insurance business...

 

All in all, he lives life to the fullest.

 

 

 

But it's still hard to believe it's been 29 years since this...

 

 

Who knew then that he would be my hero? 

Yes, I'm a proud, extremely grateful mom.

Happy 29th birthday to my Sunshine Boy. 

 

You don't raise heroes, you raise sons.  And if you treat them like sons, they'll turn out to be heroes, even if it's just in your own eyes.  ~Walter M. Schirra, Sr.

 

Reflections on Gratitude, and "Lasts" (and Happy Thanksgiving to you!)

 

There's a small pond tucked into the bottom of a hill down the road from our house. It can be counted on to hold water when the others have all dried up, deep enough that our Max puppy could really swim in it sometimes, not just wade. He loved it.  

 

One morning on our walk a few weeks before he left us, Max started up the trail that leads to the pond. I was nervous, because the sides of the pond are so steep and deep, and his legs were so weak, I knew if he went in, he'd never make it out by himself. 

But after just a few steps in the direction of the pond, he stopped and looked back at me, as if he was thinking the same thing. 

"Let's just go back to our pond, Max," I told him. "You can swim there."

He must have agreed, because he immediately turned around and headed back down the road to our house.

I visited that little pond yesterday morning for the first time since Max's last swim. I thought about him and all of the mornings Belle and I stood on the trail above the pond and waited for him while he soaked and swam.

I wondered if the last time he swam there, he knew it might be his last. (I know I didn't. He kept surprising me.)

Whether he realized it or not, I bet he cherished every minute of it, and gave thanks in whatever way dogs do that it was there. 

We rarely know when we're experiencing the "last" of something ... the last conversation or hug or kiss. The last walk with a beloved old puppy dog. Or the last Thanksgiving with a loved one.

All too often, we take it for granted there will be a "next time".  We're human, after all, and life moves fast. 

Last year we traveled to Houston to celebrate Thanksgiving a day late with my mom.  I knew it would be the last time we celebrated in my childhood home, and that knowledge weighed on me every minute.

It was also the first Thanksgiving without Daddy. I was grateful for the chance to be there for Mama, but it was definitely a bittersweet celebration. In fact, I completely forgot about it until my sister reminded me yesterday. 

I'd rather remember all the Thanksgivings there that came before it.

 

 

 

Today I'll be celebrating with my son, my daughter-in-law, and her extended family, just as we did last year. It might be a new tradition. It might not.

 

But it will be the "last" in some way, that's guaranteed, although I don't want to think about it like that. I just want to slow down and savor, to imprint the people I'm with and the moments of the day into my memory, and give thanks for them and all of the many blessings in my life...

...which includes you. I'm so grateful for you, and wish you a blessed Thanksgiving!

 

 

 

The Power of a Wheat Penny

Like my Daddy, and his daddy before him, I have a coin collection. My coins aren't categorized into small blue books like theirs, though. Mine -all wheat pennies - jingle around in an old bourbon bottle.

 

This doesn't look like much of a collection after fifty years, does it?

 

I'm not sure when or why I became enamored of wheat pennies. Maybe because they stopped being minted the year before I was born. Maybe because, as far as old coins go, they weren't that rare when I started.

 

Whatever the reason, I'm sure it was Daddy who introduced me to them and contributed the majority of them to my collection. Daddy had an eye for coins. He gave me every wheat penny he found, and his excitement at finding one in his change was contagious. I scoured every penny I came across for years, searching for those two stalks of wheat.

 

For some reason, whether lack of time (kids? life?) or lack of luck finding them, I stopped. 

But earlier this week, on a day when my heart was feeling pretty heavy and wheat pennies were the last thing on my mind, I was reaching for my computer bag on the backseat when I spotted one resting alone, wheat-side up, smack dab in the middle of the rear floorboard hump of my car.

I think somehow Daddy put it there for me, encouraging me to hang in there, reminding me that he always believed in me, and always will. 

Thank you, Daddy.

 

 

 

Here are a few other sweet!s from the past week...

 

Monday: finding out your kids survived their road trip, despite hitting a deer and encountering icy conditions; the knowledge that you did your best, even if things don't work out as well as you hoped; finding a wheat penny and feeling your daddy nearby

Tuesday: your mom agreeing to get out of bed, at least for a little while; meeting a new client in person; not having an accident in terrible stop-and-go traffic; a fun photo shoot with photogenic siblings

Wednesday: puppy kisses; continually learning; being able to offer support when loved ones lose their daddies

 

Thursday: free food and drinks, music, and a chance to catch up up with a sweet friend while touring beautiful new subdivisions; sunsets in the hill country; a Google City Expert event downtown with your son and daughter-in-law, where you get to sample some of the food, drink, and fun several Austin businesses have to offer

 

 

Friday: a Thanksgiving pot-luck gathering with your colleagues and time to visit with friends; clients ready to make an offer; still being able to talk to your mom about things weighing on your heart

Saturday: rain, rain, and more rain, but none of the dangerous thunderstorms that were predicted; watching yet another Wes Anderson movie with your son

Sunday: waking to sunshine and clear blue skies; the trickle of a little waterfall; a cousin who visits your mom and brings her gifts; a sliver moon floating on a sunset

 

 

Monday: watching the sun set treetops ablaze with golden morning light; forgiving yourself for not finishing your blog post on Sunday, as you intended; crossing a huge, dusty to-do off of your list

What was the sweetest moment of your past week? I hope this next one overflows with them for you.

Sometimes the poorest man leaves his children the richest inheritance.

~Ruth E. Renkel

Don't worry. I got this.

"Lord, if your people need me, I will not refuse the work. Your will be done."

~St. Martin of Tours

 

 

My big brother Buster was headed to Viet Nam, saying his goodbyes, when I stood beside him in this photograph and smiled. I had no idea what was ahead of him. This was probably taken before his first tour of duty and so he had only a vague idea himself what to expect.

When he volunteered for his second tour, however, he knew full well what he was stepping into...but he did it anyway. 

 

 

My dad was in high school when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. He joined the Navy soon after high school graduation because his country was at war and "it was the thing to do." 

In the next twenty-two months he traveled a long way from Texas aboard the U.S.S. Geneva...to places like the Philippines, the Marshall Islands, China, Burma, Japan.

Before he turned twenty, he had seen cities that had been destroyed by war and piles of dead bodies waiting to be buried. 

A few years later, his little brother Bobby followed his lead and joined the Navy, and many years later, so did my brother Donnie and two nephews.

 

Pop, my wonderful father-in-law, missed out on World War II, but joined the Air Force in time for the Korean War. He worked base supply in Okinawa, supporting bombers flying missions to Korea...about 100 aircraft every day.

He re-enlisted, got married, and hopped around the globe...living in England, Germany, and over a year in Pakistan, separated from his family (the other heroes - Mom had 8 teenage and younger boys to deal with by herself!)...visiting a dozen other countries...eventually staying put for awhile in Maryland, working with NSA (and a second job at the bowling alley to make ends meet), until his retirement.

A lifetime of service and sacrifice for this country.

 

 

My husband Tom was raised in that military family. For him it was normal to move every few years to someplace completely different...by the time he was eight or nine years old, he had lived in three countries!

He grew up on a tight budget ... hand-me-downs, powdered milk and only two cookies a day...period! And yet as soon as he could, he joined the service...the Coast Guard. Among other things, he helped rescue fisherman off the coast of Alaska.

Four of his brothers also joined the service (three career Air Force, just like their dad, and another Coast Guard) and the youngest joined the Army Reserves. Now the next generation is following in their footsteps: two Air Force and one Coast Guard.

I think it's very fitting that Veterans Day shares November with Thanksgiving, a day when we slow down to remember and be grateful for things that we usually take for granted, because veterans, despite the sacrifices they make for all of us, probably don't even make it onto our Thanksgiving thank-you list.

That's how much most of us take them for granted - as well as the freedoms they protect for us. Even when our country isn't at war, they go where they are needed to unfamiliar places, away from extended family, often living on a minimum salary.

To many, they are a symbol of war, not peace, and sadly become targets of derision, scorn, blame... and even violence, like the sad incident at Ft. Hood a few years ago.

They deserve to be thanked every day of the year. A friend of mine says that when he's in a restaurant and sees a man or woman in uniform, he secretly pays their bill. What a wonderful idea! I think more of us should go out of our way every day to show our appreciation, but I'm glad there is at least one special day where we shine a spotlight on them, remember their sacrifices and make clear our gratitude.

Thank you Daddy, Tom, Pop, Buster, Donnie, Uncle Bobby, Uncle Howard, Kenny, Steve, Joe, Robbie, John, Sheila, Michael, Tom, Lynn, Robbin, Evan...and all of the other Veterans, past and present, out there! Because of you, we're free to go about our daily lives, without a thought in the world to how much that freedom costs or how much you've given.

But let's hope we do remember the price, as well as those who, through their actions, say "Don't worry. I got this."

(If this sounds familiar, it's a re-post from last year and the year before and the year before, with just a few tweeks. With the passing of Daddy, my Uncle Bobby, and Pop in recent years, and my brother Buster years ago, this day feels especially poignant. I don't want their service to be forgotten.)

 

 

Party Girl

 

This evening my family commandeered the sunroom where my mom lives to celebrate her 83rd birthday a few days early. It was the only day we could all be together, but besides that, when you're turning 83, you really should start celebrating early, don't you think?

 

 

I know Mama loves being with all of my kids, but I also know that if her birthday wish had come true, we would have been sharing fajitas, chocolate cake, and stories around our old kitchen table in our house in Deepwater, and Daddy would have been there with us, too... in body, not just in spirit.  

When you live long enough, there's often bitter mixed with the sweet.

But I think it's important to focus on the sweet, which for me was having my husband, my mom, every one of my kids, and even my grandpuppy Josie all together this evening. That doesn't happen often enough these days.

Here are some other sweet!s from the past week...

 

 

Monday: morning skies; working out for the first time in a week; the arrival of your new boots in the mail

Tuesday: catching up with a friend while on a property tour through the Texas hill country; the tug on your heart when you see the final resting spot of some beloved pets nestled under a tree; the freedom to vote, and standing in a line to exercise that right

 

 

Wednesday: walking in the rain with your puppy, the sound of raindrops on your umbrella your soundtrack; new clients; winning a gift card to Panera Bread

Thursday: customer service people who truly care about customer service; a husband who knows how to find great deals on Craig's List... in particular treadmills and ellipticals so you don't have to run on your caliche road

 

 

Friday: the return of sunshine to your Hollow; trees dressed in their autumn colors; finishing something you've wanted to do all week; not having to wear huge bandaids on your elbows anymore

 

 

Saturday: discovering a living jewel crawling on your road; baby showers; watching a movie with your mom; an overdue get-together with friends

 

Sunday: a walk through the woods with your puppy before Mass; talking real estate with Realtor friends; celebrating your mom's birthday early with all of your kids and your grandpuppy

 

 

 Hundreds of dewdrops to greet the dawn,
Hundreds of bees in the purple clover,
Hundreds of butterflies on the lawn,
But only one mother the wide world over.
~George Cooper

 

  

What were the sweet moments of your past week? Please share them in the comments. I hope you have twice as many in the coming week!

Sweets and Sorrows

 

 

Each morning since my old puppy Max passed away, Belle and I have ended our walk in the little cemetery where he, Charly, Chewy, Ruthie, and Frankie are all buried. It may seem like a bittersweet way to start the day, but I believe it has helped me, and maybe Belle, transition to life without him.

The cross above is actually the one marking Charly's grave. I need to find another one like it for Max.

I started the week determined to keep track of my sweet!s again. Although by Tuesday, I knew my heart was soon going to break, I was determined to keep making note of at least one sweet a day.

On the darkest days, it helps to remember the sun is still shining somewhere, right?

 

 

Monday - an executed contract on one of your listings and finding a home for a family relocating from Illinois 

Tuesday - your husband's plumbing and construction skills

Wednesday - your daughter calling you as she's driving to school to tell you to go see the blood moon; your friends praying for your sweet old puppy

Thursday - being able to spend your puppy's last hours beside him, petting him and telling him you love him; a vet who will travel to your home so your puppy can transition in his own home, surrounded by his family

Friday - seeing old friends while passing out flyers to your church's Oktoberfest; crossing heavy items off of your to-do list

Saturday - sleeping late to the sound of rain outside your window; finally cleaning up piles of paperwork in your office

Sunday - hearing rain outside your window two mornings in a row; submitting an offer for a client; seeing a friend's grandbaby for the first time; Blue Bell's Spiced Pumpkin Pecan ice cream; your husband's safe arrival at his mom's for a visit

 

 

I hope no matter what troubles or heartbreak you're experiencing, you're able to see the rays of sweet light shining in your darkness.

Good boy, Max.

 

"Dogs’ lives are too short. Their only fault, really."

~ Agnes Sligh Turnbull

 

 

He wandered up to our house from the woods almost 11 years ago, a not-so-small puppy with crooked ears and a face so black you could barely see his eyes. We never found out where he came from, but within days, we didn't care. We knew he belonged with us.

 

His timing was just right; he brought Charly-dog back to life after the death of his brother, Chewy, and distracted me as my eldest prepared to head off to college.

 

 

Max was an angel, straight from heaven. I truly believe that.

 

 

But I guess angels can't live forever on earth, at least not when they take on mortal bodies. Max's finally wore out, and his beautiful spirit took flight yesterday as we whispered See-you-later and Thank-you and I-love-you-Max.

I spent the last few hours of his life beside him in the laundry room, working on my laptop, reading, and at times just sitting silently on the floor, watching him, petting him, remembering...

He would have tried to hang on, no telling how long - his devotion was so strong. But any doubts about our decision were squelched with one glance at him. He was nothing but fur and bones. He wouldn't eat and could no longer stand, much less walk.

He went downhill fast and I knew there wouldn't be another rally.

I'm grateful to our wonderful veterinarian and her assistant who braved the rough road to our house to ease my sweet Max into the next world, where I'm certain Charly welcomed him and he's no longer limited by that old, lame, beloved body, but able to run and pounce and play like he used to. 

 

 

When my legs grew too weak to carry me, And my tired eyes could no longer see,

When it pained me to struggle for each new breath,

When my heart beat weaker, and I drew closer to death,

You did me the kindness of letting me go.

You didn't make me hang on when I was suffering so.

I promise I don't think that you loved me any less,

And I love you all the more for your selflessness.

You freed my spirit from its body so wracked with pain,

And let me run the fields of Heaven, where I'm sure we'll meet again.

 

 

 

…Grieve not,

 

   nor speak of me with tears,

 

but laugh and talk of me

 

   as if I were beside you…

 

I loved you so –

 

   ‘twas Heaven here with you.

 

 

 

                                        Isla Paschal Richardson

 

 

 

 

"You think dogs will not be in heaven?

I tell you, they will be there long before any of us."

~ Robert Louis Stevenson

 

 

 

 

“It came to me that every time I lose a dog they take a piece of my heart with them.  And every new dog that comes into my life gifts me with a piece of their heart.  If I live long enough, all the components of my heart will be a dog, and I will become as generous and loving as they.”

 

~Anonymous 

  

Sunday afternoons and belated sweets

 

Just before sunset this afternoon, I escaped to the front porch swing with a glass of wine and a long-lost book from my childhood. I'd spent the day taking care of the dogs, going to church, fixing one of my signs that got knocked over by city mowers, visitng my mom, and finally making it to the grocery store.

I was pooped.

It was an overdue appointment with myself, the book, and Belle, who joined me on the porch and dozed on her bed while I read.

This whole past week has been exhausting, although not necessarily in a bad way. One of my listings had multiple offers, and while I hate telling anyone they lost, it's the best scenario you can wish for for your seller.

I've also been busy trying to snag a lease for out-of-state buyers who are moving to Austin next week. They want to get a feel for Austin before buying. I don't blame them, but I think they finally believe what I told them about leasing being tougher than buying in some ways.

And then there are searches for other buyers, promotions for other sellers, and the neverending need to get more clients in your pipeline. 

It felt good to slip away from all of that for half an hour this afternoon...

 

 

I searched for this book for 40 years, before finally coming across it last year in an online bookstore, priced far beyond my budget. My son Daniel - more of a booklover than me, if that's possible - came to the rescue and bought it for me as an early Christmas present.

When it arrived in the mail, it was like seeing an old friend for the first time in so many years... but I was so busy at the time that it sat untouched on my bookshelf until last week, when I decided I'd had enough of just reading real estate books and magazines. I was ready for an escape, the kind only a work of fiction can provide.

And what better escape when you're pressed on all sides with grownup problems, than to dive back into your childhood?

 

 

These small iris-shaped flowers line our dirt road again. They never appeared last autumn, I guess because of the drought, so what a sweet surprise to spot them popping up this year.

 

 

After a brief rally, Max has gotten picky about eating again, changing his preferences from one day to another and turning his nose up at whatever we're offering more than actually eating. 

Consequently, he's gotten weak again, and has skipped the past two morning walks, although he still climbs the hill from his doghouse to lounge in his porch bed, and he seems very happy there, occasionally barking to prove he's got our backs.

So Belle and I have gone on without him. She's in such a hurry to cover a lot of ground but get back to check on him that I've ended up having to run to keep up. It's been good for both of us.

 

 

Thursday evening's forecast included a line of thunderstorms passing through, thanks to a cold front. 

Somehow it passed by us without so much as a drop, but then stalled for a few hours so that we had the most amazing lightshow on our horizon, like a strobe light caught inside of a huge cloud.

Daniel and I stood in the middle of our road watching it for at least half an hour, totally mesmerized. There was no thunder, no rain. It was one of the weirdest, most beautiful things I've ever witnessed.

I took several shots without much hope that I could actually capture it. I'm pleasantly surprised they came out as good as they did, although none of them truly did it justice. 

Earlier that evening I had joined a bunch of other Austin Realtors for a networking party at The Thinkery, a new children's museum. We're members of Broker Underground ... essentially a Facebook group where we can promote our listings, find properties for our buyers, share information about vendors, and keep up to date with what's happening in Austin real estate. 

While it's true in a way that agents are competing against each other, it's also true that we have to work together to help our clients and help continually improve our industry. Events like this, where we come face-to-face in a relaxed environment, help us connect... plus they're just a lot of fun and a great way to relieve stress.

 

 

Last Sunday I was lucky enough to sit on the front row at a house concert and listen to the music of Shake Russell, Michael Hearne, and Mike Roberts.

I can't tell you how many times I've heard some of those songs over the past four decades, but they still go straight to my heart and soul. 

 

I've missed keeping an official record of my weekly sweet! moments. I plan to start it back up and invite you to do the same, because...

The happiness of life is made up of minute fractions - the little, soon-forgotten charities of a kiss or a smile, a kind look, a heartfelt compliment, and the countless infinitesimals of pleasurable and genial feeling.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Reality (or "Why I need you to sign this contract and show me your ID")

 

 

I worked in a chemical plant for thirteen years, where all kinds of explosive and flammable materials swam through the pipes surrounding us. Propylene, hydrogen, syngas, and methanol, to name a few.

For the first decade it was a DuPont plant, where safety and proper procedures were taken very seriously and drilled into us daily. We still had a few explosions and fires, and unfortunately, two fatalities, although they weren't DuPont people and they didn't die in an explosion, but during a shutdown. They didn't follow the rules about using plant air for breathing air. (It's backed up by nitrogen.) 

I quit that job on my first day back following the birth of my third baby. I had planned to wait a few more months, but I had a nagging fear about being killed in an explosion and leaving my children motherless.

An extreme thought, perhaps, but it wasn't that farfetched.

Fast forward twenty-three years...

I'm happy to report there haven't been any more fatalities at my old plant and I'm now a Realtor.

 

...and this past week a Realtor in Arkansas, Beverly Carter, disappeared while showing property to someone.

It hit me that my job as a real estate agent is quite possibly much more dangerous than my job as a chemical plant technician, despite the nicer clothes and smiles. 

It just doesn't seem possible, does it? But think about it. All the hours I spend on the road probably put me in more danger than walking in that pipe alley years ago.

And then consider the open houses, where you're in a house with strangers milling about (if you survive putting up the signs on busy corners)... listing appointments with complete strangers you often meet for the first time in their homes... showing property to strangers, either meeting them at vacant homes or driving them around in your car.  

Granted, Beverly was probably one of about a million agents around the world doing the exact same thing she was at that very moment, and most likely they finished up and joined their families for dinner.

From what I hear, she was an experienced agent and had taken some safety precautions before showing this home. Not enough, it seems, although I'm not blaming her at all. 

There's been a lot of discussion and sharing of safety tips and ideas in Facebook real estate groups this past week. I already practiced quite a few of them, thanks to my Keller Williams Realty training, but I've gotten a lot of ideas.

One agent snaps photos of the ID's of every visitor to her open houses and texts them to her office. Another has video cameras placed throughout the open house. 

When showing property, I already insisted on having a signed Buyer/Tenant Agreement. I figure if someone refuses to sign, they aren't serious about buying... and are thus a waste of my time.

Recently I also made it standard procedure to copy my client's driver's license and email my itinerary to Tom and the kids. 

But through the discussion, I found many more tips, not the least of which involve basicly arming myself with different products and weapons. 

It's not fun to think about, when your main objective is to help people, either to find a home or sell a home, so they can move on to the next adventure in their lives.

But no matter how much I enjoy meeting new people and helping them, I can't forget my first duty is to my family. I owe it to them to play it safe. As my cousin said, there are too many crazies out there.

I need to remember my DuPont days and be sure I follow the safety rules and procedures. I need to be aware of my surroundings at all times and never assume anything. Sometimes the greatest danger lies in complacency.

Please keep Beverly Carter in your prayers, that despite the odds, she is found safe and well, very soon. 

 

And also, please don't give your agent a hard time if they ask you to sign a contract or send them a copy of your photo ID. Cut them some slack. It's not personal; they're just trying to be safe in a dangerous world. Thank you.

 

(I just heard on GMA that Beverly's body has been found. It's not the result that was hoped for, but I pray it brings some relief to her family.)

The Story of Us

 

Tom asked me to dance for the very first time 33 years ago tonight. 

I was at Kenny Stabler's Diamondback Saloon in Houston on a rare Friday night off, in a bad mood because my boyfriend of five years "had other plans" that night.

That wasn't unusual - he wasn't a very good boyfriend. But to top it off, none of my friends I expected to see were there that night, either.

I felt very alone.

I guess that's how it is with miracles, though. When you least expect it, when you feel like nothing is going right, one pops up out of the blue, or, in this case, a blue-eyed miracle steps up and asks you to dance.

This is what happened that night. At least, this is my version...

 

A Michael Jackson song was playing. I can't remember which one, but it was one I didn't care for and wouldn't normally dance to, even in a good mood.

I saw the guy coming toward me and had the "no" ready on my lips, but to my surprise, I said "yes" when he asked me to dance.  I had no choice then, but to follow him onto the dance floor and wait for the song to end so I could go back to my spot at the railing and brood some more.

But when the song ended, a country-western tune started right up and he asked me to dance again. I hesitated - we had conversed enough for me to know he talked funny, which meant he was probably a Yankee and wouldn't know how to two-step.

And I hated teaching guys how to two-step.

However, he didn't wait for my answer. He just took me in his arms and started dancing. Two-stepping, no less!

While we danced, we talked. I learned his name, that he was from Maryland, and he was twenty-four even though he looked about eighteen.

By the time the song was over, I had agreed to sit at his table.

He was with an interesting mix of people...  a friend's Welsh wife (the friend was a Pasadena cop who was working nights), her New York friends, and Chris, a redhead from Maryland who preferred punk rock to country-western music.

When it was time to leave, Tom walked me outside, asked what I was doing the next night (going to Gilley's to see Alabama perform) and could he meet me there?

Sure. (Why not? My boyfriend had already told me he didn't want to go.) Then, with a peck of a kiss, Tom walked away to join his friends, leaving me to wonder what the heck had just happened.

I told my boyfriend I was meeting someone at Gilley's. He didn't care - he wasn't worried. We had a pretty loose relationship by then, you can tell.

I was worried, though... that I wouldn't recognize Tom. I couldn't remember what he looked like!

That night I stood at the bar where I could see customers streaming in the door to pay. Wait... was that him?

"Tom," I called, testing. He glanced in the direction of my voice. I smiled and waved. He smiled and made his way to me. Whew!

Now, I don't know if I believe in "love at first sight," or if there's such a thing as "someone for everyone," soul mates destined to meet and live happily ever after. But I do know that something changed in me that night at Gilley's.

Tom and I talked, laughed, and danced. Later, he walked me to my car, and we really kissed. He asked for my phone number and I gave it to him.

I didn't know at the time if this was something that would last forever, but I knew I wanted to see him again and spend more time with him. I knew I would be telling my boyfriend good-bye, no matter what happened between me and Tom.

But I didn't dwell on it, just started taking things a day at a time. The next two weeks were a blur of emotions and fun and firsts...

• Our first movie -  Continental Divide with John Belushi.
• Our first rock concert - Pat Benatar.
• Our first trip to the Renaissance Festival. 
• Our first dinner out - Mario's Pizza on the seawall in Galveston, followed by stargazing on the beach in a sleeping bag. He brought stemmed glasses and wine in an ice chest. And he gave me his dog-tags, which in my pre-Tom life I would have considered a corny gesture from anyone else. But it put butterflies in my stomach and melted my heart that night.

After working the night shift that week, I would find cute cards resting on my doorstep that said he missed me. Was this guy for real?

I dragged him to meet my friends and family, to get their opinion. Maybe there was something I wasn't seeing. But they all liked him. I liked his friends. They liked me.

Where was the glitch? I couldn't find one.

It was an emotional happy high with an undercurrent of deep sadness. Admittedly, my now ex-boyfriend had been a pretty bad boyfriend most of the time, but I loved him. We just weren't good for each other. I hadn't thought I could fall for anyone else until I met Tom.

As jealous as he'd always been, I guess my ex thought I would never fall for anyone else, either, and it hit him hard. One morning soon after meeting Tom, sound asleep after working the night shift, a banging on my door woke me up.

It was my ex. He went straight into my kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife. Before I had time to be scared, he marched across the living room to a small Norfolk pine he had given me. Jerking it out of its planter, scattering dirt all over the carpet, he lifted the knife and began hacking away at the trunk, telling me the tree was a symbol of our love. 

(To his credit, a few months later he called and apologized for how badly he had treated me and wished me well. I had already forgiven him. We were just kids, after all.)

Two short weeks after that first dance, Tom and I spent a perfect day at the Renaissance Festival outside of Houston with my parents, my brother, his girlfriend, and Tom's best friend. That evening, it happened:

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes."

Wait! What? Was I crazy? 

"But don't tell anyone," I added. "Ask me again in a couple of months, and do it right, with a ring, even if it's a Cracker Jacks ring."

Two weeks was just too soon. I had to find out what was wrong with him. There had to be something - he was just too good to be true. Two months should be plenty of time.

But he called all of his brothers and friends, anyway and told them, "I'm getting married!"

They couldn't believe it. At his older brother's wedding just two months before we met, everyone had teased him he'd be next in line.

"No way! I'm too young. I'm not getting married until I'm thirty-five."

The two months later I had ordered landed on Thanksgiving Day. We celebrated at my parents' house, after I had worked all night and only squeezed in a couple of hours of sleep. 

I was sitting on the couch in the living room when he dumped a dozen boxes of Cracker Jacks on my lap and told me to start looking for a ring. 

"What? You're nuts. They don't put rings in Cracker Jacks boxes anymore."

"Okay, you open these two and I'll open these," he said, somehow still smiling at me, despite my crankiness.

Grumbling, I opened the first box and dug out the prize envelope. I felt it before I opened it... a ring!

My mouth dropped open. "Is it real?" But I knew it was. "How did you do that?"

I might have been a little foggy from lack of sleep, but I swear the box and envelope had both been sealed.

He took the ring from me, then offered it back. "Will you marry me?"

Of course I said yes - again.  The rest is history.

 

Aren't we cute? I first posted this in 2008, but the story remains the same, and will always be one of my favorites.

 

"I knew the second I met you that there was something about you I needed. Turns out it wasn't something about you at all. It was just you."

~ Jamie McGuire

 

Moving forward, but not forgetting...

 

Lord, take me where you want me to go;
Let me meet who you want me to meet;
Tell me what you want me to say; and
Keep me out of your way.

- Fr. Mychal Judge, FDNY (died 9/11/01)

 

 

Every year in late September, early October, I head to the coast with a group of friends for some beach therapy. Our annual adventure is coming up soon, in fact. We've gone every year since 1999 - except one. 

That September of 2001 we were counting down the days until we could wave goodbye to our families, ready for some alone time.... a few days not having to do anything for anyone but ourselves.

But on the afternoon of the 11th, we changed our minds. We no longer wanted to wave goodbye to our families - we wanted to wrap them around us, so close and tight we could feel their breath and smell their familiar sweetness.  

It wasn't a decision driven by fear. We knew the odds of some terrorist targeting our little Texas Hill Country town, or the little fishing town on the Gulf where we sought some peace and quiet, were slim to none.

But as that day progressed, we were reminded not to take our loved ones or the time we have with them for granted. Not to let a day go by without making sure they knew they were our whole world. Not to forget that every morning we may be opening our eyes to our very last day on this earth.

So that autumn we soaked up our families instead of the sunshine. We stayed close to home, pondered the changes in our country and our world. We prayed for peace.

But the next year we packed our swimsuits, sunscreen, magazines, Bloody Mary mix, and vodka, and headed for the beach. We've done so ever since. We continued our lives, relished our freedom, refusing to let fear mold our lives, for that would allow the terrorists to win. 

But we haven't forgotten the lessons we learned on September 11, 2001 and the days that followed, about the things that truly matter and the steel-strength of this nation. We haven't forgotten how we overcame our differences, although some days (especially around election time) it's hard to believe. We haven't forgotten those ordinary citizens who were called to be heroes - and accepted the call.

We haven't forgotten that by going about our lives, speaking our minds and sticking up for one another, we are fighting a war - and winning.

 

 

"This day and every day. Tear us down and we WILL rebuild. Knock us down and we WILL arise. We are people of diverse faith, ideologies, and color. We may be distracted or divided by internal matters, such as politics, but we are America and we will remain." 

~Johnny "Happy" Valentine, veteran and teacher

 

(A repost from 2012)

Surprises...

 

 

“God put us here, on this carnival ride.

We close our eyes never knowing where it'll take us next.” 

~Carrie Underwood

 

There are good surprises, and there are bad surprises.

Years ago I met a woman who impressed me with her beauty and bubbly personality. I didn't know her well, and haven't seen her in years, but back then we shared a lot of laughs at monthly PTA bunco games (not as innocent as they sound!)

Today I attended her memorial service. She was barely in her 40's. Learning of her death earlier this week was a bad surprise.

I spotted many friends at the service who I haven't seen or spoken to in years...not since our kids grew up. We all agreed we need to get together, under better circumstances.

I hope we do.

 

 

 

Yesterday I drove to a small town near San Antonio to help surprise my dear friend Nancy for her 50th birthday. I liked being part of a good surprise.

 

  

Nancy was my first friend in Lago Vista, then later agreed to be my Confirmation sponsor when I finally decided to convert to Catholicism after years of attending Mass with Tom and the kids, and months of discussing it with our priest.

Within a few years she had to move away from Lago, but we've somehow held onto our friendship, despite the distance (and age difference!)

 

 

Happy birthday tomorrow, Nancy!

 

"May your September be spacious like a long, slow bloom..." 

I've been reading Jennifer Richardson's beautiful, evocative, inspirational prose and photographs on her blog Ripplespeak for a few years now, so when she announced she was giving away a copy of her monthly zine, I crossed my fingers and tossed my comment into the bag. 

What a great surprise to hear I'd won! She sent two copies - one for me and one for my mom.

 Her words are like sunshine and fresh air, and I know I'll keep her zine close by to read often. You can get your own at her Etsy shop, Ripplesongs.

 

 

Another one of my favorite writers is Wolf Pascoe, author of the blog, Just Add Father.  We met in person when he came to Austin for a blog conference a few years ago.

Wolf is actually a pseudonym. Besides being a gifted writer, he's an anesthesiologist. He wrote about it in an e-book "Breathing for Two" last year. I immediately bought it, of course, but months turned into a year while it sat unread on my computer. (Who has time to read for pleasure when they're starting a business?)

So I finally broke down and bought the audio book last week. Wolf himself read it to me while I worked out and drove around Austin. (Why didn't I do this before?)

Here's my review on Amazon...

"In "Breathing for Two", Wolf Pascoe does a wonderful job weaving his story through the dry medical stuff, making even the history of anesthesiology come alive for the reader. He compels us to care about his patients and root for him when things go wrong. And he's very honest and upfront about his mistakes. I felt I was standing right beside him in anatomy class, and then later, as he watched over his patients. He relates the lessons he has learned in his decades as an anesthesiologist in such a way that they can be applied to everyone and to all areas of life. This is a book I could read over and over again, because I feel each time I'll get something new from it. I recommend the audio version - Wolf is a wonderful reader."

In short, go buy this book!

I wasn't surprised I loved the book, but I never thought I would like audio books, so that was a great surprise. I have two other e-books written by friends getting dusty on my computer. I'm going to see if there are audio versions for those, as well!

 

A week ago, Tom and I were discussing making that decision about Max. This morning, he made it to the top of the walkway before I did, and while we didn't go on a long walk, he did prance around and play with Belle. 

I believe in miracles. They are the best surprises, aren't they?

 

"I wish you hopeful eyes, fresh wings, and a second wind in the living."

~ Jennifer Richardson

 

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

 

Old puppies, morning walks, and other sweet!s

 

Whether it's the heat or just old age catching up to him, Max has gone down a pretty steep hill lately.

Just last week we took the long walk, around the curve and down into the creekbed. But now he can't walk far before having to stop and rest. Our walks have gotten shorter and shorter. This morning we barely made it past the next property before he was ready to head back home.

I'm not sure if that's due to his congestive heart failure, or because he hasn't eaten much of anything in several days, despite our coaxing. TG even tries to feed him by hand, a trick that has always worked in the past. (He's a little spoiled.)

He's still drinking and "marking his territory", if you get my drift, so that's a good thing, but I sure wish he'd start eating again.

I'm hoping it's just the heat. We're keeping him and Belle inside all day and half the night. It hasn't made a difference in his appetite, but it obviously makes him happy, and I'm grateful for the chance to repay some of the happiness he's provided me in his short life.

It's only been about ten years since he wandered up to our house and adopted us. Sure, he's a big dog - a German Shepherd/Great Dane mix, our vet guessed - and typically they don't live long lives, and yeah, the orthopedic doctor who diagnosed his elbow dysplasia when he was 18 months old said he could be lame by the time he was 7 years old even if we fed him the right food and gave him all the supplements.

But still ... ten years just isn't enough time with that old puppy.

However, this is a sweet! post, so I'll focus on the sweet moments with him over the past week...how happy he is to see me first thing in the morning ... how eager he is to get started on our morning walks ... the joy in his eyes when Belle kisses his whole face ... the pride in his eyes when he watches her run circles around us ... the way he snuggles against me, almost knocking me down ... his "Look how cute I am" pose, with one paw looped over his nose ...

It's amazing how they fit right into places in your heart you didn't realize were empty, isn't it?

 

I talk to him when I'm lonesome like; and I'm sure he understands. When he looks at me so attentively, and gently licks my hands; then he rubs his nose on my tailored clothes, but I never say naught thereat.

For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothes, but never a friend like that.

~W. Dayton Wedgefarth

 

 

 

Here are a few other sweet!s from the past week or so...

 

Wednesday: spending hours with your mom; celebrating your baby girl's birthday with pizza and chocolate cake; laughing and reciting lines while watching "Goonies" with your son and daughter

 

 

Thursday: discovering your aloe plant survived the winter after all

Friday: your mom winning in dominoes; an evening with all of your kids, your husband, and your brother-in-law from Arizona; a message from a longtime friend; a beautiful bracelet from your goddaughter

 

 

Saturday: showing houses in the morning and again in the evening; bridal showers; your brother-in-law wanting to visit your mom; playing 3-13 with family

 

 

Sunday: when everything falls into place, despite some disappointments along the way; steady traffic at your open house; visiting a dear friend from church with your mom 

Monday: your husband noticing, and fixing, your flat tire, even though it made him hit traffic on his way to work 

Tuesday: getting to work early and accomplishing a lot before lunchtime; the flexibility to run home and let your puppies in the house on a hot day; sharing cookies and watching "Andy Griffith" with your mom

Wednesday: a morning walk with your puppies for the first time in five days; time with good friends you don't see often enough; coconut milk chocolate mint ice cream with pecans and hot fudge

Thursday: the feel of raindrops on your skin; cancelled meetings that allow you to work from home; lots of showings on your listings; social time with your colleague-friends; ping-pong, ping-pong, ping-pong (especially when you win!)

 

 

I hope you've had a week full of sweet!s (share them in the comments!) and this next week you find so many more your cup overflows!

 

Daughters (and other sweet!s)

 

 

 

They grow so fast, don't they? One minute they're crawling around on your stylish-at-the-time-rose-colored carpet, exploring and investigating... picking on their older brothers, trying to stir things up...cuddling in your arms because they're still shorter than you and easy to pick up...

...and then suddenly they're wanting to explore far beyond your carpeted floors. And while they may still be picking on their older brothers, and every once in awhile they'll snuggle their head on your shoulder, they're now several inches taller than you and impossible to pick up. 

Yes, one minute you're holding them in your arms, counting tiny toes and fingers and praising God for the miracle that is a baby girl, and then somehow in the next you're wishing them a happy 23rd birthday (but still praising God for the miracle that is a baby girl, all grown up.)

Gosh, they grow so fast. And what a sweet! it is to witness the jouney.

 

A daughter may outgrow your lap, but she will never outgrow your heart. 

 ~Author Unknown

  

Happy birthday to my baby girl, my hero these days, who does such an awesome job of taking up my slack around the house so I can focus on my real estate business. May she always believe in herself and her gifts, and see her own dreams come true.

 

 

 

Here are some other sweet!s from this past week. Despite my intentions of writing less more often, the week got totally crazy...but in a good way.  Be sure to add your sweet!s in the comments!

 

Wednesday: precious five-year-old boys who talk to you at Starbucks and tell you about their birthday parties; roadrunners

 

 

Thursday: moonlight glazing your hollow; authentic Indian food on a beautiful evening with friends and laughter after a long day; your client's offer accepted after ping-pong-ish negotiations; two new listings

Friday: helping your son's friends find a new home; watching a movie with your son when you've hardly seen him all week

 

 

Saturday: meeting the neighbor to one of your new listings and his dog, Otis; the neighbor putting the "For Sale" sign up on the lot while you visit with Otis; watching "Fiddler on the Roof" with your daughter

 

 

Sunday: a slow-paced morning; watching your old dog swim and dragonflies play tag from the bank of your pond before church; inspirational boosts from Joel Osteen and the Garden of Eatin'; Reuben sandwiches; brave friends who will spray wasp nests for you; hanging out with dear friends all afternoon

 

 

 

Monday: joining others on committees to make things better; taking time to work out on a crazy, busy day; completing things that have been weighing on you; sisters, for a million reasons

 

 

Tuesday: discovering a Deepwater/Deer Park girl in Spicewood, Texas (Debbie, DPHS Class of '71!); rain falling through sunshine; visits with your mom; potential offers on your listings

Wednesday: reflecting on all of the ages of your beautiful daughter, and giving thanks that she's yours

 

As you twirl through the coming week, I hope you find tons of sweet! moments to treasure!

 A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery while on a detour.

~Author Unknown

 

Chuck-Will's-Widows, and other sweet!s

After a long day, I pulled up to my house at dusk and stepped out of the car, my brain whirring with the day's events and to-do's still left on my mental list.

Then the chuck-will's-widow sang to me, pulling me back into the moment and the beauty around me...

...the dusky blue horizon ... the glint of our metal roof, peeking out from the hollow, surrounded by cedars and oaks ... the quiet of the dirt road, and the soothing sound of a night bird's song.

Between grandpuppy-sitting and the 4th of July... and winning a multiple offer situation, yay!... this has mostly been a great week, so I had another title in mind for this post, involving puppies and parades (I like alliteration.) 

But after spending a few hours with a friend who is mourning her dad, followed by a visit with my mom, I knew when the chuck-will's-widow sang to me this evening that he would get top billing.

 

Birds sing after a storm;

why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever remains to them? 

~Rose F. Kennedy

 

And here are a few other sweet!s from the past week...

 

Tuesday - going on a property tour for first time in awhile; watching your mama walking, even if it's with the help of her awesome therapists; having your client's offer on a home accepted over three others

 

 

Wednesday - a backseat full of dog; your daughter's help taking both of your puppies to the vet for check-ups;  clean reports on your puppies from the vet; surprise parties; taking a belly dancing class with a good friend you never see otherwise

Thursday: pancakes; accountability meetings that keep you on track for your goals; getting another year-long promotional price on your phone and internet service; visits from grandpuppies

 

 

Friday: celebrating your country's birthday by sleeping in and walking your puppies; watching fireworks pop above the horizon from your back porch

 

 

Saturday:  riding on a float and sipping mimosas in a 4th of July parade in a small town; your friends' Model A painted Longhorn Orange; finally meeting someone in person who you met via your blog, who has property in your town he wants to sell; bobbing in a lake on a gorgeous day for a few hours while catching up with a friend

Sunday: knowing your kids arrived home safe and sound from a weekend in Chicago; spoiling your grandpuppy; showing houses; a great inspection report on your client's new home

Monday: your husband fixing your favorite shoes for you; lunch from Yummi Tacos with a friend; seeing friends you haven't seen in awhile; getting a hug from your oldest

 

 

Tuesday: office meetings and free lunches; La Grange, Texas; memories of road trips and eating at the Cottonwood Inn restaurant with your Daddy; being there for a friend who is mourning her daddy; seeing a longtime friend and the parents of another friend who you haven't seen in decades; a neck massage from your son

 

What made your heart soar, or at least sigh,  this week? Share it in the comments! I hope this next week is sprinkled with sweet! moments for you!

Happy Birthday, Long Hollow...and other long overdue sweet!s

 

Today is life - the only life you are sure of.

Make the most of today. Get interested in something. Shake yourself awake. Develop a hobby. Let the winds of enthusiasm sweep through you.

Live today with gusto.

~Dale Carnegie

 

On my left, a chuck-will's-widow sang to the sliver moon hanging in the dusky sky. On my right, a frog answered from the pond in a deep baritone. And in between cicadas chirped a staccato rhythm.

Belle at my feet, I rocked in my chair, adding my own squeaks to the evening symphony.

A strong breeze playing along the deck.I thought it was sweeping the mosquitoes away, but when I finally stepped back inside last night, the tiny bites on my arms let me know I had been wrong. But those brief moments catching my breath were worth a few little bites.

There's no definitive line between work and play for me anymore. My phone is never far away and I wear my Keller Williams name badge just about every where I go... because you just never know when you're going to meet the next person you can help.

But there are times I don't answer my phone, like during visits with my mom or in church or meeting with a client...or at a Shake Russell concert, like Sunday (although I did wear my name badge! You just never know....)

 

Shake Russell is a Texas music icon, one of my favorite artists for several decades, so I treated myself by going to an afternoon concert at the Saxon Pub on Sunday with my friend Maggie. She's been a fan of Shake's even longer than I have and had been urging me to go for over a month.

I'm so glad she did. It was long overdue, just like the rest of these sweet!s, so I'll get right to them...

 

 

Wednesday - a class on Facebook and a Realtor/happy hour/networking event, where you bump into a friend of your son's who you've known since they were in middle school

 

Friday - an afternoon spent visiting with a friend at her sister's house that has an awesome view of the Colorado River, aka Lake Austin; dancing under the stars with friends at Steiner Ranch Steakhouse; finding a parking spot when the lot is technically full

 

 

Saturday -  your son putting together a dresser for your mom; watching him with your mom, along with a half dozen episodes of "Who's the Boss"

Monday - the joy on your old dog's face as he swims in a pond on a summer morning;  word that ground is breaking on your client's new home

Tuesday - fawn triplets following their mama; a meeting with a buyer in the afternoon and a seller in the evening

Wednesday - giving thanks for lasting friendships with amazing people...whispering "goodbye" to one and shouting "happy birthday" to another

 

 

Thursday - working while cheering on the U.S.  in the world cup with your daughter; celebrating a friend becoming a U.S. citizen; watching the sun set on Lake Travis with colleagues; evening breezes; dancing with friends on a Thursday night

 

 

Friday - a friend reporting to you about the memorial service for another friend, because he knows you wanted to be there but couldn't; great finds at Goodwill, thanks to your daughter's sharp eye; celebrating a dear friend's birthday; Siamese cats and sweet dogs

Saturday - touring model homes; being able to stop and visit your mom on your way home, no matter where you've been; grilled chicken for dinner, courtesy of your daughter

Sunday:  Shake Russell's distinctive voice; the face of a dear friend you've missed; still being able to vent to your mom; a roadrunner couple crossing the dirt road in front of you; fajitas for dinner, courtesy of your son

Monday: new leads; showing cute houses to friends; your daughter keeping up with the laundry, dishes, and the home invasion of ants trying to escape the summer heat; your husband making it home safely after working 24 hours

 

 

 

"This is a big step for me - putting my thoughts out there for anyone...or no one...to read. Why am I doing it? I think it's to satisfy my conflicting needs of writing (a solitary journey) and connecting with other people. I really have no idea what I'm doing yet, so it will be fun to see how it evolves..."

 

That's what I wrote in my very first blog post ever, here on "Long Hollow" six years ago this month.  And it has been fun to see how it's evolved, and to think about how it expanded my world, connecting me to wonderful friends around the world. 

Happy birthday, Long Hollow!

I had completely forgotten about its birthday until someone wished me a "happy work anniversary" on LinkedIn. I'm so glad LinkedIn is keeping track!

Many of my posts were short and sweet back then. I need to get back to that, instead of waiting until I have two weeks' worth of thoughts to dump on you. 

Nevertheless, I'm going to leave you with one of my first, and favorite, posts, because rediscovering it this morning was another sweet!

I needed the reminder.

 

Coming back from the doctor this afternoon, tired from the weekend and too little sleep, and feeling depressed because I always believe the worst-case scenario when something is wrong, I stopped at HEB.  

"How's your day going?" the check-out boy asked. He was only about seventeen, tall, thin. Shaggy-ish brown hair. 

 "It's great," I said, but he was still looking at me. His question had been a real one, not just an automatic greeting. "I'm just a little worn out," I added. 

 "I thought so. I see it in your face." 

 I couldn't bear to spread this "down" that had taken control of me, and especially not to this sweet kid. I was ashamed that I had let it get to me - I have so much to be grateful for.

I smiled at him. "Every day is a great day."  That's what I believe, even if can't always feel it.  But he made me remember. So...I said a prayer for him on my way out. 

God has a way of dropping gifts in our path. Somehow, he knows just what we need. God bless that check-out boy.

  

And God bless all of you today! Thank you so much for stopping by to say hello, whether you've been coming around for six years or this is your first time.

Don't forget to share your sweet!s with me in the comments!

 

 

 

Ky, my friend

 

“It was an odd friendship, but the oddnesses of friendships are a frequent guarantee of their lasting texture.”

~Ford Madox Ford

 

First thing this morning,  my heart was broken.

I was preparing to do my homework for a class, had barely started eating my cereal, when I checked my email and saw the message from my dear friend Ky's son, letting me know he passed away on Monday.

And thus began a day of tears. 

I just saw Ky in January at our second DuPont Old Farts Club reunion. Sure, his hair was all white, but otherwise, to me he hadn't aged a bit since we first met in 1982. He was energetic, all smiles, so happy to be there and reconnect with the rest of us.

 

 

I never, ever suspected that would be the last time I saw him. Maybe some of the others. But not Ky.

After all, I've actually seen him two other times since we both hung up our hardhats, at the weddings of two of his seven sons. 

 

 

 

He loved to talk about those sons and his wife on our long twelve-hour shifts. He would also tell stories about having to leave his home in China when the Communists took over, and then years later having to flee Viet Nam with his young family for the same reason. He told me he learned English from reading Reader's Digest magazines.

I loved his stories.

Ky never called me "Barbara". It was always "Barbie." And that was okay. I can hear him even now.

I don't remember how or when we became such good friends. It just happened. As odd as it seems, there was something inside each of us that transcended gender age, nationality, religion...even language.

There was something that was the same, allowing a forty-something Chinese Buddhist father of seven sons and the twenty-something Texan Baptist newlywed woman to form a friendship that would span decades.

Ky enriched my life. The tears that flowed today were in sorrow, of course, that his open and honest smile would no longer shine in this world, but they were also in gratitude for knowing him and relief that I didn't miss an opportunity to see him when it was given.

Ky knew how much our friendship meant to me, which gives me peace, and my memories bring me smiles. I guess I can't ask for more than that.

Thank you, and may you rest in peace, Ky, my dear, dear friend.

Ky's death wasn't just unexpected to me. It caught his family by surprise as well, so please keep them all in your prayers. He left an awesome legacy...as good men always do.

The first Father's Day...

 

Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes.

~Gloria Naylor

 

 

For the first Father's Day in years and years, I don't have a phone call or road trip to make. Tom and I have both lost our dads, and, well, I have kind of a lost feeling today.

I'm glad I took the time the last few Father's Days to travel to Houston so I could spend the day with Daddy, and be sure he knew how grateful I am that God allowed me to be his daughter. The photo above was taken last year. In my heart I knew it was probably the last Father's Day I'd spend with him.

 

 

I didn't get to see Pop as often, but we talked a lot on the phone, especially the last year of his life. I'm sure he, too, knew how grateful I am that God allowed me to become his daughter through marriage. I didn't realize the photo above would be the last one I took of him.

 

This year I focused on Tom ... on getting a plan in place to celebrate him, so he knows how grateful I am that he's the father of my children. It was low-key, the way he wanted it. Just us, the kids, and my mom enjoying hamburgers fresh off the grill.

And all around us, the memory of two other very special fathers.

 

 

The greatest gift I ever had
Came from God; I call him Dad!
~Author Unknown

 

Happy birthday to the best mother-in-law in the world...

 

Tom and I were driving up to Maryland for the first time so I could meet his family and childhood friends before our wedding. It was my first time in Tennessee, the Carolinas and all of those other states between Texas and Maryland.

What a fabulous trip - seeing the sunrise just outside of Nashville, driving through the Smokies, the Blue Ridge, and the Shenandoah Mountains, seeing the lights of Washington D.C.

But I think it was soon after we crossed the Virginia state line that I started scavenging for food in the car - I was getting really nervous about meeting his family, and that's one thing I do when I'm nervous. Eat.

When I ran out of food, I pulled out my "practice" photo, the one of Tom and all of his eight brothers - yes, I said "eight" - taken at a recent wedding, and started testing myself on the names. Thank goodness I'd only be meeting five on this trip.

I was mostly nervous about meeting his mom. I would be the first non-Catholic daughter-in-law! We had written back and forth and she seemed to like me, but I couldn't keep those worries out of my head. 

Now I can't believe I was ever nervous. Mom welcomed me with open arms and her beautiful bright smile. She and Pop treated me like their own daughter from the very start.

Over the years, I've seen and heard tales of horrible mother-in-laws, and I realize how very lucky I am...not only did I snag the best husband ever, but he came wrapped in a package with this fabulous woman.

She raised nine boys into nine good men without losing her sense of humor, sense of self, and sense of fun.  She's the kind of mother-in-law who was quite willing to turn the care of her sons over to their wives, thank-you-very-much. There was never any kind of test to see if I was "good enough" for Tom - as long as he loved me and thought I was the right one, she did, too.

She's always been quick to help and quick with advice...when asked. I've learned by watching her and my own mother how to generously give of myself to my family and my community, but ensure I retain something for myself.

Today is Mom's birthday. Tom is with her. He's been there all week, along with Steve, the Arizona brother, alternating between painting and playing cards, depending on the rain. She raised good sons.

I wish I could have been with her, rather than just sending my happy birthday wishes over the phone... and in a slightly altered blog repost.  Maybe next year.

But the wishes are true whether given in person or over the phone, for showers of birthday blessings in the coming year.

I love you, Mom!

 

With mom and my Shallue sisters a few years ago - she made us all family.

  Dancing with son #2 at "The. Most. Beautiful. Wedding. Ever." last year.

 

 With the first seven. 

I really can't even imagine this, can you? Those two imps on the far right are the ones who have been busy painting this past week.

 

Memorial Day...memories and gratitude

 

Thanks to you...

...I slept in a little this morning, until the impatient sunlight pestered me awake.

...I walked with the dogs along a country road, safe and free.

...I'll spend time with my family, maybe play some ping-pong with my kids or watch a movie. 

Thanks to you...

...I grew up in a country where I (mostly) make my own choices.

...I live in a land where my dreams are limited only by my own lack of creativity, ambition and drive.

...my children face a future where almost anything is possible.

...I'm free to live my life because you gave your own.

 

I promise I won't forget. I promise I won't take it for granted.

I promise your sacrifice won't be wasted on me.

 

 

I wrote that post a few years ago, but it sums up my feelings so well, I wanted to share it again.

Memorial Day always triggers a little extra gratitude in me for a completely different reason, so here's another slightly-altered repost...

 

We spent that Memorial Day in 1998 with our kids and other families, swimming in a cold river, eating fresh pineapple, grilling burgers. That night we laughed and danced to Johnny Dee and the Rocket '88s.

Then a phone call early on Tuesday morning made me realize how much I had been taking for granted and how quickly life can change directions.

That Tuesday was sixteen years ago today, but at times it feels like yesterday. Tom left for work, expecting it to be like any other day, but it wasn't.  He didn't expect the other car to come into his lane, didn't expect to spend a week in the hospital or the summer trying to heal and recover instead of building our home. He didn't expect to live with pain for the next sixteen years.

But that's what happened, whether he expected it or not. And the thing is, we got through it. We built our home... not that summer, but there were other summers... and I'm grateful for that.

We've spent more days swimming in cold water with family and friends, and evenings laughing and dancing. I don't think a day goes by when Tom isn't in some degree of pain, but somehow he moves on and doesn't let it stop him from doing what he needs, or wants, to do.

It wasn't the last unexpected detour in our road we've encountered, and I'm sure there are more waiting for us. I can't say I'm grateful it happened. I'd love to tell you something positive that came from it, but honestly, I haven't been able to see that ray of light yet. Perhaps it's shining where I can't see it. I can only hope so.

But life is just too short for grudges and regrets that burn holes in your heart, for dwelling on the past or the future so long that you miss your today.

It's too short not to pursue your passion even if you only have a few seconds free each day to do it.

Too short to sit back and wait for things to happen, or for someone else to do it, or to make excuses.

Too short not to love with your whole heart, leaving no room for pride or selfishness, always trying to understand, listen, forgive, and ask forgiveness.

Too short not to take care of yourself and those you love.

Life is just too short, period, and too wonderful to take for granted.

Happy 16th anniversary of a second chance, Tom. I love you!

 

(I've spared you the most graphic images of Tom. His face was split open. You're welcome. I took notes during those long days and turned them into an essay... "In the Aftermath of a Car Crash" )

 

Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.

~Gladys Bronwyn Stern

 

What are you grateful for?

April 27 - a very good day for Saints and Lovebirds

 

 

Somewhere in Seattle tonight, one of my favorite couples in the whole wide world are sipping champagne, gazing into each other's eyes, and thinking back to that magical evening exactly one year ago when they said "I do" under the limbs of the big oak tree at Barr Mansion.

It's hard for me to believe my son and his bride are already celebrating their first anniversary ... until I think of all that has happened in those 365 days since The. Most. Beautiful. Wedding. Ever.

If you look to the left of the preacher in the photo above, you'll see my mom in red and Daddy beside her. I'm so grateful they were able to share in the joy of that evening.

 

"Do not be afraid.
Do not be satisfied with mediocrity. 
Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch."

~St. John Paul II 

That is such a great quote for marriage, isn't it? Or really anything we feel called to do that requires a leap of faith.

I'm adopting it as a daily inspiration for my real estate career, where I have to overcome my natural shyness and remind myself that by helping others I'm helping my family.

Speaking of Saint Pope John Paul II....besides being my son and daughter-in-law's anniversary, today is also his canonization day, along with that of Pope John XXIII. I'm happy about that because each of them deserves some credit for my conversion to Catholicism. And I think everyone who has known me since at least my junior high days will know that my conversion might just qualify as a miracle.

Saint Pope John XXIII was responsible for Vatican II, which among other things, allowed Mass to be said in a country's native language, instead of Latin. He was Pope in 1959, when I was born, but since I was born into a Baptist family, that didn't mean a thing to me.

I really didn't pay any attention to Popes or Catholicism until 1978, when John Paul II became Pope. I was working shiftwork at a chemical plant, and one slow night, I discovered a Time magazine stashed in the boiler lab with a feature article about the new Pope. He fascinated me, and I read everything I could about him and the Catholic church.

I met Tom in 1981 and we married in the Catholic church, but I didn't officially join the church for another thirteen years. Once I did, I could see how my path to Catholicism began all those years ago on a slow night in the boiler lab.

Or maybe on the day I was born. Maybe before that. Who knows?

Whenever it was, I'm grateful to these two for the example they've given on how to live a life of faith and love.

 

 

"The future starts today, not tomorrow."

~Pope St. John Paul II

 

Irish Blessings on St. Patrick's Day

 

 

Bridget Shallue was just 52, younger than I am now and already a widow, when she said goodbye to Ireland in 1852 with her grown children...chased away by the potato famine, I'm sure.

If she ever returned, it isn't mentioned in the family lore.

Accompanied by two daughters and two sons, Bridget first arrived in Quebec, traveled to New York, and finally settled in Wisconsin in 1856.

One daughter died on the passage from Ireland and was buried at sea. Two older sons chose Australia over America to begin their new life. I doubt if she ever saw them again; her goodbye to those sons was probably as final and heartbreaking as her goodbye to her home, her homeland and her husband Thomas's grave - he had died just a few years before, at age 45.

And then the added heartbreak of watching a daughter's lifeless body disappear into the ocean...heartbreak I just can't imagine.

My own Tom Shallue and I found all of this out shortly after we were married, by talking to relatives and researching in libraries. We traced his family back to Ennistyman, County Clare...to that first Tom's grave, but that was as far as we could go. There was no Internet twenty-five years ago, no Ancestry.com, and we couldn't afford a trip over to do our own research or to hire a professional to do it for us.

It hit me that I knew more about the Shallue history than my Wilson's, so the next few years I focused my genealogical fervor on that line and other branches of my family ... for example, my great-great grandfather George, memoir writer and protagonist of (one of) my book-in-progress.

But today is St. Patrick's Day and my thoughts are green...drawn toward the Shallue family and Ireland. Tom and I dream of traveling there one day, visiting the places that are only names on a map to us right now.

The photo above isn't the final resting place of a direct descendant - it was taken by an aunt or cousin on a visit to Ireland several years ago - but it's no doubt a relative because every Shallue is related. There just aren't that many!

Even these very names...James, Margaret and Denis Shallue...are echoed on tombstones across the ocean in America.

The Australian Shallues were always a mystery to the American branch. Rumor had it those brothers got on the wrong boat...they went to Australia totally by accident!

The funny thing is, the American and Australian Shallues have connected on Facebook, of all places, but I still haven't gotten any clear answers about how they ended up there.

I have no big celebrations planned today, unfortunately. If you do, have fun and be safe!

Here's wishing all of you a happy St. Patrick's Day!

 

May you always walk in sunshine.
May you never want for more.
May Irish angels rest their wings right beside your door.

 

 

 

 

 

If this sounds familiar, thank you for being a longtime reader! It is an old post, just updated a little.

Number 1: Laughing Hard Times into Wine

 

 

 

 

1. This is my new favorite quote:

“The woman had laughed the hard times into wine.”
-Ann Voskamp 

I'm not sure if it's possible to laugh hard times into wine, except theoretically, of course... but I love the imagery of it. Thanks to Jennifer at Ripplespeak for posting it. (And for all of her own beautiful words full of imagery and inspiration!)

 

 

 

2. I've had to spend a lot of time dealing with the Social Security Administration and other agencies lately, trying to get things straightened out for my mom. It can be pretty frustrating and confusing.

So when I was having trouble getting my mom's birth certificate last week at the Bureau of Vital Statistics, my son Daniel moved up to total Rock Star status with me when he provided the information and advice via text that I needed to help the Bureau employees figure out what to do in only one trip!

I forgave him any headaches he gave me when he was little.

 

 

3. Have you heard of Sundown Syndrome? I hadn't until my mom started showing signs of it. Sigh.

 

 

4. I just created a Nextdoor.com group for my neighborhood. It's kind of like Neighborhood Watch, only online.

"Nextdoor is the private social network for you, your neighbors and your community. It's the easiest way for you and your neighbors to talk online and make all of your lives better in the real world. And it's free." (from the website)

I heard about it in a real estate class and thought it would be perfect for my little area where walking next-door is a bit of a hike and the potential for wildfires is very, very real.

 

 

(photo from the Duluth Animal Hospital Facebook Page)

5.And last but not least, just in case I'm NOT the last person in the world to meet this adorable couple, I'm introducing you to Roo and Penny, best buddies who were both adopted by Alicia Williams of the Duluth Animal Hospital. Daniel introduced them to me. 

I have fallen totally head over heels, wanting to reach in and cuddle both of them, in love with them! 

If you're like me and can't get enough of their cuteness, go HERE to learn more about their stories.

God bless Alicia for saving them.

 

 

Joining with Nancy's...