Dallas Quakes

The Earth moved over here last night and, no, I'm not talking about that.  I'm talking about that 3.4 earth quake we had right around 11 pm.  I was lying in bed and usually I would have been asleep by then but I was awake, when suddenly I heard a low rumble and then felt a shake.  It lasted for a couple of seconds,too, and then there was like a mini-aftershock right behind it.  Dallas, Texas and an earthquake....well, I'll be.

Let me know if anybody else felt it, too, because the DMN said it was located in Irving but I knew exactly what it was when I felt it here.  There's a write up about it on page two of the front section of the paper.  I had forgotten about it until I saw that, since I also had a nightmare last night.

I think nightmares suck and adults and kids should not have to have them, period.  This is another place for further brain research because the one last night involved Benji, and scared me so bad I can still see the picture in my mind, even though I've tried the White-Out trick on it.  Brian was in it, too, but he was OK--Benji wasn't--and that's all I'm going to say.  Awful.  I want to stamp out nightmares in my life time and surely some brainiac at Southwestern Medical School can come up with a protocol to eliminate them.  Total waste of energy and besides, I hate being scared.  Some people like that adrenalin rush--not me--noooo.  I don't care why we have them, psychologically.  I just don't wanna.  Case closed.

Enjoy this rainy rest of the day.  I'll be cooking and hanging out doing chores and puttering.  Perfect Sunday.

Eat and Sleep

Today I want to talk about self care and what I'm learning about it.  Yes, we all know it's our job to take care of ourselves, but how many of us actually do it?  Do you make eating nutritious food a priority or do you indulge more often than not in fast food that you tell yourself is "quicker"?  At 58, this old bod of mine just won't run on that nasty stuff for very long.  Sure it's an occasional thing but if I pay attention, my body will tell me what to eat because I'll crave it.  Salad, vegetables, lean protein are all right on the top of the list (along with french fries-- I admit it).  I'm not gonna lie here.

And rest.  Do you take time out to lie down when you are tired or do you stoke up on caffeine and try to pop your clutch, when it's already burned out?  Again, maybe it's a function of age but I just can't do that anymore and when I over coffee in the afternoon after meeting with a friend, I'll pay for it that night when I'm staring at the ceiling.  If I forget to go decaf, honey, I'm in a world of hurt.  I realize a nap isn't on everyone's radar, especially at the office, but you can take a fifteen minute break (by law you get two per eight hours worked) and go sit outside.  Just taking a break from the frenzy will put juice back in your tank.  I'm a big meditator but sometimes people think your asleep which I have to say isn't all bad.  If they get all "whad are you doin??'" on you, when you say meditating, they'll immediately take a step back from you like you're radio active.  Don't ask me how I know this--and it's fun-- as long as you don't actually fall asleep.  Which brings me to chronic exhaustion.

Yeah, I know we are all supposed to exercise but we are also supposed to SLEEP--especially if you are a single mom.  If you are, find a friend and do a swap off of your kids.  She takes them for two hours (or   longer) on the weekend while you sleep, then the next day, she gets to rest.  No, you don't get to run laundry, go shopping, etc.  You have to get in your bed and lie there.  It may or may not take you longer than five seconds to fall asleep, but you will.  Chronic exhaustion causes your body to release loads of stress hormones and if you don't get enough rest, and turn off the switch, you simply get fatter and fatter--especially around the middle--which is a no-no for women who want to avoid heart disease.

Most of us are so used to running on empty, we have no clue how exhausted we really are, and if you do know, your w-a-y- past exhausted. Yesterday, I took a personal day and just cancelled everything I had on my calendar, and guess what?  Nobody died.  I showered, put on my favorite scrubs, and crawled back into bed.  It helped, but what really helped was watching TV last night, and then sleeping again overnight.  By the time I got up this morning, I could have fought a bear.  I'm feeling downright feisty.

I think we're all "Yes, but......" types at heart.  None of us really want to stop running, and we keep at it until we either get sick (dis-ease) (do you get it?) or drop in our tracks--some of us permanently.  Me?  I'd rather just crawl in bed.  It's just easier and a whole lot better idea.  

Dramarama

Time to tie up loose ends.  I've finally come to a resolution with the Plaza to allow mom to wear a DNR ( do not resuscitate) bracelet.  I'm going to purchase it and put it on her myself, so they are not in violation of any HIPPA rules and regs.  Seriously, could we not have come to this solution earlier and the most obvious answer is NO.  After lots of research on my part, and probably on theirs as well, it's clear to me that a lot of entities truly do not completely understand the HIPPA rules and regs, so they just throw out a blanket NOOOO to protect themselves, until pushed, and push I did.  Once I have the exact wording verified by the website I'm ordering the bracelet from, and it arrives, it's going on mom, and I'm going to let it go.  There's nothing more I can do.

I laughingly sent my sister an email update this morning saying after all this drama, mom will probably die peacefully in her sleep, and someday I'll look back on this and howl.  I'm not thinking it will be anytime soon, though.  This one cut a little too close for me.  The thought of paramedics being called, her not having a designated bracelet on, and them banging on her chest, is just not the least bit funny to me right now.  Nope.  Not at all.

And speaking of mom, I went by to see her yesterday on my way home from having coffee with my SIL (sister-in-law), Margie.   (We meet for coffee occasionally to stay in touch with each other and laugh because she's hilarious.)   Anywho, mom was still in bed from her nap so I climbed up on the bed with her.  That's kind of my thing these days so I can be close to her.  I was filling her in on all kinds of stuff including how hot it was outside.  When I told her I wasn't cooking dinner because it was just too damn hot, she hooted out laughing and said "You're just like me...I'm not cooking either".   Then she told me "This is a really nice club...the food's good" and I almost fell off the bed.  Believe it or not, sometimes there really is a funny side of Alzheimer's.  I never know what she's going to say next. 

Happy weekend to all.

Ahhhh, gravel.....

Is is just me or does it seem like everyday you read about another gal who has had--and still has-- an eating disorder?  I say still has simply because the disease can be under control but is never truly "cured".  So much of it has to stem from the unbelievable pressure on women (and men) to fit some stereotypical "thin is beautiful" idea that's been foisted upon us no matter where you turn.  Has it always been this way and due to today's technology we hear about it more often?  Are more women today getting honest and admitting their illness than ever before?  It's clearly not going away and if you've been to a gym recently you've seen it up close and personal, or at least I sure have. 

I wonder if gyms can even address this with a policy around people who are clearly ill, working out?  I'm thinking not.  I guess all they can do is call 911 when someone drops off the elliptical.  I've seen a couple of gals in recent past who just scared the liver out of me.  Yes, they could be suffering from something else entirely, but either way, the nurse in me can't help but notice.  Totally my issue, I recognize and admit.  Just makes my heart hurt for them, though.  What a lousy disease.

This morning I'm in heaven listening to the sound of gravel being scooped with a shovel on my neighbor's driveway.  There's a huge pile that was just dumped, and there's something about the scrape and dump sound that I just love.  Someday I want to have a little French or Italian patio--all gravel-- so I can hear the crunch when I walk on it.  And speaking of that, I woke up this morning with a really bad hankering to go to Europe.  It's been exactly a year and my internal Europe meter is cranking to go back.  This time, I'd really like to go to Belgium and Holland and see the tulips.  Knowing Fred, he will see this, roll his eyes, and come home and hand me the Rick Steves DVD.  He will think he's hilarious and laugh like a hyena.  That's OK.  All that will do is help me figure out exactly which cities I want to visit and whether I want to do a land trip, or a river cruise.  By the time I get the trip planned, he'll want to go.  He always does.                                                        

The downside of medical technology

This morning I am in a bit of a snit over something that started yesterday.  I ran into a friend and she asked about mom.  When I told her about mom, she told me to get a DNR (do not resuscitate) bracelet on mom ASAP because her mother-in-law was on Hospice at the Plaza, and was resuscitated by mistake.  Mom has a DNR on her chart and this has always been a hot button with her--if she's trying to leave, she damn sure doesn't want somebody trying to bring her back!  If she's told me this once, she's told me fifty times to just let her go, and that's my plan.  Getting the Plaza to put a bracelet on her is another story.

I understand the HIPPA laws and protecting mom's privacy.  But here's the kicker:  mom doesn't care who knows, and in fact would rather people know, than not know, so she doesn't get yanked back, while trying to exit this world.  We're so all over protecting people's privacy these days that we forget they have other rights as well.  The right to die with dignity, the right to NOT be someone else's "oops", the right to wear a bracelet or other signifying data so that they and their family can feel comforted that they've done everything possible to uphold the job they've been given in smoothing the way out of this world for a loved one, into the next.  I'm not suggesting we write DNR on mom's forehead with a black Marks-a-lot.  I'm talking about a bracelet, here, folks.

To say that I am pissed is an understatement.  I am now waiting (but not for long) for a call from the Administrator at the Plaza to hear what they are willing to do.  I will volunteer to have a legal document drawn up, signed and notarized, saying I will hold them harmless, if the do not resuscitate mom.  At this point, I have to say I don't have just worlds of fight left in me, so I'm having to pick and choose my battles.  But this one is a biggie with me.  This one I'm willing to go to. the. mat. over and I'll fight with anything and everything I've got (or can get), to see mom out of here the way she wants to go. 

Back before all the technology we have today, none of this was an issue or even a possibility.  When we were all limited to a death without technology, we still died, but at least we didn't have to worry about someone trying to snatch us back, to cover their own tail, legally.  Jeeze, louise....what a mess.

Lastly, here's what just came in a text,  Early morning, pre-school, yoga.  Avery, again, showing us her stuff.  I nearly choked on my coffee.  I don't know what I would do without those little kids...life would just not be near as much fun without them.  Just when you need a good laugh, there they are!
 

                                          

Love

Today I'm thinking about love.  Coming from a place of love is all that really matters today.  No matter what happens, today is all I have anyway.  I can't do anything about yesterday or tomorrow.  Yesterday's history and tomorrow isn't here yet.  Love will take care of ANYTHING and is the shortest, most direct route to happiness.  Today I'm going to go in love.

I got my first dose of love this morning with a tiny front yard visitor.  She was scampering around in her front yard, in her pj's, and ventured over to ours.  I heard her talking and had to go meet her.  Yes, I was in my pj's, too, coffee in hand, so it seemed like the perfect time for girl talk.  Her mom, Laura, said she thinks our red front door and theirs make it all her yard, and I told her that was just fine.  As far as I'm concerned, it is.  I told Laura to let her water, pick flowers, whatever.

 Then I told her about the little boys down the block, Tom and Hank, who used to come down and rearrange my porch, when they lived a few houses down.  Tom is high functioning autistic and especially loved my plug in Halloween light up pumpkin. Both were just adorable, and I miss them like crazy.  Hank is the one that whipped down his pants in the front yard one day and peed on our front tree, to his mother's horror.  He was only three and I thought it was just fine.  There's not a boy alive who doesn't like to pee on something, so big fat deal.  Little boys are like dogs--peeing on stuff is just part of what they do.  Since Laura is having a boy in a few weeks, this was a news flash, I could tell, and we both howled. 

Kids and animals.  What's not to love?  They both make it so easy.  Today, let's all go in love.

Painless Remodeling--on TV

You may already know all about this but if you don't, it's super fun to look at and save your favorite pictures to your own idea book.  It's call Houzz and it's a design, remodeling, home ideas site that has interesting articles and fun pictures.  I can spend an hour, easily, playing and reading and if you sign up for it, they'll email it to you.  Yep, seriously, one more design blog but I can't help it--I'm hooked.

I have almost gotten Bruce hooked on Property Brothers on cable, and once he starts watching with me, I know he's not leaving.  If you haven't seen it, it's a must.  Good looking twin brothers--one sells the Real Estate, and the other one rehabs the "fixer upper".  Stir them together and you have it.  It's not that I'm always in love with the finished product but I dare you to watch, and then not hang around to see it all done.  Ya just gotta....  And then there's Love It or List It--same general idea.  Can a remodeler/designer with a fixed budget make their current home a keeper for a family or will they choose one of the homes the real estate agent finds for them?   There's always a budget wrecker in the remodel that causes couples to melt down and that part's always hilarious, only because it's not you. 

 I think it's all that ripping out and re-doing that gets my motor running.  And these two are hard on the eyes either.

Weekend Wrap Up

It's really hard to believe it's been exactly one year since we were in Capri for Benji and Andrea's wedding.  Wow, that went quick!  Their one year anniversary is tomorrow!  I'd give anything to be back there again with the same people, having a vacay and laugh-a-thon.  That was just the most fun ever.  And now the meter is running on two other brides-to-be in our family:  Suzanne and Kelly.  Showers, parties, and in no time, two more weddings. 

Yesterday was a cook-a-thon over here.  I decided if I was making dinner for our new neighbors, I might as well cook a bunch, so I did.  Let's just say my freezer is now partially full and Brian and Mary both received some of the spaghetti, bread, and ooey-gooey bars I made.  Our neighbors also got Caesar salad with theirs, but there's just a limit as to how much lettuce I am willing to wash, dry, chill, tear, etc.  I hate making a salad more than anything, so Brian and Mary had to do their own.   I'm full service but not that full service.

 When I delivered dinner next door, Laura was sitting on the couch with her feet up, as the movers unpacked their kitchen stuff, looking like she was about to cry.  When I realized her kitchen wasn't even in, I ran back home and returned with paper plates.  With their baby due in four weeks, the couch was the perfect spot for her since I don't want to be running next door to deliver her!  Her husband, John, was outside with more movers, trying to put together the wall shelving for their den, and looking a lot like Laura--completely overwhelmed. Moving is such an all out whippin'.

And speaking of a whippin', my brother texted me the single most unflattering picture of mom, from a week ago, that almost blew my hair off.  It literally took my breath away--she looked like a little old man-- she was clearly having a bad hair day.  I've said it before and I'll say it again: that's not my mother.  While Brian was here visiting yesterday, I mentioned the picture to him.  He said he felt like he wanted to go see mom and I told him that while that was admirable and very sweet, not to put himself through it.  I could tell from the look on his face he was really sad, but I know what seeing her would do to him--and to Benji--and I simply suggested that they both remember her the way she used to be, and not the way she is now.  When Benji and Andrea were here, he wanted to see a more recent picture of her, and I wish I hadn't even shown it to him--and it wasn't a really bad one. The look on his face said it all.  When I told him not to go, he looked relieved.

They both know they can tell me to just go blow if they really do want to go see her--they are adults.  But I think they each understood I was trying to protect them from seeing something really sad and disturbing, that while totally natural, is just pretty damn awful.  I'm sure some people would disagree with my decision and that's OK. To each his own.  If you see her more often, like I do, it's a teency bit easier--but not a lot.  I just don't want them to have a horrid last mental picture of her, seared into their brain, for all eternity.  She wouldn't want it either. 

Finally, on a happier note, the munchkins are moving Friday to a duplex right off Hillcrest, so they will be even closer to me than before.  When I visit, we can walk up to the 7-ELEVEN for Slurpee's and bubblegum, and just have fun playing.  C'mon Friday!!  I can't wait!! 

Bring on the weekend

It's finally Friday and can I get an amen on that one?  This has seemed like a really long week, not sure why but I swear it's lasted a month.  The moving trucks just drove up next door for our new neighbors and they still have workmen inside their house.  Man, isn't that always the way it works?  I just spoke with Laura and John out front, and they both look exhausted but ready to settle in.  Laura is a landscape designer and has had her crew yank out all the old front bushes at their house, and plans to replant with a new plan of her design after the first of the year.  Considering she has a baby boy due really soon, that sounds like a great plan.  She is also having her crew plant some new grass on our side, where the grass took a beating due to all the construction, so that's really nice.  I can already tell they are going to be really fun to have next door. 

I think I'll have to get my pots and pans clanging this weekend and make them something to welcome them to da 'hood.  I'm thinking since they have a small fry little girl, I may make them some homemade spaghetti that can get zapped in the micro, for a hungry bunch in a hurry. Plus, for a small it's finger friendly--always a plus.

I'm listening and laughing at these movers-- not sure what company it is but the trucks are Penske rentals and these red shirt wearing guys clearly have worked together before, because they are acting like, well, guys.  They are making each other laugh, and clearly wishing both trucks would unpack themselves.  One of them just pushed a bicycle up the driveway, ringing the little bell the whole way.  Now the yard crew is resting under our trees in the front yard, taking their siesta.  Do I care??  Hell, no.  I'm not using that grass anyway so stretch out and grab yo'self a nap.  It's a gorgeous day so let's all get outside and enjoy it!!

Real Life

I had a Pecan Lady sighting yesterday for the first time since around this time last year.  Sis and I were out for an afternoon stroll and she flew in and out of her house (minus her broom) and took off in her car.  At least now I know what car she drives now so I can be aware.  She was the gal last year who was such a witch.  She lives on the corner a block over and had loads of pecans, literally, all over her yard.  Fred and I would pick up a couple on our walk with Sis, until we decided one day they were actually really good pecans.  Late on a Saturday afternoon, I rang their doorbell, her son answered, I asked if it was OK if I picked up some, he assured me it was fine and to take as much as I wanted.  (He was darling and so nice so clearly, he's adopted.)

Well, apparently his momma had other ideas because she nearly took my head off one day when I'd gone over to pick up some.  She was so outraged over me picking some that she twisted off in her own front yard, despite the fact I told her I'd asked her son and was told it was OK.  Nope.  Not good enough.  I guess I was supposed to know how she felt about her pecans, despite the fact I'd never laid eyes on her.  Anywho, since she was so ugly, we cracked and shelled the entire bag we'd picked, and took it over to her, and left it anonymously on her front porch.  I secretly hoped she'd gagged to death on one of them as payback for being so awful.  Seriously, I did.  Hey...I can only be so nice ....and from the looks of things today, she hasn't changed.  It looks like she's sportin' the same sour disposition as last year so I'll be avoiding her yard, though I might let Sis poop on her side yard as a token of my esteem. 

Neighbor Mary scared the liver out of me yesterday when her sprinklers had run all day and another neighbor asked me to use my key and be sure she was OK.  The neighbor had banged on Mary's door with no answer and couldn't tell if her car was gone.  The neighbor was frantic, and then I got scared.  I just knew I was going to find Mary on the floor somewhere with a broken hip or worse....her purse was sitting right there...her glasses were sitting on top of yesterday's paper all neat and nice...and then I suddenly wonder if I'm walking into one of those TV crime scenes, where the old lady gets it....blood everywhere...croaked old lady beaten, and left in the floor to die...all alone....  Now you're worried too, aren't ya?

Well...ah, no.  Mary was simply gone somewhere, and her sprinklers were in freak out mode.  Even when I turned them to off, they still kept running.  As I'm talking to her son on my cell phone, standing inside her garage, up drives Mary, thinking she must have left her garage door open, and then she sees me, and starts laughing.  I finally just unplugged her sprinkler's brain and filled her in on the problem.  She had no idea her sprinklers had been running for hours as they are set to cut off after a certain amount of time.  We stood outside and laughed our heads off over how insane the whole thing was.  Nothing like a little drama...

Lastly, we have the drama of Benji's car.  It seems a few days back it was making a weird grinding noise but Benji drove it anyway, not sure what the problem was.  Enter Nathan, fiddler extraordinaire, and all round car dude.  Nathan hears the noise and says let me get out and look--"drive towards me".  Suddenly Nathan is yelling "STOP!! STOP!! STOP!!  He looks at Benji's tires, that had just been shimmying like a bad pole dancer, to find all of the lug nuts are gone, except the one, locking nut, on each tire.  Someone had tried to steal all 4 of Benji's tires, gotten down to the locking lug nuts, and finally gave up.  Enter Aubrey, lead singer, who takes them to the local Chief Auto to buy more lug nuts, they get put on, case closed. 

And I wonder why I have to color my hair so often...... 
 

Oh, not CRAZY TOWN again...

Obsession.  Worry.  Rehearsing your own personal drama over and over again and getting the same results each time.  You feel freaked out.  Your feel out of control.  You feel like life is going to end.  Good news: it's not.  It just feels like it is.  Drama and obsession are not your friends.  They will take your head places you would ordinarily never go, and I'm talking to CRAZY TOWN.

In CRAZY TOWN, everything is a disaster.  Chicken Little lives there--the chicken who always said the sky was falling-- only in CRAZY TOWN it is.  Because CRAZY TOWN is in your own head.  It's an illusion, it's not real, so we awfulize it even more.  Trying to convince someone that they have options is really difficult when they are determined to stay in CRAZY TOWN vs Real Life land.  Lots and lots of people give CRAZY TOWN the power to make them miserable, even when they don't have to be.  Those people assume the worst--even before they have gathered more information and done some fact finding.  Is it possible that something could be bad news?  Sure.  And it's just as likely that the news could be much better than you've already pre-determined it WILL be.  But, not in CRAZY TOWN.  Some people call this preparing themselves for the worst.  I call it concentrating on the negative.  You really want some negative??  The best way I know of to get some is to concentrate on it, and I mean really crank on it.  Sooner or later, honey, chile, you will have yo' self some N-E-G-A-T-I-V-E-- and lots of it.  It's a scientific fact that what we concentrate on, we get more of--we actually create it for ourselves and pull it to us.

Now, I don't know about you but worrying and freaking out is kinda of like rocking in a rocking chair--it gives you something to do, but it doesn't get you any where.  If  I can't do something about a situation anyway, visiting CRAZY TOWN is definitely NOT going to improve the situation.  Yes, some things are important, certainly, but let's be real here...none of us are really all that powerful that we can impact a situation markedly one way or the other.  I know a lot of people just cannot grasp that concept.  They honestly think they can kick butt or whoop a** and get what they want.  It will work with a few things, but for most things, not so much.  Honey, chile, you just ain't that powerful.

Heading to CRAZY TOWN is a reflex for a lot of us, until we learn how to do something else.  Learning not to go there, (or just for a brief visit) is a skill.  I have to ask myself 1) how big a deal is this really? 2) will it matter in five years  3) will I LMAO over this in a year and if so, why not laugh about it now?   Remember not to feed the worry bonfire--get out the marshmallows instead.  :)

Happy Birthday, Benji

Twenty eight years ago this afternoon, at 5:09 PM, was a very special day in my life.  A certain "round faced pumpkin boy" was brought into this world, and I got to watch it happen in the mirror, during my c-section.  I had realized minutes before he was born that the baby I had thought was a girl, was not--and it's a good thing--because the little boy that popped out was very much the perfect addition to our family, and very much a boy.  No question about it.  I remember him flutter kicking when they grabbed him to deliver him, and me telling him it was all OK, and to puuuh-lease stop kicking.  Within minutes he was in my arms, eyes wide open and alert, looking at me with a " Heddo....I'm Benji" expression that just sent me over the moon.  I was officially a goner and still am to this day.  A funnier baby was never born.

I remember asking for him in Recovery so I could nurse him and in came what within minutes I realized was a hungry baby barracuda.  He almost pulled me off the gurney and that was just the beginning of a life long hysterical relationship with a son I adore.  (I am just as adoring of the other one, too.  Boys....there's just nothing like 'um.)

I remember catching Benji, as a toddler, loading one of those Oaxacan embroidered Mexican dresses of mine, into the toilet in the boys bathroom, a nano second from flushing it.  At the time, he thought flushing was the greatest invention in the world and spent hours, practising.  Any water--preferably swirling--and you could count Benji in.

I know what he did last year on his birthday and it involved water, again, but I won't go into that here.  Let's just say I hope you have a great one today,Benner!!!  I love you, Benji.

After dinner rainbow

Man, this has been one long Monday.  Considering I've been awake on and off since about 1:45AM, I'm one worn out gal.  Not sure why I was so wide eyed all night, just was.  I started to get up and do laundry about 4:30 but decided if I did, there be no chance of falling back to sleep at all so I might as well lie there.  Today has been one of those cannon ball strapped around each leg kind of days.

And, yes, I did attempt a nap this afternoon since napping is one of the things I really know how to do.  The only hitch has been the workers next door building our neighbors new car port and porch.  Probably not a good idea to ask them to be quiet, huh?  Sis got in her bed at the foot of ours, and it took her a nano second before she was out.  Me?  I took a little longer and it was just enough to give you the drags, which I already had, but that's OK.  The sun is out now and it's going to be a beautiful evening.  (Sis's back in the bed underneath my computer desk now.  She just goes from bed to bed all day long.  I should really be her.)

And speaking of her, Friday night as we packed up the car for the Farm, I nearly had a cow.  Fred had placed six...count 'em...six bags of fertilizer in the back end of his car, all lying flat.  When I mentioned that's where Sis's bed goes, he just gave me that look, and proceeded to tell me her bed was going on TOP of the six bags, and then I gave him that look.  Since the bags were filthy, he put an old blanket on top of the bags, put her bed on top of THAT, and in she went.  Never mind she thought it was heaven, and could see perfectly out of the side back windows, if he'd slammed on the brakes, Sis would have been a black scud missile, launched from the back shooting through the front.  Luckily, it didn't happen and we heard nary a peep out of her until we turned off on the road through town, and she began her "we're almost there" whine.  That girl loves the Farm every bit as much as we do.

Here's the rainbow after last night's party. 

Goodbye, Mean Green

I am just about to pee my pants laughing that it's finally happened.  After months on the launching pad, Crashman Harris finally bought himself a new car and said goodbye to Mean Green.  Now, for those not in the know, Mean Green was Brian's old truck that he's loved for more than 10 years.  He bought it brand new with his own money and he has wet-nursed that thing and watched it grow old, not unlike a parent watching a child.  That truck has stories I know about and some I don't ever want to know, and it's been a damn fine truck.  It had a custom made bumper on it that weighed more than I do, and once sent a deer sailing through the dark west Texas night, on Brian's way to the Ranch.  God bless that bumper and Mean Green, as anything smaller than that truck might not have had the same positive results.

Over the years, Brian damn near washed the paint off that truck.  He reminded me of myself, and how I take care of cars.  We are both fastidious and neat-nicks, and let's just say the other two who make up the rest of this family are anything but.  Thank God Brian got my genes for this and not his dad's.  If all three of them were pig-tracky, I just don't think I could take it.

Mean Green has hauled all kinds of things, most notably old washers and dryers that later became targets and pyrotechnic events.  Brian has moved more people than Bekins, and Mean Green would probably have been game to move lots more, but it was not to be.  A sad parting occurred yesterday in Austin and a new era begins.  Brian said he was sad for a second until the Bluetooth in his new car kicked in for a phone call.  Ahhh, that's livn'.

We'll miss you Mean Green! 

Take a whiff

I know it's early but it's my favorite thing every Fall--my first sighting of a wood truck, loaded with split logs ready to hit my wood pile.  Never mind I may not need any this year.  Just seeing a wood truck makes my hands itch for a match and a pile of logs that need burning.  The smell of wood smoke is intoxicating, and you know damn well if you are one of the unfortunates who succumbed to a phony baloney fake log fire, you're not even getting a whiff of the good stuff or the crackling sounds, the occasional pop and hiss, not to mention that whoosh when you hit the gas to light her up.  All you get is that dinky on off switch and a smidge of warmth.  Seriously, what were you thinking??  Did that salesman stick a gun to your head or what?  Convenience my fanny...have you ever cooked a s'more over your fakeo-fire?  Hell, no, you haven't, and you're not gonna. You'd have about as much luck cooking that marshmallow with a flashlight. 

I may have to drag out the fire pit tomorrow and give it a trial run.  Yes, it's early and, no, it's not chilly enough, but ask me if I care.  A fire is a fire and if you're a real pyro, or your last name is Harris, you'd already know that.  Now just tell me this doesn't get your motor running?  You know it does.

What a week!

Yesterday was kind of a blur.  By the time I got home yesterday afternoon, I realized it was too late to go to an art show that Nicole (niece) was participating in, and that I'd hoped to attend.  I called her with my regrets only to find out I could still go, so I grabbed my keys and shot out the door.  I'm looking across at the piece I found, and love it!!  Unfortunately, it was by another artist other than Nicole, but she made out just fine.  She and this particular artist were the two top sellers, so I just had to brag on her here. 

This weekend is a party at the Farm for another one of my niece's, Kelly, who is getting married in November.  Yesterday, yet another niece, Suzanne, (who is marrying the very same day as Kelly), was up at Hyer School, having lunch with Hudson, and ran in to Kelly.  OK...could you follow all that?  Kelly is a teacher's aide, and the two bride's to be got a chance to yak for a second.  Out of 365 days in a year, what are the chances they'd pick the same day to get married?  Still makes me laugh to think about it.  Fred and I plan to go up to the Farm and do some pre-party prep work (say that ten times fast) sometime this weekend, unless it's pouring. 

With the recent death of a guy Brian went to school with, Jordan Webb, I am aware of how grateful I am for my life, my husband's, and that of my children.  Jordan was the most handsome, brilliant, fabulous, young man and through no fault of his own, was born with a family history of of mental illness that kicked in with a vengeance in his late teens or early twenties.  God love him.  His funeral is this morning and my heart goes out to his family.  What a hellish ride they've been on, and despite what mental illness can make a person do, that is NOT who Jordan was.  Mental illness turns otherwise kind, fun, brilliant people into monsters that do not resemble their real selves.  When you see their actions, you are seeing the disease, not them, or who they truly are.  So, today, let's all be kind to everyone we encounter and not judge them, as none of us really know what path they are on or their circumstances.

Hugs to all and have a great weekend!

Book deodorant or perfume?

Books.  I am completely enamored.  I love to hold them and thumb their pages.  I'm a bit of a picky reader--I won't just read anything--and Beach books don't do it for me.  I want a great story.  One I get to cast in my head.  I've told you all before that if I really like a book and the main character is brunette, and I think she should be blonde, then she's just blonde as far as I'm concerned, and that's the cool thing about books.  You can do that.  A movie?  No way.  You are just stuck.

But back to books.  There just never seems to be enough time to read them all, and with new authors coming out with new books all the time, there's just always going to be that next tantalizing read to look forward to.  And the next. And then the one after that.  I think I love words the most.  I love to see how authors arrange them to create a place, person, a whole world-- and depending on the ones they use and how they arrange them, totally different worlds and thoughts are created.  Some stick with you, some don't.  Some comfort you and others scare the liver out of you.  I love that.

I have a color, fancy pants, Nook e-reader and while I enjoy it, there's something I love about the physical sense of holding a book, feeling the pages, seeing whether they are old and yellowed or brand new, and if the book smells good.  Some are stinky even when they are new, which makes me wonder why paper has to be like that...is it the paper or part of the binding process that makes it so atrocious?  I think I need to google or bing that and find out.

I'm back and I just checked.  The long and short of it is: books are organic matter and composed of all kinds of chemicals, that break down over time.  That's the Dick, Jane Sally version 'cause I'm not thinking you probably give two hoots.  But the best part is, I found out they make this, in case your book is stinky or you want that "new book" smell.  Who knew?

Let's all remember and pray

It may have been eleven years ago today, but it still shakes me up every time I think about 9-11-2001 and that morning.  I watched it happen on TV over in Maternity Admitting, which was just down the hall from my office.  Coffee cup in hand, I sat in stunned silence just watching, as that second airliner flew into the Towers.  As all Hell broke loose, all I could think about was the new little souls coming into the world down the hall in Labor and Delivery, and what a world they were entering.  Egads.  What a scary place.

I don't ever want to forget that day or the people who lost their lives.  The NYC police and firefighters, the innocent people trapped on airplanes knowing death was imminent, and who still fought on bravely to prevent a plane crashing into the White House.  Those innocent people trapped in the Towers, and those outside, and  the families of all of them.  Their sacrifices were enormous and are not to be forgotten. 

What a world we live in.  Let's all pray for the State of this world today, as we look back and remember.

                                                               

Sis does the Depot

With Benji and Andrea back home in Nash, after a fast and furious weekend, life is returning to normal.  Wah.  I loved having them here.  I'm just back from checking in on mom and as per usual, she was watching some old Western on TV and tried to tell me all about it.  Check.  Nothing new there.  Painters are finishing up touch up and I get to wait for Direct TV to come later this afternoon.  Can you hear the smile on my face over that??  They are due here in the next two hours so we'll see if that actually happens.  (eye roll, snark)

Sunday afternoon, Sis got to go with us to Home Depot since it's a dog friendly place of business.  That was her first (and last) trip.  Even with the complimentary dog cookies, it was just a disaster waiting to happen.  She was all over the place, leash stretched completely out, her pulling like the moose that she is, running side to side in the aisles, with her dad off in the ozone, not noticing that perhaps that wasn't a particularly good or safe idea. I finally had to get parental and take the leash away from him, before she, and he, killed someone. Those two are just dangerous together.

Parkland called and invited Fred and me to come down for a lunch and to see the new patient room mock up they've built to show donor's what the new rooms will look like.  Since it's a little busy right now, we'll put that off until October but I would like to see it and see if, as a nurse, I'd like the set up.  I'm sure they got loads of input from staff prior to the design.  I just want to experience it myself and see what I think. Should be fun to see.

Oh, Sis...no you didn't

In all the outdoor activity taking place around our house yesterday, it seems a fat, black, girl was left "unmonitored" outside and managed to find all kinds of munchables in our alley.  I'll admit she got lots of help from the six Hispanic guys who were working next door at our soon to be new neighbors house.  There's just no telling how many gorditas, frijoles, and burritos she managed to truffle up from their left over lunches, but let's just say I'm paying the price this morning, washing the slip cover on her favorite den chair.  Grrrross. For Sis, the alley is like a big Food Truck that never disappoints or pulls away.  It's just always there.

Brian had an idea yesterday to get Sis one of those shock collars to keep her out of the alley.  He obviously had forgotten who Sis is.  Sis would electrocute herself rather than not go in the alley.  A gate might be a better answer.

This weekend has just gone to fast.  I'm not ready for it to be Monday again with all that another busy week entails, but there are several things I am definitely looking forward to, so I'll shut up with the whining. 

Happy Sunday to all.

Birthday's, Anniversarie's, Make over's

We had a wonderful early birthday dinner last night for Benji at La Duni and ate ourselves silly.  But that's what birthday dinners are for, right?  Andrea's dad joined us--her mom was back in Miami--and it was almost like a wedding reunion since Andrea and Benji are closing in on their first "anniversario"--to quote Senora Maria.  It's hard to believe it's almost been a year since Capri. 

On a less happy note, mom is looking more and more ready to go, to me, and to others, and it's getting harder and harder on all of us to go see her.  Friday my brother said she was all wigged out about "glass".  She screamed every time he picked up his water glass at lunch telling him to be careful.....it will cut you.  Then she didn't want to eat--nothing new--but this time it was because there was "glass" in her food.  We've surmised that when my brother reminded her last week about our old maid, Arvella, and an accident she had with glass that cut up her hands, perhaps she connected seeing my brother with "glass".  Word to the wise...let's don't bring up old traumatic stuff like that with mom, thank you very much.

In my addiction to before and afters, I did a make over on mom Thursday morning because she just looked like hell.  I'm sorry, but I'm just reporting the facts here.  So, I snapped a before photo of her in her wheel chair, fluffed her hair with her hair brush--it was clean as a whistle--just needed some fluffing with a brush, put her on some lipstick, a spritz of perfume, and took another pic.  Voila'.  Loads better.  The funniest part, though, was the lipstick.  I put some on her and them told her to rub her lips together like we gals do.  Nope.  Not gonna happen.  She simply could not do it.  The more we tried, the more she looked blankly at me.  She kept telling me she was watching "The Birds" on TV.  Over and over.  The Birds.  Not.  Some old movie just not The Birds.  I always just play along and laugh like she is.  Who cares what she thinks she's watching...I sure don't.

I asked Benji last night if he wanted to see pic's of her, and he said yes.  When I showed him the pic's, he was aghast.  I had tried to verbally prepare him before he saw them, but I just don't think you really can be prepared.  It just is what it is. 

DFW construction

DFW.  What a whippin.  Have you tried to drive there recently?  It is a complete mess.  They've torn up so much near the entrance to the airport, that you can't read the signs and drive without either having a wreck or missing the temporary exit to DFW.  Uh, huh.  I did. I called Fred yelling that I didn't know where I was and he kept yelling "Well, where are you?"  Doncha think if I knew where I was, I wouldn't be calling you?  Dee duh.  I finally saw the sign that said Colleyville, made a bat-turn as he laughed on the phone, headed back the other way, and saw a sign for DFW.  Nice guy that he is, he called Benji and told him I'd missed an exit, and would be there soon.  Nothing like being ratted out by your partner.  When I fessed up to Benji and Andrea, saying I knew his dad was gonna have a blast with this, Benji laughed and said "he's already called".  Typical.  

 Honestly, after I picked up Andrea and Benji, it took all three of us to make it home in one piece.  They were both navigators while I just drove and followed orders.  In short, if you have to go out there anytime soon, pack your patience and watch for other cars who are just as confused as you are.  Cars were careening all over everywhere, switching lanes.  Pure dee awwwwwful.

That said, we went to dinner last night for Tex-Mex up at North Park to Luna de Noche, not realizing it was....drum roll....Fashion Night.  To say it was interesting would be like saying yesterday was hot.  Not sure what all that was about but some of the attire on the attendees was certainly interesting.  One guy had on a faux fur vest, studded toe shoes, brown pants, and an offbeat choice of hair do.  Since it was a balmy 103 outside, the faux fur vest must have been a really tough call.  Benji's comment was " Dallas has gotten so...well... Dallas."  No kidding.

(***Just a small plug for my niece, Daley, whose business Merry Maps, did the maps for Fashion Night.)
                                                                           
Sis has been in heaven having Andrea and Benji here so much so that she nosed through one of their bags last night while we were at dinner, and dragged their vitamin container into the den, and managed to get one of the flip top containers open.  Luckily, it was the only one that was empty.  Nothing says welcome home like having Sis nose through your bag.  I could have just shot her. 

Women--"The Greatest Generation"

What do you get when you have 5 or 6 male painters outside caulking with their head phones on?  5 or 6 different songs being sung at the same time at full lung capacity.  Sis is in here with me hiding out, not sure what to make of all the singing.  Me?  I don't care and I will say the one guy right outside my window is absolutely tone deaf.  No clue what the song is but I know it's not supposed to sound like that.

Lots going on today and tomorrow, and I'm dragging a bit since I've been staying up late reading Unbroken.  I've been through Louis Zamperelli's childhood, running career, WWII, flying in a bomber, going down and spending countless days at sea, sharks, POW camps, beatings, starvation, more beatings, more starvation, and before I give the whole book away--now you know why I'm tired.  The problem is, I didn't lose any weight and Louis lost 50-60 pounds.  If you want a spell binding read, this is it.  I know I've mentioned it in a previous post, but if this doesn't get your patriotism going, nothing will.

As Tom Brokaw said, the previous generation of men were most definitely "The Greatest Generation"and  that's not meant to take away ANYTHING from our current soldiers--they are also "The Greatest Generation" ever.  I just wish there was no reason for us to have to call any generation that--based on a War.  Let's get  more estrogen to the table, throw the guys out, pass around our kid's baby pictures, listen to each others story, and see if we can't let women come to an agreement that doesn't involve a War, or anyone getting hurt.  It might take a day  or two, but I promise you if you put a tiny baby from a warring country in the arms of a woman on the other side, those women are going to find a compromise.  That is the power of love.  Every generation of women is The Greatest Generation ever.

And that's just how I see it.

Teeth...eewwwww

It's a good thing I was home this morning when the painters started power washing because one of them shot water into the den on the hardwoods, while he was spraying the doors. He couldn't see it but luckily I could. Nothing that a bath towel can't fix but I was quite glad I was home, since a big old water stain is not exactly what I had in mind. The initial smell after washing was Eau de Swamp but is now abating and should be dry enough for sanding and painting tomorrow.  Amen.

Not sure what everyone else did yesterday but we ate.  And ate. And ate.  And then in order to make sure I retained each and every calorie I ingested, so my butt can remain as large as possible, once home, I read, and then took a nap.  I know.  What. a. sloth.  This morning as penance, I got on my gear and did my walk and have been a good girl-- so far-- today.  Being good sucks.  No payoff what so ever.

Now, today....we've just got to talk about teeth.  Filthy, nasty, haven't seen the inside of a dental office in 10 years teeth, with groady build up, brown stains, and gums that look like balloon shades.  Do guys not look in the mirror and see their teeth, ever??  And some women are just as bad.  Grrrrroooossssssnessss.  Maybe it's just me and my germaphobia but that's a health hazard on two legs....just a first class petri dish growing some noxious bacteria that's gonna kill somebody, once all that bacteria hits their blood stream.  And the brown stains??  Lord love 'um..... here's a toothbrush--GET BUSY.  Or, hand me the power washer/sprayer and open your mouth.  I'm ready....I've got on a Hazmat suit.

                                                                                     

It's just always somethin'.....

It finally happened yesterday morning and I have to admit, if I'd seen it with my own eyes, I'd have keeled over.  It seems Fred and Sis were "hunting" dove in the alley before he left for the Farm, and they got one.  The problem was it went down in our across the alley neighbor's backyard.  Uh, oh.  So, Fred put his dachshund retriever to the ultimate test.  He opened their  backyard gate just a hair to let Sis slip through, and told her to "get it".  He watched as Sis found it, grabbed it, and trotted back through the gate.  Since she had done such a good job, he let her carry it across the alley to our trash cans.  OMG...I'm astonished it was not on the front page of the DMN this morning.  Sis has now achieved cult like status around here, and I am about to barf.  He is so proud of her he can hardly stand it and she knows it.  There's nothing worse than a cocky dog.

 On another note, a friend of mine was telling me the other day about how he was ready to kill his son.  It seems his young for 21 year old son had decided to get married, to the wrong girl, and because his Dad did not approve, his Dad was not invited to the wedding.  The Dad was, of course, crushed, and mad, and crushed some more, and luckily knew better than to blast off at the son, and say all the uglies he was dying to say, so he kept quiet, and soldiered on.  His wife seemed to be serene despite the situation, and that just pissed him off more.  He at least wanted somebody to bitch with.  Another week passed.  His phone rang one day and it was his son's number, so he answered it.  He was shocked to hear his new DIL voice--that is until she asked to borrow money.  My friend said he alllllmost swallowed his tongue, told her he couldn't help, and hung up.  Translation: son knew better than to call his Dad for money, so he handed the phone to his new wife and said she could call if she wanted to, but he already knew the answer.  My friend now calls his DIL, Honey Boo Boo, and I laughed so hard I cried.  It's just always somethin'...

The Pigmobile

I think I missed a purrrrfect bidness' opportunity today.  I'm thinking if I had planned ahead, I could have been the surprise Hunter's Roach Coach at the Farm for all the hunters.  They would have all poo-pooed me to death until it got really hot, and then long about dinnertime, they might be pretty damn glad to see me and Sister coming with fresh bags of ice, pulled pork sliders and sauce, cold sliced cantaloupe, cold grapes, cold sliced watermelon, bags of iced cold cup towels to wipe your face and hands, cups for iced sweet tea or plain, and handi wipes for their hands.  I might even have had a bag of frozen bite sized Snickers for dessert.  I. could. have. made. a. million. bucks.  I could have driven from location to location and pulled right up like the Hispanic ladies do for the yard guys and builders crews, and tooted my horn.  One honk and they might have shot me, though.  :((
               

                                                             

Bring on the dove

Last night I threw a plastic sack into the trash can in our bedroom.  It must have caught a breeze from the ceiling fan above because it blew up and out of the trash, and scared Sister so bad she popped straight up in the air like an armadillo does, when you shoot one.  (They make an eeek noise, too, but she didn't.)  I've only seen her get scared like that once or twice before, and it's the funniest thing ever.  Cheapo entertainment.  I howled. 

Fred is off later today to go play War on any doves flying at the Farm.  He will have lots of company since lots of Y chromosomes will be up there doing the same thing.  Sometimes, the more hunters, the better, because if the birds are flying weird, if you don't hit a bunch, somebody else will.  If there not flying, then everybody's bored together.  There's no way in this world or the next, that I'd sit outside in this heat, to shoot at something that can essentially fly faster than I can shoot it.  Plus, they're little and hard to hit, so give me some AC and cable TV, and I'm a happy gal.  OK...and maybe something fun to cook, too, and then I'm really in HEAVEN! Dove on the grill...sure.



And speaking of heaven, (bad segue), I went by a couple of days ago to see mom and she scared me silly.  She looked awwwwful.  Intellectually, I get it that she's not going to look good, but when I actually saw her with no sparkle in her eyes, and little recognition that particular day, emotionally my heart just lurched.  Her hair was all white where the color had grown out and she just did not look like my mom.  I took her pic with my phone and texted it to my sister and she was equally blown away.  Well, I guess dying ain't meant to be pretty and I'll just say it sure isn't.  Shocked the spit right out of me. 

On to a happier topic:  watcha goan do for the holiday weekend? We're heading back up to the Farm for a little while to put on the feed bag with Bruce's people and just generally have a a big old yak-fest. I think we'll leave Sis here since it's just way too hot for her AND there'll be other puppies probably coming who are much bigger than she is, and they might not play well with others.  She'll be much better off here in the cool, guarding her stash of bones.  (All my neighbors will be home, and Mary will be watching our house, so if you're a burglar, don't even think about it.) 

More later.  I feel sure there'll be something I'll need to jawbone about.  And lastly, to those who don't know I make up words and contractions where none exist.....well.....I just do.