Adios, TI

Today is a really interesting day for one of my pals.  This gal is probably one of the smartest, neatest, nicest  people I know, and has worked at Texas Instruments for.........32 years.  Yep.  Seriously.  It's the first job she took right out of college with her MBA and her CPA, and she has been there ever since.  And today is her last day.  Hello, retirement and a big fat yahoo to that.

I cannot even imagine what it must have been like to work at the same place for 32 years.  She's ascended the TI chain like a meteor and I'll never forget way back when, she asked Fred and I if we would be character references for her, and of course we said "Sure".  We were not prepared for the next part, though....we would be visited at our home by an FBI agent, as my friend was being investigated prior to being given some super dooper high level Security clearance.  Yikes! The FBI at my house??? 

A few days later, up drove this ugly white non-descript Chevy or Buick, and out hopped the most unassuming guy you could ever imagine.  I still remember what he had on...light colored slacks, a short sleeved (cheapo) perma-press shirt, with a pocket protector-- I swear.  He questioned both of us, asked if our friend had ever espoused any Communist leanings, among other things.  I remember wanting to laugh out loud when he asked that, but was scared to death he might think we were hiding something.  Plus, I'm not thinking the FBI probably has a great sense of humor anyway. 

I knew my friend was retiring soon but for some reason I thought it was in April.  Not so, Kemo Sabe.  Today is her big day and I salute her for all of her years of hard work and dedication--not to mention trips all over the world.  You go, Betsy! 

Robes

I just love being right.  It just puts a smile on my face and a big old "I told you so" all over me.  Such was the case with Brian & Fred, this weekend.  Earlier in the week, I had found these killer soft robes at Restoration Hardware that I just knew they'd like.  I was already prepared for the flack I'd get----- until they tried them on.....oh, yeah, baby....that's when I knew I'd have them.  These are the plush ultra soft snugly ones that get even better as you wash them.  And, they were on sale. 

As I figured, they each said they "didn't need one".  OK, fine.  So I bought Fred's.  He freaked.  One down, one to go (Brian).   Benji already had one.  I throw caution to the wind, buy Brian one, and call him to come get his "sussy".  He knows it's the robe...rags on me...and finally comes to try it.  He pulls it out of the package, feels it, and just starts laughing......  Despite all his previous protests that he "doesn't need one", he tries it on to be sure it fits, smiling and ahhhhing, puts it back in the sack, and off he goes with it.  When it's gets ultra cold this week, I know who is going to be all wrapped up in their robes.  OOOO, la la. 
Now you want one, too, don'tcha?

Smoke is a don't

While Sis and I drink coffee together in our shared chair, I thought I'd save you some time and money and tell you to skip a trip to Oak Cliff, to try Smoke.  We went last night for Fred's birthday dinner and while it's been written up lately as a fun new place--the food has yet to catch up.  We both had ribs that looked like they'd come off of Godzilla and they were fairly good, and really tender.  They came with mac'n cheese that was just lackluster.....how in the world do you screw up mac'n cheese??  And Fred's grits were just as forgettable.  No flavor, icky texture--just random bad.  As was our appetizer--I won't even go there.

But, the dessert Fred chose was OUTSTANDING.  It was a Key lime Pie with Mescal, and a meringue that stood four inches tall.  I'd go back again just for the pie--nuthin' else.  This thing put the "P" in pie, dontcha know.  When I saw four enormous ones in the refrigerator case as we were leaving, I asked the price of a whole pie--just in case I might need that information.  I was told, with a totally straight face, "$70"...and that somehow that included an extra piece.....never could figure out the logic on that one...a whole pie and an extra piece...from where???  The guy then told me the pies have to be baked in a glass pie plate so when you return the pie plate, you get your $20 deposit back that they tack on in case you don't bring it back.  That still makes it a $50 pie.  OK...that did it for me.  Seeeee ya.

Bike shorts....ugh

One of the serious gardeners is already hard at work up at the Garden.  Sis and I went by on our walk and had to go investigate.  On closer inspection, Jerry, an older retired tomato growing wizard was up unloading a trailer of fresh new coal black rick organic matter that will again prove he really knows what he's doing.  He'd already filled his patch and appeared to be filling a female friend of his and his wife's, as the work is a tad strenuous for her.  I hope so....it would practically kill me and I'm younger than she is.  He said he would be planting soon so Sis and I will swing by and watch that, too.  I know it's almost time for potatoes and a few other hardy vegetables but the tomatoes will need a while longer for it to warm up.  One good cold snap and freeze, and you'll be down at Mrs. Lemley's with me, buying your tomatoes by the basket.

And I just have to weigh in on this: Bike shorts.  Why do they have to be so ugly?  The look like a pair of black spandex Depends.  I get why they need that tush-cush in those sensitive areas but it looks like a diaper or worse yet, an incontinence pad.  Why not just pad the bike seats instead of making them so small, hard, and bony??  Then we don't have the ugly crotch grabber shorts problem.  So what if the bike seats aren't as aerodynamic??  Pull up your spandex Depends and get over it.  But loose the bike shorts.  Puuuuulease.

Vegas, baby

Nashville update: Scarletta has played several showcases in the last two weeks for different record labels and was on TV after a recent 2 day music fest in Nashville.  He says they played for RCA and another couple of labels, specifically, but I can't remember who they were since I am old and out of the music loop.  But here's the best part: Aburey, Scarletta's lead singer, and her whole family were planning a trip to Sodom and Gomorrah to celebrate her youngest sister's 21st birthday this weekend, and they asked Benji and Andrea if they wanted to tag along.  To Sin City??  With built in playmates??  Is there any other answer but HELL, YES?  So, off they go this afternoon, for a long weekend in FUN CITY.  I can hardly wait to hear the stories he comes back telling....and that's the ones he'll tell.....no telling what he'll edit out.  To me, the best part is always the stories people come back telling and the stuff they see.  Those whales are an interesting crowd and the women are always mind blowing.  There's definitely going to be some serious fun going on in the next three days.

If Benji and Andrea end up at the Little White Chapel in Vegas, with Elvis marrying them, just know we won't be surprised.  Nothing surprises us anymore.  I just hope they film it, if they do.  And not with his cell phone, either.

They got some great deal at the Luxor so they'll be livin' large and actin' the fool, no doubt.  Isn't that what Vegas is for?  Wish I was going!!!

And, Happy Birthday, Fred!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Signals and language

Sis and I just returned from our daily walk--I am trying to make an extra effort for us to do that each day.  She loves it and it's good for me as well, though I need to do a power one without her stopping to sniff--or do worse things.  My observation today was that I'm having to learn to read Sis, the same way I learned Wig.  After such a long time with him, alone, before we got her, I could almost tell what every muscle twitch meant--the whining towards the end of his life I never fully got--but the rest was almost like a conversation between us.  I could tell when he was pissed, feeling stubborn, hurting, happy, depressed--you name it. Now I need to learn Sis's language.

When I asked Sis outside if she wanted to "go", she ran to my car.  When I told her "no, we're not going in the car", she looked sooo disappointed.  I finally realized she thinks "go" means in the car, to the Farm or someplace fun--even just for a ride.  When I said no, she ran back up on the porch thinking she'd goofed.  Once I got that, I asked her if she want to go on a "walk", and clipped on her leash.  Suddenly, we were back in 'bidness and off we went.  We have a ways to go in learning each others language and signals, but we're making definite progress.  We used to have to say a "W" in front of Wigman because he knew the difference between "go" and "walk", and if we didn't take him after we mentioned a walk, he'd make you pay.  And, you'd feel like d-i-r-t, too.  Too soon to know about Sis, other than we know she retaliates by getting into trash cans.  These German dogs....good Lord.

For some reason, that got me thinking about when I was in grade school, and took English riding lessons and jumping with a friend, a couple of days a week after school.  I think I was in about third grade and my instructor assigned me a horse named Herman and he was every bit as bad as he sounds.  He wasn't real big, but what he didn't have in height, he made up for in stubbornness--he was straight up ornery and laaaaaaaazyyyyyyyy.  I used to have to wear English spurs on my black knee boots to every single lesson to wail on Herman.  By the time my lesson was over, my legs were like jelly from squeezing and pounding on his sides and, given that he was already pretty round and roly-poly, I bet he didn't feel half of it.  That's when my instructor told me to get a crop out of the tack room--so I could apply both together.  Herman woke up a tad bit more but not a lot, simply because he didn't have to.  I was simply a gnat on his back, for one hour, so he just did the minimum, no matter what I did.  I also had to ride with double reins--a snaffle and a curb--in order to make him behave. Sometimes my instructor would get on his sorry old self and force him to work, but the minute I got back on, we were right back where we started from.  God, I hated him during a lesson. 

Looking back, graduating from Herman was one of the happiest days of my life.  I think my instructor figured if I could learn to make Herman behave, I could ride anything after that.

Buttermilk pie....almost

In an attempt to help Benji's friend, Dr. Cooper Boone, become Good Morning America's advice guru, Fred and I were voting last night like two crazy people, only to see our votes barely make a dent in his rival's total.  Coop is carrying way more states--his rival just has some kind of machine out there, voting.  We would nudge ahead only to have her peeps do what they do...take over the lead.  I finally decided when Fred told me she's carrying 100% of Utah, she's a Mormon, and they have people, don'tcha know.  As for the other states she has, well, it's all northern states and their brains are all just frozen solid, so they just do what they're told and vote.  It's too cold to do anything else.

Late yesterday afternoon, I made a buttermilk (chess) pie that was interesting.  I'd never made one before and was just intrigued to see how it all worked.  It would help a lot when I cook if I did what they tell you to do on all the cooking shows and make sure you have everything you need, and even measure out exactly what you'll need, before you start.  Did I do that?  Noooooo.  And did I mention roaming the neighborhood with a measuring spoon in my hand, trying to find someone home, who had a tablespoon of cornmeal I was just sure we had, but didn't?  Did I forget the butter, pull the pie I had just put in the oven, back out, pour the liquid contents back in a bowl, add the butter, stir it all up, and then put it back into the oven?  Yeah, I did.  I told you it was interesting.  And, it alllllllmost worked, but not quite--- and what was supposed to taste like a chess pie, tasted more like a bite of waffle, with syrup.  Not bad.....just not what I'd planned on. If nothing else, that pie made me howl and if I wasn't so embarrassed at my flub, I'd have taken a picture for your amusement but I'm not digging it out of the trash.  That's definitely where it belongs.  Here's what it was supposed to look like, but didn't.  Oh, well......

EOAD....egads

OK....you can't fool me.  It's still winter outside and no amount of sunshine is going to change that.  Brrrr.  Sis and I have been trying to walk most days but when it's really cold, neither one of us wants to go--especially in the wind.  We'd much rather snuggle up together in a chair and visit.  We've talked quite a bit lately and while she usually seems OK with Wiggles gone, sometimes she still acts sad and just down right weird--like she's just not sure how this thing works being an only dog.  Since we tend to spend a fair amount of time together, I've already warned Fred I'm going to turn her to the dark side---that's what I call it when a dog becomes mine.  Every now and then, I think she's turned, only to have Fred drive in the driveway.  Nope....not a chance. She might like me for all the loving and scratching, but she's all about him for the FUN.  Those two are just like fly paper--stuck on each other.

Over the weekend, Fred found an old pic of Sis as a puppy, lying on my legs, and sent it to the boys, and both went nuts. It's hard to imagine her now ever being that small but clearly she was.  No wonder we brought her home.  Little baby animals are just way cuter than they should be.  Rational thought just flies out the window when you get a sniff of puppy smell and a stroke of that ever so soft, slick, puppy furrrrrrrr.  And puppy breath?  They should bottle it and sell it.

On another note, a wonderful friend loaned me a copy of Still Alice, a novel by Lisa Genova, and it's the story of a Harvard Professor's diagnosis of early onset Alzheimer's disease, at the ripe old age of 50.  The interesting part is, it's written from the perspective of the person with the disease, and what it feels like to have EOAD (early onset Alz. disease).  While a lot of it I already knew, there were a few things that I found especially helpful to know and understand.  It seems lots of Alzheimer sufferers fall often, due to the inability to judge spatial issues.  They may misjudge where the edge of a chair or sofa really is.  Another was that while they  may have difficulty understanding the gist of a conversation, they often have an increased ability to read body language and feelings.  In other words, they may not know the specifics of what's happening but they sure as heck can feel it.  Great information for me and another thank you here to my friend, for the loan.  The down side?  Now I think I'm getting EOAD and am paranoid.  Yes, it's inherited and yes there is a test to determine if you will get it or not.  The reality?  Mom doesn't have EOAD--a little fact I also forgot.

Family secrets

If you missed the Oprah show yesterday, you missed a doozie.  Miss O announced a family secret that she'd been in the dark about until recently--that she had a half sister that had been given up for adoption by her mother, when O was living with her dad and stepmother, in another part of the country.  To say that she was shocked by this new information would be an understatement--especially after all of the years she's spent reuniting other family members.  She said she'd always thought to herself "I wonder what that feels like?"  I think she certainly knows now.

The specifics of the story are miracles in and of themselves, from her recently found sister's name being the same name as the younger sister of Oprah's that died after a drug overdose, to the fact that they so closely resembled each other.  The list just went on and on.  It was almost unbelievable.  But the thing I think that grabbed me most was Oprah's reaction to how this whole story had unraveled itself.  She cried when she first attempted to tell the audience how her new half sister had handled knowing she was related to Oprah.  It seems her sister had suffered several denials and rebuffs from their mother, in their mother's attempt to maintain the secret.   The sister had told her pastor what was happening and been given counsel numerous times.  The sister said she had given it all to God to work out.

But most impressive was the fact that both the sister and her two grown children had known Oprah was their immediate relative for 5 years, and had not ever attempted to sell their story to the tabloids, or profit from it in any way.  They did not seek to "out Oprah" or her mother, or embarrass either of them in any way.  All the sister wanted was to connect with her family, since as an orphan, she'd never had one.

Oprah shared on TV that her other sister, the one that had died of an OD, had sold a story about Oprah to the tabloids, and that as a public person she's been used and "sold out" many times--even by family--but not this time.  She said that was the number one reason she wanted to meet this new sister was because of the sister's integrity and dignity in the way she handled this painful situation.

More may come to light about this revelation--maybe not.  But for a woman in the public eye to have someone so fully and completely have her back-- and then turn out to be family--must have knocked the stuffing out of Oprah.  What a mind blower...

Well, it's about time...

I just finished reading in the newspaper--the paper one since they are still throwing it despite my cancellation--something that gives me hope that we really are making progress in this world towards acceptance of other people who might be different from us.  In the Guide section on Sunday's, there is a page called True Romance, that every week features a couple that's been together for eons or who got together through an interesting story--usually hardship.  Today's wasn't all that different--I'm sure this couple has seen their share of difficulties--but what made it remarkable to me is that the couple was two gay men in their late seventies and early eighties.  They've been together for over fifty years and are clearly as devoted to each other as any heterosexual couple.  Well, duh.  Love is love, after all.  But what got my attention most is that the the Dallas Morning News has finally come of age and is willing to feature a gay couple, despite what some may think. 

Five years ago, there's just no way this would have happened, and if certain ministers in town decide to make this an issue, we'll all be hearing about it.  A lot.  You can bet the farm on that one.  Sometimes I forget just how far behind we are in the Bible Belt, until something like this jogs my memory, and then I have to remind myself:  progress not perfection.  My congratulations to these two gentlemen.  May they have many more happy and healthy years together.  And let's keep moving forward.

And speaking of moving forward, the Washington Post featured an article a few days ago that I found particularly noteworthy.  The gist of it was this: let's make February a No Palin month.  Not a word, no pictures, nada, zip, zero.  Only I suggest this: let's make it a No Palin DECADE.  Now that's progress.

Seriously pink

How's this for girly?  Poke your eye out, pink, no?  When I saw it at Sam's, of all places, I knew I had to have one for Hadley's birthday today.  The pillow is as soft as real bunny fur but synthetic as all get out, and the faux fur is in swirls, that look like rosebuds.  Perfect for TV lounging or snoozing.  It probably won't last longer than thirty minutes since we are talking Sam's after, all but whatev.  And, it's big enough for two small heads if you feel like sharing with your older brother, whose main job right now is simply to torture you, since it's your birthday, and not his.

  The bad news is, now I want one.   It would be fun to snuggle up and read with one, and hey, big girls like soft stuff, too.  Unfortunately, there are none that would work for me color wise--wah-- so I'll just have to big girl up and go without.   There were no Star Wars one's for Hudson either--just major girly colors--- and he'd rather have Lego's for his birthday in February anyway, so both Hudson and I came up empty on that one.  I also found a pair of adorable pink, purple and white mukluks (combo of socks and slippers)  for Had to wear, while lounging on her pillow.  Look closely and you can see them folded in half, tied onto the pillow.

I texted the pic of Had's pillow to my sister, and she found sheets to match at Pottery Barn for Kid's. The sheets are so cute that now I want those, too.  And it's not my birthday either, Hudson.  Rats.

YBob

Exactly one year ago today, in the late afternoon, my friend's husband committed suicide.  I won't rehash it all here but suffice it to say, it was one of the most devastating events I've ever encountered.  Today will be one tough day for my friend and I've sent her all the love and prayers I can come up with to get her through this day.  One year anniversaries of a loss can be like revisiting the death all over again.  Your brain goes numb but the rest of you feels an exquisite pain unlike any other.  With good professional help and a supportive network to lean on, you can get through it--it's just no fun in any way, shape, or form.

I think about my friend's husband all the time.  I think about how much I enjoyed him and his myriad kindness, all while he had to be suffering unimaginably inside.  I wish I'd known.  I wish somebody--anybody--had known, and could have gotten him help.  He was a true gentleman and a precious angel and I sure miss him.  We love you, YBob.

Pretend

One of my friends has the greatest imagination ever, and she's well in to her sixties--close to seventy.  She told me every year on Jan. 1st, she pretends that it's the first day of Spring.  She says winter is usually cold and dull so rather than fight it, she just pretends it's something else.  She puts pots of pansies and other winter hardy plants on her front porch, and to keep the pansies blooming, you have to pick them so she has small clusters in tiny vases through out her house.  No wonder I feel a gravitational pull every time I try to drive by Nicholsen-Hardie plant store.  I have to fight the pull to turn into their parking lot but when I do give in, just walking around all those lush plants and Spring bloomers floods my senses.  The smell, the slight feel of the humidity, the riot of color all makes me smile without realizing it.  Ahhhhh.

When I thought about it further, I realized I pretend all the time.  I pretend I'm skinny, I pretend that it's OK for me to have dessert and that crumbs don't count, and my best pretend is that the people on TV doing all those exercises and yoga, have worked out for me, so I don't have to.  Yep.  That's definitely my favorite one.  Personally, I think a good old game of pretend is what keeps most of us going.  In a more harsh sense, I guess you could also call it DENIAL, but that takes all the damn fun out of it.  I like pretend a whole lot better.  It's lots more child like and less finger pointy.

Brian came by last night to pick up his food for his freezer that I'd made so on night's that he comes home exhausted, dinner is done, as long as he thaws something the night before in the refrigerator.  When he called, I went to check and be sure we had enough pork chalupa stuff left (roll it in a warm soft flour tortilla and add the fixin's) and then told him to come eat, if he was hungry.  Errrrrrrrrrrk.  Truck pulling up in driveway a few minutes later.  Nothing is more gratifying to this old May-May than feeding her chicks.  Even that old rooster of mine, too.
  Brian hung around after dinner and we ended up talking, and talking,.... and then we started laughing..... and telling stories.  Boy, what a gift our kids are.  I hadn't laughed that hard in ages and what a grrrrrrreat stress buster.    For both of us.

Just in time for her Birthday!

Well, hallelujah and pass the bubble bath!  Hadley got her cast removed today and can finally take a bath or shower.  To distract her during the electric saw part (blue gloved hands), which is a tad freaky even if it isn't your leg--trust me, I know this from experience--they blew bubbles, hence the delight on her face.  Notice the assistance of her daddy--those two are just inseparable and just slays me to see him so whipped by something in such a small, but admittedly adorable, package.  She has the exact same effect on me.  As does her older brother and their baby sister.  How does God make stuff so cute?

Huh?

Maybe I just don't get it.  I cannot understand for the life of me why anyone would shell out $200 per ticket, to stand near the stadium but not in it, for the Super Bowl.  And here's an even bigger perk....you get to watch the game on large video screens--outside.  And, you receive a souvenir program and scarf.   Whaaaat?? Clearly anyone who does that is just a Super Bowl wanna be with too much money and absolutely no sense.

Tell ya what....you can pay me $200 per person and come stand in my backyard and watch the game through the den door.  It'll be really exclusive--just you and any other nimrod who is dumb enough to do it.  If you are lucky, Sis might make a half time appearance--no promises--she hasn't signed her contract yet.

The Enemy

It was a rootin', tootin' weekend, with Brian and pals at the Ranch, and two less Does to worry about procreating.  They may have shot some hogs, too--not sure.  They'll pretty much shoot anything they decide needs shooting--hog, coyote, etc.  And speaking of shooting, this morning I saw something moving on the driveway by our alley, and at first glance, thought it was either two really big cats or two dogs.  Uh, noooo.  It was two enormous raccoons, walking down the alley like they owned the place.

  For a nano second, I considered letting Sis out to chase them but then remembered 1) a car might hit her zooming down the alley and 2) raccoons are meaner than a snake and she was already outnumbered.  I knew the pellet gun wasn't going to do anything but sting them, assuming I could even hit them, but then I remembered Fred's out of pellets and, I don't even know how to load it.  Well, yes, that is a problem.  Hand me an old bolt action or automatic 22, and I could have done some damage (probably to cars and windows)--and would probably have ended up calling Fred to come get me out of the UP jail, but that would be another story. Plus, by this point, those raccoons were probably over by North Park, waiting for the stores to open. 

On another note, Sis seems to have adjusted to the "loneliness of onlyness", though trash cans and the desire to shred, still tempt her.  With the weather a tad bit warmer lately, she and I can take a nice long walk that tends to blunt that desire of hers to plunder.  Just being outside and keeping her busy takes care of  99% of the problem.  She may be a wiener but she's a hunting wiener and when she gets antsy, she's gonna get in trouble.

And, lastly, if you haven't seen The King's Speech, by all means go see it.  We went yesterday and it is fan-tab-u-lous.  Collin Firth and Jeffery Rush are both amazing and you will laugh your tail off.  If you need a great novel to read, get Cutting for Stone and prepare for a wild ride.  I will be starting Ken Follet's Fall of Giants today, so I may go underground when it really grabs me.  Once it does, I'm a goner and this thing is l-o-n-g.  Just like I like them.

We caved

Well, damn...I hope this makes you ultimately laugh as hard as it did me and my siblings.  My mother may have dementia, but she can still outfox me when she wants to...holy cow.  I called her this morning and told her no church today since it was wet and cold, and since she'd just fallen and conked her head Thursday.  She said "OK".  OK my eye.  Little did I know but she called her friend, told her she wanted to go, and off she went!!!  And then, went on to lunch, too!! 

After kibitzing with my siblings, we thought we were on the right path to keep mom safe.  That is until her friend shot some artillery in our direction that, frankly, made great sense.  Her friend said "Look...this is NOT too much for me.  Let me do this because I enjoy it-- and your mother does, too.  Don't take this away from both of us just because you are afraid she may fall.  She may fall--no question--but does it really matter where she falls??  If she's at church or at the Country Club, we can call 911 just like the Plaza can and she loves to get out. It's really mean of you all not to let her do this".  I acknowledged it FELT mean-- but I just wasn't sure what the best thing to do was yet.

And then the tears turned on and I really did know.  I finally lost it on the phone....to think that the last of mom's friends who she even sees anymore, would go to bat for her like that, was just humbling.  I cried..... and told Mrs. Lide how much I loved her and appreciated her, and what an incredible friend she was to mom.  I also made her SWEAR that when it gets to be too much, she'll tell me, and she promised she would.  I told her we were just so scared we weren't doing "the right thing" for mom by not "protecting her"--like we can actually really do that anyway.  We can't.  So, score one for the old ladies team.  Man...they are some strong medicine.  And wise, too.

I hate this

My sister and I have just made yet another heart wrenching decision and I have a call into my brother for his feedback.  I doubt he will disagree with us--- I'd just like for him to have the opportunity to weigh in also.  I've recounted here mom's disastrous trips to church with my brother, and with a friend about mom's same age and then their trips to the Country Club for lunch--- which mom adores.  Yep....you know where I'm going here, don't you?  Yes, we could hire someone to physically take mom--that's not the issue.  The issue is, mom's continued falling--no one can prevent that--not even me, and I tried like hell.  When she fell with me, it happened so fast I couldn't do anything... she went down like a sack of wet cement.  Even in a wheelchair, mom still has to get in and out of a car, and that seems to be the hardest part.  Plus, my sister and I also know, once mom gets into a wheel chair--she's not coming out. That will be it. 

The worst part is, having to pull the plug on something mom loves, but is unsafe to continue any longer.  I feel like a black DOG doing this to her, but it's either this, or she breaks a hip at church or at lunch.  Hell....she may break her hip anyway, but the thought of doing it out somewhere, vs at home where help is instantaneous, just seems prudent and wise.  And mean as hell.  I hate this.  And so does my sister.  And, I'm quite sure my brother does, too.  Since he's in Ft. Worth at a seminar and will be here with her tonight, I guess we can all play the heavy together. It helps to share the responsibility. It lightens to load.

I know this may sound horrible but I'm going to admit it here anyway since God already knows how I feel --we've discussed this at length, and we talk about it daily in my prayers.  I ask Him all the time to please take mom sooner rather than later, if it's His will.  I only want His will--since it's perfect--but I am also just selfish enough to want to stop hurting, for me.  There.  I said it.  And I hope it doesn't shock anyone but if it does, it does. I'm at a place in my life where if someone doesn't agree with me, that's OK.  I don't care anymore about anybody else's opinion, except God's.
That's just how I see it.

Little Miss Starbucks

As Diva's go, this one has got it down.  Her mom sent me this shot the other day after they made a Starbucks run.  It seems Hadley was all about having her chocolate milk in a cup just like her mom's, and wanted to sit outside and eat her cheese and apples, while she people watched in the HP village.  Never mind it was freezing outside.  And it was.

  Since she has a birthday coming on the 22nd, my mission is either to find something Princessy or, something Had doesn't already have, and that might not be easy.  When I went by the other day to play, she picked up the head band with the flowers and flowing ribbons I'd given her last year (along with a magic wand that casts spells & makes noise) and told me"You gave me this".  Please.  She's not even three and she remembers that?  C'mon.  While I was there, Hudson put on one of his Super Hero costumes, and was carrying a lunchbox full of very important top secret items.  Maybe it was his briefcase.  I dunno....but it was hilarious nonetheless.  Hud's growing so fast, he's almost outgrown the costume he choose, since it was about to saw him in half, if you know what I mean.  Little children just gas me.....they are so funny.

Glad that's over

As days go, yesterday is one I'm glad is over.  I was in Sam's with a full cart when my phone rang and it seems mom's and my luck ran out, at exactly the same time.  She had fallen in her bathroom and this time she didn't bounce.  She connected with something nice and resistant and got a nice head laceration for her efforts.  The Paramedics had already been called so I did the unthinkable--I left my cart (no perishables) and walked out the door of Sam's. When I arrived, Mom didn't want to ride in the ambulance to Presby ER--major overkill--so I took her.

My mother is never funnier than in a calamity.  When I pulled out her heaviest coat to put on she told me and the Paramedics "I don't need that", to which we all rolled our eyes.  We talked her into it and when she hit the front door of the Plaza, and a big cold blast of air hit her, she let out a whoop that cracked up everyone within ear shot.  I bet she hadn't been outside in two weeks and she was mighty glad to have that coat--even in the ER.  After her CT scan she came back with two warm blankets hot out of the warmer, all wrapped up looking like an mummy.  All you could see was her eyes, and she was fine with that.

As luck would have it, the ER physician that treated mom ,(Dr. Fleming), just happened to know one of my niece's who had been a scribe in the ER, prior to starting Medical School.  I called her and put her on speaker phone and we all chatted, as mom got sewn up.  Hey....might as well have fun.  Mom's first suture pulled out immediately because her skin is as thin as tissue paper.  Dr. Fleming looked at me and we both just nodded.  Then as we were waiting to be discharged, I was sitting in the perfect spot to see through our cracked door, and just happened to look up.  There stood a friend of mine, who was in the ER with her terminally ill husband (cancer), in the room one down from ours.  She didn't see me so I jumped up and went and hugged her, and we just stared at each other.  If I had been sitting anywhere else in mom's room, I would not have seen her.  Coincidence??  I don't think so.  God hangs around in the ER a lot.

By the time our little ER outing was over and I made a quick store re-stocking run  for mom, she was wiped out and so was I.  While the nurses got her changed into clean clothes,  I gathered up the clothes she'd been wearing and a few towels and bath mats that looked like a murder had taken place, and ran them home to wash, and then to throw dinner together.  I knew her tile bathroom floor would be really cold without those mats so I ran them back after dinner, with her clothes.  Yes, it could have waited but....I didn't want her feet to be cold.

Growing up is hard

I swanny....you know how I told you I had cancelled the Dallas Morning News paper, and had switched over to the E-edition?  Wellllllllll.......it seems someone has yet to notify my newspaper lady because the paper is lying right out front.  Again.  Still.  Communication is tough, these days.  I guess it's nice to have both, so I'm not going to complain.  It just speaks volumes about our world today that you can't even get your paper stopped.

On a very happy note, I had a bunny sighting yesterday right around dinner time before it got dark.  I happened to be standing in the kitchen looking towards the living room's big window, when I looked across the street to my neighbors yard, and knew I saw something off white, moving.  Sis and I ran to the window and sure enough, there was that same fat off white rabbit, grazing along the flower beds.  Of all the days to escape his hutch, yesterday would not have been at the top of my list since it was a whopping 32 degrees outside, but there he was.  I don't care if he is wearing a fur coat, yesterday was just c-o-l-d.  He didn't hang around long but I am thrilled to know he's still alive and hopping.  With the recent coyote sighting and cat murder in HP, I was thinking my little friend might have been eaten by now.

I was laughing at myself yesterday.  Every year right before New Years, I am so ready for a New ear--we've discussed this before.  Then once it's here, I'm not exactly sure what to do with it.  All those ideas I have before the New Year arrives, suddenly don't seem all that mahvelous anymore.  Or, they seem to require a fearlessness & determination that suddenly isn't there anymore because something I want to do might be HARD.  Or, at least hard for me.  Or, new, and would require me to s-t-r-e-t-c-h myself....and isn't that what I'm always saying I want???  Well, yes.  Now, the job for me is to feel the fear-- and do it anyway.  Stay tuned.

Oh, No, you didn't , Sister!

Do I even need to say anything else?????  A certain someone is now serving time, by herself, in the kitchen.  And the war continues...

Yes, I believe I shall...

After copious thought, here's my latest idea.  I am going to get up at whatever time necessary to see the Royal Wedding, live from London in April, and I'm going to lay myself a tea tray the night before, so I can have tea, at some point, during the day.  It's all going to be veddy, veddy English, and I may just make scones to have also.  If  I'm getting up at 5am or so, tea's NOT gonna cut it first thing --- I'll be needing some Starbucks--- so maybe I'll have High tea later in the afternoon.  I did this before when William's parents got married, and I was seven months pregnant with Brian, so I'm going to do it again.  Considering how that relationship turned out, though, maybe I ought not to, for their sakes.  But.........I'm gonna.  It was a total blast and a front row seat to history.  And as an "adopted" Anglophile, I just have to see it.

Since Sis is the only other gal pal around here, I may invite her.  We'll see.  If she's an enormous pill and chair hog, I may not.  We'll see if her manners improve over the next few months.  At least I can depend on her not to talk thorough the whole thing, unlike some other people around here.

  As I remember, I waited to shower until Will's parents were officially married and clip clopping along back to Buckingham Palace, so I wouldn't miss anything of significance on TV.  That damn carriage ride lasted so long I could have washed my car, but whatever.  Benefits to watching on TV: As I remember, bathroom breaks were a snap, no crowds to deal with, zero expense--no plane tickets or hotel reservations, and no security craziness.  Downside:  Zero.
Yep.  It's on my calendar.

Autism

First they said it was caused by vaccines.  Some think it's genetic.  Now, according to a recent post, it's thought to be caused by closely spaced pregnancies.  Seriously, why don't they just come out and admit that they really just do not know what causes Autism, yet, and then get on with the business of studying it further?  I don't get why we have to scare the living hell out of parents, when we really don't know the answer.  Until we unequivocally have the answer, if we ever do, why not just concentrate our efforts in a positive direction?  Answer:  Because on some level, people like to have the pee waddly doo scared out of them and then they like to turn around and play the "blame game".  Admit it.  We all rubber neck on the highway when we pass a bad wreck, we read the worst stories in the paper, first, and then we TALK about them to other people.  Yeah, we do.  Boy, if that's not concentrating on the negative, I don't know what is.  We all like to sit back and armchair quarterback about how we'd have done it better, smarter, bigger, etc., and you can look for me at the front of that line.  I am as guilty as they come.

I think for 2011, I'd like to cultivate the "I don't know nuttin' and I have no opinion" type stance (humility), since to do otherwise makes me critical and judgmental about something I really don't know squat about.  And I'm finding, the older I get, the less I really know anyway.

Sis update

The chili for dinner is made and the oatmeal cookies Fred was hinting about are done also.  Sometimes you just have to have a few little naughty things around when it's cold and bleak outside.  I also made us some refritos to have with chips.  The funny part is the can says No Fat, which Ms. Maria and I decided really means No Fun.  Now, I haven't added any really bad stuff to the beans, but I have "doctored" on them a bit.  Geese..... when it says no fat, you pretty much have to.

It's been a week since Wig left and Sis is beginning to show signs that she really gets it.  Yesterday when she thought she as here all alone, she started howl talking, and it sounded pretty plaintive in tone.  She didn't know I was in the back, so when I hollered to her, she came flying, relieved not to be all alone.  Then a few minutes ago as I was putting away clothes, she went over to Wig's dog bed I moved in our room, sniffed around on it and then started that low, sad whine of hers.  Oh, man... so sad....  And now she follows me everywhere.  She's right underneath me in the donut bed and just doesn't seem as carefree as she was when he was alive.  Grief will definitely let the air out of your tires.
Now, she waits sitting up like a person in the den chairs, until I come home.  Or, she goes and sits by the door and looks out the window.  She still plays some with her toys but only seems really happy when you know who gets home from the office.  Don't tell him I said that....he already thinks he's a big enough cheese as it is.  I think this is just going to be one of those "give time, time" kind of things since there's no statue of limitations on grief.  I just hope I don't have to find her a therapist.

Poor Lady....

Days like this make me worry about animals left outside with little or no shelter.  In the rain.  And, did I mention it's cold?  People that do things like that ought to be shot.  I'm serious.  That's just exponential ignorance.  Now, I realize not everyone has dogs that are rotten stinkin' spoiled like mine--I get that--but if you are going to mistreat your animals, there's gonna be a special place in Hell reserved for you, let me just tell ya.  And you aren't gonna like it so just don't do it.

Anywho, yesterday, as we were leaving the Farm, we stopped by Rodney's house (farm caretaker), to tell him something, and he and his parents and uncle were building, Lady, his bull mastiff, a dog house out of scrap lumber. You should have seen this thing....OMG.  If I could have figured out a way to take a picture of it to post here, just know I would have.   And, they weren't even finished with it yet.  One side had a skid--like they stack stuff on at Sam's--that a forklift can lift and move around.  Now, before I go all critical, that could have been the bottom side, to raise the house slightly off the ground....I dunno...but the other sides were pieces of scrap lumber, and just not suitable for Lady, IMO.  And did I mention they were all sipping, unobtrusively, on cans of beer, as they built???  And Rodney's mom was sporting a leopard hat???  Are ya gettin' the picture???

Frankly, I couldn't wait to jump out of the car and meet everyone, although I'd met Rodney's uncle before.  I swear to heaven if they'd had a smoker goin', Fred would have had to drag me back to the car.  When I saw what Lady was probably going to have to call home, I offered Rodney a big old fluffy, but lumpy, fiber bed, to cush & warm up the interior.  Suddenly, 4 heads turned towards me, incredulously, as if I had lost my mind.  In unison, they all said "For Lady"??  And when I said "Yeah!", they all laughed.  I'm still going to take it up there next time I go, but I'm not thinking Lady is going to get to use it.  Crud.

Now, this would work....

Is it soup, yet?

While the rest of the world focuses on unexplainable horrors today, I'm going in the opposite direction.  More horror we don't need.  This morning, I looked out out our kitchen window to see my least favorite birds, Grackles, eating all the skanky pita chips I'd thrown out.... for.... my.... sparrows.  The young grackles in training were all wet and miserable looking--major droopy feathers that looked like wet clothes--- but pretty smart, as they crouched together on the gutter drains, out of the rain.  The more adult birds seemed impervious to the rain, and just kept eating.  Grackles must be pretty rough birds since I didn't see even one of my scrappy little sparrows.  Rats.
Then Sis and I came in here to blog, and got into my chair, together.  No sooner had I opened the shutters for her to look out, did we spot two squirrels, and one of them was brilliant, in my book.  While he ate his acorn sitting on a knob of our tree, some what out of the rain, he used his fluffy tail as an umbrella, with his tail draped over his head.  No wonder there are so damn many squirrels.  They never die of pneumonia.

Yesterday, I tried a new recipe from a cookbook Benji gave me for Christmas.  It was a Sherried Tomato Soup, minus the sherry, 'cause I didn't have any.  I put in a splash of cooking sherry since that's all I had, but it sure tasted good to me.  I guess so, since it has a cup and a half of heavy cream, butter, diced onions, fresh basil cut in chiffonade (little skinny strings), and lots of fresh, ground cracked pepper.  And, let's not forget good tomatoes.  Oh, man.
  When Fred gets back I'm going to see if he'll run some over to Mary for her lunch with some good sourdough bread I may doll up, depending on what I have.  A Gouda grilled cheese panini would kill with it so maybe I'll send that, just for kicks.  Homemade tomato soup and a grilled cheese panini on a wet, cold, Sunday.....dang.... that's a no brainer.

More toys

In my latest go green endeavor, I switched us over from the Dallas Morning News actual paper, to the e-edition on line.  Let me just tell ya, this was no easy feat considering the first person I got at the News didn't actually know how to perform that maneuver.  She could sure tell me how to have both--she just couldn't quite figure out how to cancel the actual paper, thereby making less money for the DMN.  Luckily, we got disconnected and when I called the toll free number, as a means of trying something different, I got a lovely, knowledgeable young guy who did it all for me.  He said it was complicated and since the website doesn't offer the option of dropping your paper subscription, he had to do a little computer massage to get it done.  He waited while I logged on to be sure everything worked, before signing off.  This guy was so neat he even gave me his name and told me when he works, if I ran into any problems.  Wow.  Some one's been swimming in Customer Service again.  Yahoo.

Today's plan was to head for the Farm and spend the night, taking the bad Sis girl on her first trip by herself.  Now, since the weather may be a little crummy Sunday, we may just make a run up there but come home and spend the night here.  I have a bunch of cleaning stuff that needs to get dropped off so we'll just see what Fred wants to do.  He's just driving in the driveway from returning all dog food we bought for Wigman last Sunday.  Geee...timing is everything.
OMG.....he just walked in with two toys for the grieving gal.  The pink and white rope twisty one is steak flavored, and the tangerine colored one is called a Bobo, and is Sis's MOST favorite toy, other than her squirrels.  Notice the green Santa Bobo she got for Christmas on the far left.  She's already chewed off his Santa hat, has pulled about half of the stuffing out of him, and taken him out her doggie door to beat him up some more in the backyard.  Poor guy.  Fred even sewed the head closed, to buy him more time.  I kid you not.  I saw it with my own eyes. Now his ear is torn off.  Guess he'll be heading back to surgery....

Girls, girls, girls

I wanted to include a pic of Hadley and her new purple cast.  It was time for the pink one to come off and this new model does not have a small bend in it behind the knee--it's more straight-- so her mom said she walks like she has a wooden leg--she has to throw her leg out in front of her to walk.  That said, she only has to wear it for two more weeks and she's a done deal.  Woo hoo!!  Let's hear it for Mother Nature making kids heal sooo fast.  Her mom said this pic was made at Short Stop, a local favorite lunch spot.  It seems Had wanted everyone in the place to notice her, so she proceeded to bark like her dog, Finley, until everyone did.  Her mom said Hadley also had just had her fingers and toes painted a lovely purply red, so that may explain the barking, as she was over the top excited.  Hilarious, no??

On another note, a certain black four legged girl had a snit fit yesterday, when I left her alone for about an our and a half, close to dinner time.  She'd been fed but so what....she was still pissed, so she did exactly what other dachshund's I've known in the past have done--she retaliated.  She went back into our bedroom, and dragged trash out of the trash can and proceeded to tear it up and spread it all over.  But it's where she spread it all that's noteworthy.  It was all on my side of the floor, right below our bed.  Any questions as to who she was furious at?  I don't think so. 

And once again, Fred's the good guy. 

Semi gardening

I just returned from walking with my new Ipod--- and SINGING.  Loud.  Real loud. And I think the only people who could have heard me were yardmen, with ear plugs and leaf blowers, and since no one died, they probably didn't hear me.  While Benji was here for Christmas, I got him to load 5 of Scarletta's songs that they've recorded so far, and I have to say, they are sensational--- and not because he's my kid.  It's mostly Aubrey (girl) singing, with him doing the back ups, but just you wait....your gonna see and hear them at the Grammy's when they win everything, and then you're gonna say "I know his momma...", to anybody who will listen.  You are...you know you are.   And for any Followers, I will sign autographs. 

When I got back from my walk, old Sis was howl-talking and may have been lonely, so we went for another short walk, up to the garden, which bring me to this:  I think we'll keep our plot this year unless someone else really wants it, and we may just have a "let's see what comes up" plot.  Think of it as, Plot du jour.

I broadcast a bunch of basil seeds and flower seeds from the dried pods still in the ground, so now all I have to do is add water and voila'--maybe sumpin', maybe nuthin'.  For a nano second this morning, I briefly considered replacing the old soil with a big truck load of new, and then quickly returned to sanity.  Even the guys that did that eventually got soil blight, so I'm liking my new "whatever" approach, more and more.  If I want to plant something, I can--if not, no biggie.  And I always have Mrs. Lemley and Betty in my back pocket, for tomatoes, baby new potatoes, "squish", and peaches.  Now that's gardening, folks.

This and that

Criminy!!  I am currently in the middle of "Attack of the Yardmen" with leaf blowers going in all directions!!  The good news is, it never takes them longer than about 15 minutes but, wow, is it LOUD!  Then across the street, my neighbors have an Atlas moving van that looks like a double vs just a regular moving van.  I've never seen one so big.  And the funny part is, they are moving over one block, and down a few.  It's not like they are going cross country, but I guess stuff is still stuff,  and their house is really big.  It seems their two kids wanted to move "closer in" in the Bubble (Park Cities), so they can be closer to their friends, so that's what they are doing.  We will miss them and wish them well and, secretly, will not miss their yappy Sheltie. :)

Mom had a near miss with disaster yesterday as it was Hair Hut day, and I couldn't get a hold of anyone to remind them to walk her over to the Edgemere Salon, and since she had missed her appointment last Friday (the nurses forgot to take her), she was definitely not looking her best.  Think week old, slept on cotton candy, with a slosh of Wesson oil, for hair, and that's pretty much how she was looking, so it was especially important that she got there yesterday.  I finally called mom and told her to grab her pink Cadillac (walker), mosey up to the Concierge desk, and see if she could find anyone to call one of the nurses, and I'd keep phoning.  She must have really  wanted to go because she got right up, took off, and by the time I could connect with someone at the front desk, she was almost to the Salon.  Damn, she's funny and it just goes to show me she really can move, when she wants to!

My brother will be in a town for a few days starting this Sunday, and will stay in one of the guest rooms at the Plaza, and eat with mom.  I know that'll rock her socks off so yahoo on that.  I told mom about Wigman on Monday, before he was actually gone, and while she may not always understand a lot of things, she understood this, and fell apart when I cried.  She and Wig were total LOVE and she was one of his really favorite people.  I'm so glad she saw him Christmas Eve afternoon, when we all went by, even if he did tinkle on her carpet.  Hey...it was rainy...... and he never did do rain, even when we stopped for that purpose, before going in.  She never even knew he did, and I got it all dabbed up, so I'm calling that his little "parting gift" to her.  A small remembrance, if you will.

All Hail the Queen

I'm limping, emotionally, but I'm back.  And thank you to all of you for your kind thoughts and words for the Wigman.  He was just the best and that's all there is to it.  Sis and I are forging a new relationship based on on our shared girlness (ok...maybe old ladyness) and we are supporting each other as best we know how.  This is uncharted turf and since we haven't been here before, we are just taking it a little at a time.

Monday night, after we got home from the Vet, I think I mentioned earlier I'd seen her sniffing Wig's red fleece blanket on the floor in the Utility room.  When I saw her, I told her "he's gone" and it was almost like she understood, or so I thought.  Later, I went looking for her and she was in her dog bed, all alone, with her two front paws together and her head down.  Damn...she looked like she was praying so I decided we needed a little "girl talk" and togetherness.  I figured we could comfort each other so I crawled across the empty dog bed of Wig's, and proceeded to half lie down beside her, and that's when I figured it out.  That bad girl wasn't praying or even sad--she was hiding the twisty from a loaf of bread, between her paws, and didn't want me to take it away from her!!  When I finally wrestled it away from her, she screech yipped at me saying "You bit**...........I'd bite you if I didn't already know you'd kill me".  Yep.  That's Sister all right, which just goes to show ya, there's a good laugh in just about everything.  That witch.

Today I'm closed

Today I am off on Bereavement leave and will return in a day or so or whenever I get myself out of neutral.

Goodbye, Wigman

 Wig left the planet like the elderly gentleman he was....with barely a whimper.  He was surrounded by Brian & Fred, with me holding him wrapped in his red fleece for that extra touch--his own smell and Sister's.  To say that we are all basket cases is fair but we explode in bouts of laughter also.  It's too soon to tell about how Sis is going to react though we did just see her in the Utility Room, sniffing Wig's red blanket.  Ouch. 

Benji knows Wiggins is gone but didn't answer his phone just now.  I left him a voice mail about how Wig went out like the perfect man dog he always was--with dignity and grace.  We should all be so lucky.  And so loved.

Love HURTS

My denial ability ranks right up there with the best of them but there's one thing I can no longer deny.  It's time for Wigman, Wiggins Piggins Po, Mr. Pigglesworth, to catch the Dogtown Train and he has a ticket today on the 5:45pm train.  You all know I've been struggling with this as have my sons, and Fred, but it's just time and maybe even past time.  It occurred to me today around lunchtime that perhaps all this whining and moaning was really a "Hey, May....I'm not so happy here and could you give me a lift to the train Depo" vs just old man dog stuff.  Over the last few weeks and months, he's become more and more my shadow but today is different....he's in the dog bed in the den and Sis is with him, as if they are saying goodbye.  She is going to mourn like crazy without him, since she doesn't know life any other way.  And frankly, after sixteen and a half years with him, I don't know how to do life without him.  But I will, though there will definitely be an enormous gaping hole in my life where his little brown suit used to be, and a hole in my heart you could fly a jet through.

The toughest part about this for me is, Wiggles has gotten me through so much crap and knows all my secrets, and hasn't blabbed a single one.  He's Mr. Trustworthy.  Mr. Supportive.  Mr. Love Dog.  And he knows I love him more than chocolate ---even more than sugar--because I've told him.  I've already cried three times today and know I have lots more in there to go but I also have a firm resolve that it's the right thing, especially after my coffee break with AB, Bruce's cousin.  There's just nothing in this world any better than having your feelings validated by someone who really gets it, and cries along with you in Starbucks.  

So with that, I'll close and spend what time I have left with my extraordinary man-dog I have had the privilege to know and love, for the past sixteen years.  Man, I'm gonna miss him....

Ahhhh, winter

I just threw several more tree branch logs on the fire in the den and now it's really back in business.  To me, that's the ultimate in recycling--burning your own tree limbs.  They are the perfect size for either the fireplace or fire pit--another big bonus--and easy to toss on for pyro's like me.  Ahhh, the crackle of a fire and smell of wood smoke.  Heeeeaven.

It occurred to me this morning that Wig has taught Sister to talk.  She's always been a howl talker-- but only then.   Now she talks a lot, and frankly, I don't like it.  It's a whiny, girly, drama filled tone that's heavy on the poor me....... That "I neeeeeed something" tone, that's like finger nails on a black board sometimes.  Wig has always talked man-talk.  Short, sweet, deliberate, and to the point, and usually did it, or used to, with all of his handsomeness right there in your face.  Ears pricked up, chest out, knowing he was irresistible and that merely to ask, was to receive.  True, that.
  Sis is more assertive, as only a busty, chunky German fraulein would be.  Throw in a big old helping of manipulation, and that's Sis.  I love Wig's directness--no games, no drama--just give him what he wants and he's fine.  If he wants in on the driveway side, he barks.  By now, I thought Sis would have learned this from him, but I've only heard her do it once, when he wasn't with her.  Instead, she just stands around waiting until she either gets distracted and leaves to go hunt, or you come and notice she's waiting.  Sis is very direct around food, but has a girly stealth and sneakiness that I just don't pick up on in Wig.  Maybe his stealth is just too old to make an appearance any more. 

It's weird, too.  The more I see him winding down, the more I see her neediness ramping up.  It's like she knows what's coming and just feels anxious and needs reassurance that everything will be OK, even when he's gone.  Part of her seems to want to be Queen and ascend his throne, and the other part just wants him to hang around, maintain the status quo, and just let her do her thang.

Bad news, Sis.  Change is inevitable

Brene Brown: The power of vulnerability | Video on TED.com

Brene Brown: The power of vulnerability | Video on TED.com

If you haven't heard this, it's the best 20 minutes you'll spend this year.  Give it a listen and tell me what you think.  She's hilarious and extremely insightful.  Hope you enjoy.  I did!

The Right way to start 2011

I am about to have a cow.  One of Fred's friends just posted pictures of his smoker loaded with three different kinds of ribs he's smoking, cheese he's already smoked for a spread that that will kill you, and his turkey is going on at noon.  Whaaaat?  All that cooking going on and I'm not there to apprentice it?  I can hardly stand myself.  This guy is the BBQ king and was pictured in the paper recently after a BBQ crawl  through Dallas and the surrounding area, with his fellow critiquers.  I know he's done several, and they usually go to at least 5-7 BBQ joints.  To look at him, you'd never know he's a fabulous cook.  He's just NOT a big old Bubba type.  He's in advertising and very artsy, as is his wife, who is a food stylist.  And did I mention he's funny?  He's hilarious.

I think the thing that impresses me the  most is that he actually cooks himself.  Anybody can armchair quarterback and if his jalapeno cheese spread is any indication of what his ribs might be like, or even his turkey, sign me up. Now that's the way to start 2011.