Wick and I went shopping for a deep freeze this week, an upright, about half the size of the one we had when the kids were younger. That one was the biggest one Sears had, and you could have buried a couple of people in that thing.
Thinking about that freezer reminded me of an experience one of our cats had with the freezer.
She was a little Siamese kitten, full of curiosity. She loved to jump into empty boxes, suitcases, paper grocery sacks--anything enclosed.
Our freezer was in the carport, so unless I needed something, it was out of the usual traffic patterns.
One day I went to the freezer to get some meat to move into the refrigerator freezer.
A couple of hours later, I realized I had not see the kitten lately, so went in search of her. She didn't seem to be anywhere in the house, but cats are good at hiding when they don't want to be found, and rarely come when called, so I wasn't too worried.
Later in the afternoon, I realized I needed something else from the freezer. Normally, I might go several days without opening the big freezer, so this was unusual.
When I opened the freezer door, I found the kitten. She was sitting on the bottom shelf, shivering. When I picked her up, her whiskers were frozen, and just touching them broke some of them off.
If I had not forgotten something from the freezer that day, she would have frozen to death. I guess there must be a special angel for curious kitty cats.
Fortunately, even though we have a new freezer, we no longer have cats. I just hope Sissy isn't as curious as that kitten was.
Friday, April 08, 2011
Monday, April 04, 2011
Seven Random Things
Kelsey at holymama.org asked me, among several other of her blogging friends, to tell seven random things about myself.
1. I haven't been blogging much lately, because I haven't had much to say. I know, unbelievable, right? I, who *always* has something to say, can't think of anything to say. I suppose it has something to do with Wick retiring, and doing stuff together every day, but then...I wasn't blogging in the months before he retired, either.
2. In case you haven't heard, our Pomeranian, Frankie, who lived to be 16 years old, passed away last month. His demise left a big hole in my heart, and in my life. I still miss him, but not as agonizingly.
3. Probably because this week we got another dog, Sissy the Chihuahua. We named her Sissy because she is scared of everything. She spent the first year of her life locked in a cage, as breeding stock. But her first season, she had one huge puppy which died, and she almost died too, so she was no longer of value as a breeder. Which is how she came to live with us, and we are very happy about that. She has brown eyes, is the color of honey, and weighs about 4 pounds.
4. We are looking forward to warmer weather, and the yearly influx of family and friends who come to the lake during spring break, Easter weekend, Memorial Day, and every chance they get. Last year we had about 35 people here for 4th of July. Swimming, fishing, cooking outside, catching up on all the news, and loving on my kids and grandkids, nieces and nephews and cousins--it's great.
5. Wick built a raised-bed garden for his tomatoes, and I for one am hoping the tomato plants outdo themselves. He plants big ones for him and the tiny grape or cherry size for me. I love them, and could eat them like candy.
6. We finally found just the right kind of drop-leaf table, at a good price. It needs refinishing (thus the good price) but it has 2 extra leaves, and I love the Duncan Phyfe style. Apparently, I don't know how to spell the name, but y'all know what I mean, right? No chairs, but chairs generally don't last nearly as long as tables do.
7. We had a good rain storm this morning, which we needed. We haven't had much rain lately, and the lake is so low we can't get the boat out of the boat house until the water rises. We have one of those pontoon thingys, big enough to take all our kids and grandkids out at once, so we are hoping the water rises enough, before hot weather.
There are a lot of red squiggly lines under words in this post, but I don't know how to spell the words blogspot says are misspelled, so...oh well.
How's that for randomness?
1. I haven't been blogging much lately, because I haven't had much to say. I know, unbelievable, right? I, who *always* has something to say, can't think of anything to say. I suppose it has something to do with Wick retiring, and doing stuff together every day, but then...I wasn't blogging in the months before he retired, either.
2. In case you haven't heard, our Pomeranian, Frankie, who lived to be 16 years old, passed away last month. His demise left a big hole in my heart, and in my life. I still miss him, but not as agonizingly.
3. Probably because this week we got another dog, Sissy the Chihuahua. We named her Sissy because she is scared of everything. She spent the first year of her life locked in a cage, as breeding stock. But her first season, she had one huge puppy which died, and she almost died too, so she was no longer of value as a breeder. Which is how she came to live with us, and we are very happy about that. She has brown eyes, is the color of honey, and weighs about 4 pounds.
4. We are looking forward to warmer weather, and the yearly influx of family and friends who come to the lake during spring break, Easter weekend, Memorial Day, and every chance they get. Last year we had about 35 people here for 4th of July. Swimming, fishing, cooking outside, catching up on all the news, and loving on my kids and grandkids, nieces and nephews and cousins--it's great.
5. Wick built a raised-bed garden for his tomatoes, and I for one am hoping the tomato plants outdo themselves. He plants big ones for him and the tiny grape or cherry size for me. I love them, and could eat them like candy.
6. We finally found just the right kind of drop-leaf table, at a good price. It needs refinishing (thus the good price) but it has 2 extra leaves, and I love the Duncan Phyfe style. Apparently, I don't know how to spell the name, but y'all know what I mean, right? No chairs, but chairs generally don't last nearly as long as tables do.
7. We had a good rain storm this morning, which we needed. We haven't had much rain lately, and the lake is so low we can't get the boat out of the boat house until the water rises. We have one of those pontoon thingys, big enough to take all our kids and grandkids out at once, so we are hoping the water rises enough, before hot weather.
There are a lot of red squiggly lines under words in this post, but I don't know how to spell the words blogspot says are misspelled, so...oh well.
How's that for randomness?
Monday, March 07, 2011
Frankie
Sixteen years ago, Wick gave me a little double handful of fluff, with a little pink tongue and big brown eyes, as a Christmas gift.
We got him from a breeder near Lake Tawakoni.
She lived at the end of a dirt road, in a run-down mobile home. When we knocked on the door, a raucous voice screeched, "Who is it?"
When the door opened, the voice said, "Shut the d--- door!" It was a large parrot, strutting across the top of a big wire cage. Half a dozen tiny Pomeranians skittered into the room, followed by a couple of dust bunnies--their puppies.
We made our selection, and the woman went into another room to write up the paperwork. The parrot screamed, "Don't you sh-- in that floor!"
It was a cold night, so Wick zipped him up in his jacket, with just the little foxy face sticking out under his chin.
We named our furball Frankincense, Frankie for short. He went almost everywhere we went, making every step we made in the house, and patrolling the back yard for intruders.
He was crate trained, and came to view his crate as a safe retreat when our little grandchildren wore him out playing.
For sixteen years he was my companion, my little buddy, my fur baby.
Last Friday morning, we made the final journey with Frankie. He has gone where good dogs go, and I certainly hope we will see him again in Heaven one day.
We got him from a breeder near Lake Tawakoni.
She lived at the end of a dirt road, in a run-down mobile home. When we knocked on the door, a raucous voice screeched, "Who is it?"
When the door opened, the voice said, "Shut the d--- door!" It was a large parrot, strutting across the top of a big wire cage. Half a dozen tiny Pomeranians skittered into the room, followed by a couple of dust bunnies--their puppies.
We made our selection, and the woman went into another room to write up the paperwork. The parrot screamed, "Don't you sh-- in that floor!"
It was a cold night, so Wick zipped him up in his jacket, with just the little foxy face sticking out under his chin.
We named our furball Frankincense, Frankie for short. He went almost everywhere we went, making every step we made in the house, and patrolling the back yard for intruders.
He was crate trained, and came to view his crate as a safe retreat when our little grandchildren wore him out playing.
For sixteen years he was my companion, my little buddy, my fur baby.
Last Friday morning, we made the final journey with Frankie. He has gone where good dogs go, and I certainly hope we will see him again in Heaven one day.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Sew What's New
I've been working on Pie's quilt for almost a year. I have ten days to finish it.
Naturally, nothing has gone smoothly. When I sewed the first seam of the backing to the top, one side puckered up. I had to pick out the whole seam.
Then I had to go to the sewing center to buy a walking foot to do the quilting.
When I went to use the walking foot, I discovered that it required an adapter.
Of course, I didn't have the adapter.
So I had to go back to the sewing center to order one.
While waiting for the adapter to come in, I decided to work on embroidering her bath towels with her name.
I discovered that I couldn't remember how to embroider towels.
So I had to go to the sewing center and get a refresher lesson on how to embroider towels.
Then I realized that I didn't have the materials I needed.
So...I had to go back to the sewing center, where I bought sticky paper. And Solvy. And new needles for the machine.
This morning I did a practice towel.
It actually turned out pretty well.
So I did one of her towels.
And it turned out pretty well.
So what is the trouble now? I'm too tired to do the rest.
So I'm going to take a nap, and do the rest of the towels this evening.
Assuming I don't run into any more shortages, problems, or missing parts, and have to go back to the sewing center.
Oh. I forgot. I do have to go back to the sewing center to pick up the adapter.
I wonder if they are getting tired of seeing me yet.
Naturally, nothing has gone smoothly. When I sewed the first seam of the backing to the top, one side puckered up. I had to pick out the whole seam.
Then I had to go to the sewing center to buy a walking foot to do the quilting.
When I went to use the walking foot, I discovered that it required an adapter.
Of course, I didn't have the adapter.
So I had to go back to the sewing center to order one.
While waiting for the adapter to come in, I decided to work on embroidering her bath towels with her name.
I discovered that I couldn't remember how to embroider towels.
So I had to go to the sewing center and get a refresher lesson on how to embroider towels.
Then I realized that I didn't have the materials I needed.
So...I had to go back to the sewing center, where I bought sticky paper. And Solvy. And new needles for the machine.
This morning I did a practice towel.
It actually turned out pretty well.
So I did one of her towels.
And it turned out pretty well.
So what is the trouble now? I'm too tired to do the rest.
So I'm going to take a nap, and do the rest of the towels this evening.
Assuming I don't run into any more shortages, problems, or missing parts, and have to go back to the sewing center.
Oh. I forgot. I do have to go back to the sewing center to pick up the adapter.
I wonder if they are getting tired of seeing me yet.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Hello, Goodbye. Come back soon.
Last summer, Wick bought me a fancy new sewing machine that has all kinds of bells and whistles. The sewing shop offered free lessons. I'm all over anything free.
Then I heard that my niece was expecting, so I thought I could make a quilt for the baby, using the quilt project to practice the skills I was learning in my sewing classes.
I couldn't find a pattern that was exactly what I wanted, so I sketched out a little house, complete with chimney, clouds, cartoon sun, flowering trees, and a little red path to the door.
A baby quilt is about 45" by 60", so I was able to handle it quite well.
This became the central panel, a sort of "welcome home" for the new baby. The surrounding panels were patchwork, and I was very pleased with the outcome.
Then my son and DIL approached me about making a quilt for Pie, who would be graduating this year. They had a big pile of soccer jerseys, jackets, shorts, t-shirts from all her years of playing club soccer.
Since she has received a soccer scholarship, what a great way to preserve the memories and look forward toward her college years.
Even though I had almost a year for this project, I had to start right away. I'm slow, and have to take frequent breaks, so I needed to get started right away.
The squares are 12" x 12", with two inch lattice strips. As long as I was working with a square at a time, I was fine. Then I started sewing the squares into strips. The pieces began to get heavy and harder to handle.
By the time I had 5 squares across, by 6 squares down, I was struggling. The top got really heavy. I still need to add the borders, and then quilt it, but I don't think I can handle it alone.
Thankfully, Wick has volunteered to help handle the quilt as I sew.
Two quilts.
One to welcome home a new addition to the family.
The other to say Goodbye, as our eldest grandchild spreads her wings, and begins a new stage in her life.
Yes, she will come home now and then, but she will be different every time, as she grows and evolves into young adulthood.
It's easy to say hello.
Hard to say goodbye.
Come home soon, sugar pie.
Then I heard that my niece was expecting, so I thought I could make a quilt for the baby, using the quilt project to practice the skills I was learning in my sewing classes.
I couldn't find a pattern that was exactly what I wanted, so I sketched out a little house, complete with chimney, clouds, cartoon sun, flowering trees, and a little red path to the door.
A baby quilt is about 45" by 60", so I was able to handle it quite well.
This became the central panel, a sort of "welcome home" for the new baby. The surrounding panels were patchwork, and I was very pleased with the outcome.
Then my son and DIL approached me about making a quilt for Pie, who would be graduating this year. They had a big pile of soccer jerseys, jackets, shorts, t-shirts from all her years of playing club soccer.
Since she has received a soccer scholarship, what a great way to preserve the memories and look forward toward her college years.
Even though I had almost a year for this project, I had to start right away. I'm slow, and have to take frequent breaks, so I needed to get started right away.
The squares are 12" x 12", with two inch lattice strips. As long as I was working with a square at a time, I was fine. Then I started sewing the squares into strips. The pieces began to get heavy and harder to handle.
By the time I had 5 squares across, by 6 squares down, I was struggling. The top got really heavy. I still need to add the borders, and then quilt it, but I don't think I can handle it alone.
Thankfully, Wick has volunteered to help handle the quilt as I sew.
Two quilts.
One to welcome home a new addition to the family.
The other to say Goodbye, as our eldest grandchild spreads her wings, and begins a new stage in her life.
Yes, she will come home now and then, but she will be different every time, as she grows and evolves into young adulthood.
It's easy to say hello.
Hard to say goodbye.
Come home soon, sugar pie.
Monday, February 08, 2010
Loss
It's a cold, rainy, bleak day.
My niece, who had her first prenatal check-up last week, lost her baby last night.
True, it was not a planned pregnancy. And not the best timing. Her husband is on the short list to be shipped overseas with the National Guard. She has a year-old boy, and less-than-three-year-old girl.
But this baby was wanted, nevertheless.
Wanted by its mother and father.
Wanted by its grandparents.
Wanted by its aunts and uncles and cousins.
A beloved child.
Our great consolation is that this baby is back in God's arms today.
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
My niece, who had her first prenatal check-up last week, lost her baby last night.
True, it was not a planned pregnancy. And not the best timing. Her husband is on the short list to be shipped overseas with the National Guard. She has a year-old boy, and less-than-three-year-old girl.
But this baby was wanted, nevertheless.
Wanted by its mother and father.
Wanted by its grandparents.
Wanted by its aunts and uncles and cousins.
A beloved child.
Our great consolation is that this baby is back in God's arms today.
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
16 your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Moonlight and Ice
In one of her "little house" books, Laura Ingalls Wilder describes a night of frigid temperatures, when she and her sister Mary went for a walk on the frozen lake.
She describes the path of light created by the moon shining on the ice, and how she and Mary walked and "skated", sliding over the ice, following the moon path.
Each time I have read this passage, I have wondered what it is like to live in a place where water freezes deep enough and hard enough to walk on. I wonder what it is like to live in a place where snow stays on the ground all winter, where even the tightest, best insulated house has cold spots, where the temperatures fall into the teens or lower.
Aside from the snow, that's the kind of weather we have had here this week. One night it got down to thirteen degrees. We have been drinking a lot of hot spiced cider, tea, and cocoa. We have every blanket in the place on our bed, even the "fur" throw I usually keep on my rocker.
The pond at the RV park is frozen over. It has been frozen for five days.
Last night I let Frankie out, and was struck by the light shining on the frozen water, and like Laura, I felt as if it were inviting me to walk that shimmering path.
Unlike Laura, I am not a child, with a child's boundless energy. I am also fighting a sinus infection and bronchitis, so have not actually been outside for several days.
But last night, oh, last night, how I wanted to follow that icy path, to run and slide and run until my lungs hurt, to run and slide along that shining silver path, into the moon.
She describes the path of light created by the moon shining on the ice, and how she and Mary walked and "skated", sliding over the ice, following the moon path.
Each time I have read this passage, I have wondered what it is like to live in a place where water freezes deep enough and hard enough to walk on. I wonder what it is like to live in a place where snow stays on the ground all winter, where even the tightest, best insulated house has cold spots, where the temperatures fall into the teens or lower.
Aside from the snow, that's the kind of weather we have had here this week. One night it got down to thirteen degrees. We have been drinking a lot of hot spiced cider, tea, and cocoa. We have every blanket in the place on our bed, even the "fur" throw I usually keep on my rocker.
The pond at the RV park is frozen over. It has been frozen for five days.
Last night I let Frankie out, and was struck by the light shining on the frozen water, and like Laura, I felt as if it were inviting me to walk that shimmering path.
Unlike Laura, I am not a child, with a child's boundless energy. I am also fighting a sinus infection and bronchitis, so have not actually been outside for several days.
But last night, oh, last night, how I wanted to follow that icy path, to run and slide and run until my lungs hurt, to run and slide along that shining silver path, into the moon.
Thursday, January 07, 2010
New Year's Eve
For the past several years, we have been invited to New Year's Eve parties, but have stayed home and had a quiet evening together.
Last New Year's Eve we spent in a hospital room, drinking cranberry juice and watching New Year's Eve on t.v.
This year, our niece and her family, who have a place here at the lake just a few doors down from us, wanted to have a party.
Hey, a party we can walk to and walk home from, without fighting traffic and dodging drunks. What a deal.
Our son and his family came.
Some cousins came.
Some extended family came.
About fifteen of us, five of whom were teenagers, and we had a great time playing a game called Werewolf, the point of which is to see who is the most convincing liar.
A little drinking.
A lot of eating.
Family stories that made us laugh until we cried.
A guitar lesson that made me laugh so hard I couldn't breathe.
Some people want to be out among the crowd, with all the alcohol and smoke and noise, waiting for the ball to drop at midnight.
For us, midnight came and went without much notice, because we were so involved with each other.
We told our resolutions, some funny, some serious, and talked about the future, with one of the teens leaving for college next summer, and about the past, and good times together.
Not very exciting by some people's standards, but for us...it's the time of our lives.
Last New Year's Eve we spent in a hospital room, drinking cranberry juice and watching New Year's Eve on t.v.
This year, our niece and her family, who have a place here at the lake just a few doors down from us, wanted to have a party.
Hey, a party we can walk to and walk home from, without fighting traffic and dodging drunks. What a deal.
Our son and his family came.
Some cousins came.
Some extended family came.
About fifteen of us, five of whom were teenagers, and we had a great time playing a game called Werewolf, the point of which is to see who is the most convincing liar.
A little drinking.
A lot of eating.
Family stories that made us laugh until we cried.
A guitar lesson that made me laugh so hard I couldn't breathe.
Some people want to be out among the crowd, with all the alcohol and smoke and noise, waiting for the ball to drop at midnight.
For us, midnight came and went without much notice, because we were so involved with each other.
We told our resolutions, some funny, some serious, and talked about the future, with one of the teens leaving for college next summer, and about the past, and good times together.
Not very exciting by some people's standards, but for us...it's the time of our lives.
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
A Progressive Christmas
We started by visiting Wick's brother Tommy and his wife Betty in Oklahoma City.
Next, a Saturday with my mama, step-father, siblings, nieces and nephews, their spouses, and kids, and our kids and grandkids.
Then we spent a couple of days in Houston with his cousin Skip and wife Kathaleen.
From there we went to Scott and Jamie's, where Jeana and family met us for a few days.
After a couple of days' break, we spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with our dear friends Bob and Dean and their family.
Different foods at each stop. Gifts to open, and the joy of watching loved ones open their gifts from us. Lots of family stories, and laughing, and a few tears as we talked about those who have gone on before us. Kisses and hugs and promises to see each other again soon.
It was wonderful.
But we are glad to be home.
It just seems awfully quiet all of a sudden.
Next, a Saturday with my mama, step-father, siblings, nieces and nephews, their spouses, and kids, and our kids and grandkids.
Then we spent a couple of days in Houston with his cousin Skip and wife Kathaleen.
From there we went to Scott and Jamie's, where Jeana and family met us for a few days.
After a couple of days' break, we spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with our dear friends Bob and Dean and their family.
Different foods at each stop. Gifts to open, and the joy of watching loved ones open their gifts from us. Lots of family stories, and laughing, and a few tears as we talked about those who have gone on before us. Kisses and hugs and promises to see each other again soon.
It was wonderful.
But we are glad to be home.
It just seems awfully quiet all of a sudden.
Sunday, January 03, 2010
You are what you eat
Well....if you are what you eat...then this is what I am:
Fritoes
bean dip
raw broccoli, celery, yellow squash, zuccini
fiesta ranch dip
Triscuits
cheese (smoked gouda, colbyjack, cheddar, provolone, havarti, pepperjack, and a couple of varieties I couldn't identify)
ranch dip
onion dip
guacamole dip
fudge
divinity
pumpkin pie
apple pie
candied sweet potatoes
chocolate chip cookies
raw cucumbers in sugar and vinegar
jellied cranberry sauce
cranberry sauce with whole berries
cranberry/orange/pecan relish
spiced walnuts with cumin (Jeana made those)
spice tea
hot spiced cider
hot cocoa
coffee with cream and/or Irish cream and/or spiced rum
hot buttered toast with eggs sunny-side up
smoky maple bacon
pulled pork
ham
roast turkey
smoked turkey
turkey salad
turkey casserole
turkey soup
turkey and dressing (cornbread/biscuit/sage, not light bread stuffing)
beef stew
black eyed peas and cornbread
lime cake (the one Wick's mama used to make)
chocolate covered pretzels
white chocolate covered pretzels
chocolate cookies
red velvet cake
In the weeks from Thanksgiving to New Year's Eve, this is just what I can *remember* eating. I may have forgotten a few things. But not much.
If anyone wants me, I'll just be sitting over here looking out the window, drinking my Slim-fast.
Groan.
Fritoes
bean dip
raw broccoli, celery, yellow squash, zuccini
fiesta ranch dip
Triscuits
cheese (smoked gouda, colbyjack, cheddar, provolone, havarti, pepperjack, and a couple of varieties I couldn't identify)
ranch dip
onion dip
guacamole dip
fudge
divinity
pumpkin pie
apple pie
candied sweet potatoes
chocolate chip cookies
raw cucumbers in sugar and vinegar
jellied cranberry sauce
cranberry sauce with whole berries
cranberry/orange/pecan relish
spiced walnuts with cumin (Jeana made those)
spice tea
hot spiced cider
hot cocoa
coffee with cream and/or Irish cream and/or spiced rum
hot buttered toast with eggs sunny-side up
smoky maple bacon
pulled pork
ham
roast turkey
smoked turkey
turkey salad
turkey casserole
turkey soup
turkey and dressing (cornbread/biscuit/sage, not light bread stuffing)
beef stew
black eyed peas and cornbread
lime cake (the one Wick's mama used to make)
chocolate covered pretzels
white chocolate covered pretzels
chocolate cookies
red velvet cake
In the weeks from Thanksgiving to New Year's Eve, this is just what I can *remember* eating. I may have forgotten a few things. But not much.
If anyone wants me, I'll just be sitting over here looking out the window, drinking my Slim-fast.
Groan.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
High School Football in Texas
My brother has been a coach for many years. Our son Scott has been a coach for not quite so many years. Chuck and Scott have always had a close relationship, ever since Scott was born, and now they are coaching at the same high school in East Texas.
If you asked either one of them why they teach, they would say, because they won't let me coach unless I teach.
Chuck played football in high school and college. So did Scott.
We lived in Denison, a small town near the Texas-Oklahoma border.
Denison won the Texas state football championship two years in a row. Scott was part of that. And so were we, and the rest of the town.
During the playoffs, businesses closed on Friday night because everybody was at the game.
Season tickets were handed down like family heirlooms.
More people showed up to watch practices than were in the stands for other teams during game time.
In bigger cities, high school football is not quite as intense, but in small towns, with only one high school, it is literally the only game in town.
In Texas, coaches' careers ride on the backs of teen-age warriors battling on the football field. If the team wins, the coach gets to keep his job. If the team looses, he starts looking for another job.
Scott and Chuck are working together now. Their families spend a lot of time together on weekends. We go to the games, and sit with family, watching our guys work.
This year, Jefferson went two-deep in the playoffs. The game was a close one, 14-7. Jefferson lost, but it was a close game. The boys played hard. Only 8 starters are graduating, so next year's team will have a strong foundation of experienced players.
Our grandson will be playing next year.
Once more, we will be sitting in the stands, whether it is 105 in the shade in August, or 45 in November. If it rains, we have water-proof boots, a large plastic dropcloth, and a big umbrella. If it snows, we have thick jackets, fleecy scarves, and wooly gloves.
Rain or shine, hot or cold, we follow our team.
When Scott stopped playing, we thought those days were gone forever.
Next fall is going to be a lot of fun.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Indian Summer Day
Gaggle of geese, sleeping on the banks of the lake, heads tucked under wings.
One gander, neck stretched high, head swiveling, watching for predators.
Sunshine on our shoulders, warm as a hug.
Lake rippling in a light breeze.
Chicken salad, fresh whole-grain homemade bread, crisp lettuce, sweet onions for a picnic lunch.
Wick laughing as a goose eats stale bread from his hand.
Grandchildren running, climbing, laughing, shouting to one another.
Sated geese drifting away across the water like scattered bread crumbs.
Cast your bread upon the waters, and it will return to you ten-fold.
Mostly in the form of goose poop all over the grass.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
An Airline Brat Goes Camping
Jeana's husband works for an airline. Most of their traveling is by airplane.
However, a few weeks ago, they decided to go tent camping.
They were in the process of gathering up equipment, packing clothes, and putting food in ices chests, when one of the kids asked:
"Hey, will the campground provide towels?"
No, and they don't do hot breakfasts, either.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Going to the Zoo
Ever since my long illness last winter, I have struggled with limited mobility. I can walk, with a cane, but not very far. I can walk with a walker a little further, because it lets me sit down frequently to rest.
But long walks, trips to the mall, for example, are just out of my range for now.
My darling husband realizes how frustrating this limitation is, and tries to find ways to compensate. He got me an electric wheel chair, but it is large and hard to load, and impossible right now with his right arm in a splint and sling.
So he found me one of those lightweight electric scooters. He struggles to load it one-armed, but it is surprising how often someone volunteers to help with loading and unloading.
A couple of weeks ago, on a beautiful fall day, we took my little red scooter and went to the zoo with Jeana and her children.
Since they are homeschooling, we got to go on a Tuesday, when most kids are sitting in a classroom, instead of roaming the zoo, laughing at the monkeys, and racing up and down the ramps.
We had a picnic, sat in the sun and soaked up its late-fall warmth, picked up the reddest leaves I have ever seen...soft and supple still, a vivid russet red that seemed to glow like an ember in my hand, holding within itself the promise of winter and of the renewal of life in the spring.
Our grandchildren took turns walking along with me, talking about everything we saw, and expressing pride in me for coming along on their adventure, even though I had to do it on my little red scooter.
Wick and I "walked" along together, me able to keep up with his long strides, and laughingly lamenting that we can't hold hands as we stroll--I because I need to steer the scooter, and he because he has his right arm in a splint--closest thing to a normal walk in a long, long time.
Life is full of simple pleasures, things for which to be thankful. On this day, I realized it in the moment, instead of days or years later.
Life is a gift. Love is a gift. I am blessed to have both.
But long walks, trips to the mall, for example, are just out of my range for now.
My darling husband realizes how frustrating this limitation is, and tries to find ways to compensate. He got me an electric wheel chair, but it is large and hard to load, and impossible right now with his right arm in a splint and sling.
So he found me one of those lightweight electric scooters. He struggles to load it one-armed, but it is surprising how often someone volunteers to help with loading and unloading.
A couple of weeks ago, on a beautiful fall day, we took my little red scooter and went to the zoo with Jeana and her children.
Since they are homeschooling, we got to go on a Tuesday, when most kids are sitting in a classroom, instead of roaming the zoo, laughing at the monkeys, and racing up and down the ramps.
We had a picnic, sat in the sun and soaked up its late-fall warmth, picked up the reddest leaves I have ever seen...soft and supple still, a vivid russet red that seemed to glow like an ember in my hand, holding within itself the promise of winter and of the renewal of life in the spring.
Our grandchildren took turns walking along with me, talking about everything we saw, and expressing pride in me for coming along on their adventure, even though I had to do it on my little red scooter.
Wick and I "walked" along together, me able to keep up with his long strides, and laughingly lamenting that we can't hold hands as we stroll--I because I need to steer the scooter, and he because he has his right arm in a splint--closest thing to a normal walk in a long, long time.
Life is full of simple pleasures, things for which to be thankful. On this day, I realized it in the moment, instead of days or years later.
Life is a gift. Love is a gift. I am blessed to have both.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Winter Is on Its Way
Cold weather, wind blowing, leaves falling like snow.
Chicken is simmering on the stove, filling the air with its fragrance.
We are sitting in front of the fire, toasting our toes, and looking at the lake through the window.
Quilts are on the beds.
Warm houseshoes have been found where they were hiding in the depths of the closet, and sweats, warm, cozy, comfortable, are the attire of the day.
Clouds blow across the sky, with patches of blue sky and sunshine peeking through now and then.
The pantry is full; the freezer is stocked.
The harvest is gathered in.
Our hearts are filled with thanksgiving.
Chicken is simmering on the stove, filling the air with its fragrance.
We are sitting in front of the fire, toasting our toes, and looking at the lake through the window.
Quilts are on the beds.
Warm houseshoes have been found where they were hiding in the depths of the closet, and sweats, warm, cozy, comfortable, are the attire of the day.
Clouds blow across the sky, with patches of blue sky and sunshine peeking through now and then.
The pantry is full; the freezer is stocked.
The harvest is gathered in.
Our hearts are filled with thanksgiving.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
She Has Her Mother's Sense of Humor
Conversation between daughter Jeana and her eldest, Katoushka, age 13:
K: Why are you wearing a Christmas sweater in October?
Jeana: It's not a Christmas sweater.
K: Yes it is, it's red and green.
J: No, it's red and shades of grey, see?
K: Red and grey? What kind of Christmas sweater is that?
K: Why are you wearing a Christmas sweater in October?
Jeana: It's not a Christmas sweater.
K: Yes it is, it's red and green.
J: No, it's red and shades of grey, see?
K: Red and grey? What kind of Christmas sweater is that?
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
What's REally Important
Yesterday I wrote about the stuff stolen from the cabin.
Tomorrow Wick will have surgery on his arm.
The stuff that was taken was just stuff. As Wick said, a year ago he was just praying that I would live one more day.
Today I am praying that the surgeon will have the skill to restore Wick's hand and that he will regain total function.
Compared to the risk of losing each other, stuff pales by comparison.
As the Bible says, our true treasures are in Heaven, where no rust corrupts, no moth consumes, and no thief can steal what is truly valuable.
Tomorrow... we have been hoping for two weeks for this surgery to be scheduled, and now it is less than 12 hours away. Jeana will go with him, since I still can't drive. I will stay here with the grandkids, and pray.
Tomorrow Wick will have surgery on his arm.
The stuff that was taken was just stuff. As Wick said, a year ago he was just praying that I would live one more day.
Today I am praying that the surgeon will have the skill to restore Wick's hand and that he will regain total function.
Compared to the risk of losing each other, stuff pales by comparison.
As the Bible says, our true treasures are in Heaven, where no rust corrupts, no moth consumes, and no thief can steal what is truly valuable.
Tomorrow... we have been hoping for two weeks for this surgery to be scheduled, and now it is less than 12 hours away. Jeana will go with him, since I still can't drive. I will stay here with the grandkids, and pray.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Break-in
We were away from the cabin for more than two weeks after Wick's incident, and apparently, while we were gone, we had uninvited guests.
Unwanted guests.
They took Wick's air compressor, a satchel full of tools, the computer printer, and a digital camera.
They also took most of my jewelry. Not the junk. No, they are much too discriminating for that. They only took the good stuff.
The pearl necklace Wick gave me when I graduated from high school.
The ruby ring I got when I finished my PhD.
My grandmother's opal ring.
Things that have comparitively little monetary value, but to me were priceless.
Unwanted guests.
They took Wick's air compressor, a satchel full of tools, the computer printer, and a digital camera.
They also took most of my jewelry. Not the junk. No, they are much too discriminating for that. They only took the good stuff.
The pearl necklace Wick gave me when I graduated from high school.
The ruby ring I got when I finished my PhD.
My grandmother's opal ring.
Things that have comparitively little monetary value, but to me were priceless.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Banking on the Kindness of Strangers
Last week Jeana took us to see a surgeon regarding Wick's arm. We had to drive a long way, on unfamiliar roads, and for a long stretch we were on a toll road.
As we approached the toll road, I said I needed to make a pit stop. With all the meds I take, that's a pretty frequent request.
Unfortunately, the lead-up to the toll road is rather desolate--no convenience stores, or fast-food places, or anything else that we could see. Finally, the last exit before getting on the toll road, we saw a bank.
I told Jeana to pull over at the bank. She said, are you going to ask to use their restroom?
I said, any port in a storm.
As I hobbled through the door with my cane, a lovely young lady with a charming smile asked, how may we help you today?
I said, may I use your restroom?
She could have just pointed, but she walked me across the lobby, past the tellers and the glassed-in offices, to a door leading to a hallway where the restrooms were.
With a gracious Vanna White motion, she said, Please let us know if there is anything else we can do for you.
Wow. How lovely, to be treated as a welcome guest, even though I did not have any legitimate bank business to transact, and don't even have an account at that office.
Aren't people kind?
As we approached the toll road, I said I needed to make a pit stop. With all the meds I take, that's a pretty frequent request.
Unfortunately, the lead-up to the toll road is rather desolate--no convenience stores, or fast-food places, or anything else that we could see. Finally, the last exit before getting on the toll road, we saw a bank.
I told Jeana to pull over at the bank. She said, are you going to ask to use their restroom?
I said, any port in a storm.
As I hobbled through the door with my cane, a lovely young lady with a charming smile asked, how may we help you today?
I said, may I use your restroom?
She could have just pointed, but she walked me across the lobby, past the tellers and the glassed-in offices, to a door leading to a hallway where the restrooms were.
With a gracious Vanna White motion, she said, Please let us know if there is anything else we can do for you.
Wow. How lovely, to be treated as a welcome guest, even though I did not have any legitimate bank business to transact, and don't even have an account at that office.
Aren't people kind?
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Drugs, Mayhem, and Chihuahuas--The Saga of Little Bob
One night Jeana and I were talking about our friends Bob and Deen. I happened to mention their little dog, Bob. Jeana wanted to know why they would name the dog the same name as the owner.
So I started telling her about Bob, who is Frankie's only doggy friend.
Now this is an East Texas story, which I pieced together from different sources. I can no longer remember who told what part of the story, but the most noticeable feature of all the narrators was the sense of place--the East Texas way of telling a story, rambling from one thing to another, from one person to another, and all told in that deep East Texas vernacular.
I have consolidated all those voices into one narrator, and tried my best to reproduce how those voices sound.
Wall, y'all ain't been in the neighborhood long enough to know who is who and what is what, but y'all know that house that's right opposite y'all's house on the circle? [We live on a road that makes a full circle.] The one with the fenced yard?
They's just somethin' about folks as would fence up their front yard. Don't seem very welcomin' somehow, does it? Like they don't really want you to come visit. Don't set out on the porch, nor in the yard, nor come 'round nobody else's place neither. And they had a big boy, nearly growed up, and he don't go to school, nor work, nor nothin', far as any of us could tell.
Never seen his daddy hit a lick at a snake with a stick, don't know as he ever worked much either.
The mama, now she had a whole passel of them lil ol dogs, you know them little Mexican dogs, like that'un on the Taco Bell ad, that always said Yo, Key Arrow Taco Bell [yo quiero Taco Bell]?
Them lil dogs ain't big as a minute, none of 'm.
Wall, she had a whole herd of them lil dogs, and she sold'm to folks as wanted one. But then they fell on hard times. Couldn't even pay the light bill. Said they just couldn't afford to feed so many dogs, no matter how little, and just opened the gate and turned 'm loose on the neighborhood.
Wasn't long after that the laws showed up. Just went right in through that open gate, busted down the door, and hauled 'm off to jail.
We always suspected they was dealin' drugs or somethin'
Lots of folks took one of 'm, just picked 'm up off the road. [We are back to the dogs now.]
But a few of 'm hung around, all skinny and scrawny, and lookin' pitiful.
Joyce, across the road, she felt sorry for 'm, and she took up with lil Bob. He was so skinny an' poor lookin', she just had to feed him.
Then, o'course, he kep' on comin' round to her house, lookin' so pitiful, she just couldn't turn 'im away. But you know she's got two dogs already. That big 'n, the one with the crazy blue eyes, that she calls Sonica cuz they found her at the Sonic, and that little'n that looks sorta like them Mexican dogs, that she calls Puppy--that Puppy is mean as a snake, she'd as soon bite you as look at you.
Anyways, she couldn't keep lil Bob cuz of her dogs, she was scared they'd eat him up, so she calls Bob and Deen and asks 'm to take lil Bob.
Now Deen, after her chows Sam and Pam died, she said after somethin' happens to Tabby, that lil black cat, she ain't havin' no more animals.
But she seen lil Bob, and he didn't weigh but two pounds, just skin and bones he was, and she couldn't turn 'im down.
She carried him home, and took him to the vet, and fed him up til he weighed more 'n five pounds--real plump he is now.
Bob, he didn't care much for havin' a dog with his own same name, so they tried to change it, but he wouldn't pay them no never mind no matter what they said, unless they called him Bob.
Wick said it would be easier to change Bob's name than to change the dog's name.
So we call him Bobby, or Little Bob, and he just loves on everybody that comes around, licks on 'em, and wants to sit in their lap, and just wags his tail til he nearly wags hisself off his feet. Cute as a button, and real smart. Hardly ever barks, except at the cows.
He's a good little dog, that Bob. If you like them lil ol' bitty dogs.
So I started telling her about Bob, who is Frankie's only doggy friend.
Now this is an East Texas story, which I pieced together from different sources. I can no longer remember who told what part of the story, but the most noticeable feature of all the narrators was the sense of place--the East Texas way of telling a story, rambling from one thing to another, from one person to another, and all told in that deep East Texas vernacular.
I have consolidated all those voices into one narrator, and tried my best to reproduce how those voices sound.
Wall, y'all ain't been in the neighborhood long enough to know who is who and what is what, but y'all know that house that's right opposite y'all's house on the circle? [We live on a road that makes a full circle.] The one with the fenced yard?
They's just somethin' about folks as would fence up their front yard. Don't seem very welcomin' somehow, does it? Like they don't really want you to come visit. Don't set out on the porch, nor in the yard, nor come 'round nobody else's place neither. And they had a big boy, nearly growed up, and he don't go to school, nor work, nor nothin', far as any of us could tell.
Never seen his daddy hit a lick at a snake with a stick, don't know as he ever worked much either.
The mama, now she had a whole passel of them lil ol dogs, you know them little Mexican dogs, like that'un on the Taco Bell ad, that always said Yo, Key Arrow Taco Bell [yo quiero Taco Bell]?
Them lil dogs ain't big as a minute, none of 'm.
Wall, she had a whole herd of them lil dogs, and she sold'm to folks as wanted one. But then they fell on hard times. Couldn't even pay the light bill. Said they just couldn't afford to feed so many dogs, no matter how little, and just opened the gate and turned 'm loose on the neighborhood.
Wasn't long after that the laws showed up. Just went right in through that open gate, busted down the door, and hauled 'm off to jail.
We always suspected they was dealin' drugs or somethin'
Lots of folks took one of 'm, just picked 'm up off the road. [We are back to the dogs now.]
But a few of 'm hung around, all skinny and scrawny, and lookin' pitiful.
Joyce, across the road, she felt sorry for 'm, and she took up with lil Bob. He was so skinny an' poor lookin', she just had to feed him.
Then, o'course, he kep' on comin' round to her house, lookin' so pitiful, she just couldn't turn 'im away. But you know she's got two dogs already. That big 'n, the one with the crazy blue eyes, that she calls Sonica cuz they found her at the Sonic, and that little'n that looks sorta like them Mexican dogs, that she calls Puppy--that Puppy is mean as a snake, she'd as soon bite you as look at you.
Anyways, she couldn't keep lil Bob cuz of her dogs, she was scared they'd eat him up, so she calls Bob and Deen and asks 'm to take lil Bob.
Now Deen, after her chows Sam and Pam died, she said after somethin' happens to Tabby, that lil black cat, she ain't havin' no more animals.
But she seen lil Bob, and he didn't weigh but two pounds, just skin and bones he was, and she couldn't turn 'im down.
She carried him home, and took him to the vet, and fed him up til he weighed more 'n five pounds--real plump he is now.
Bob, he didn't care much for havin' a dog with his own same name, so they tried to change it, but he wouldn't pay them no never mind no matter what they said, unless they called him Bob.
Wick said it would be easier to change Bob's name than to change the dog's name.
So we call him Bobby, or Little Bob, and he just loves on everybody that comes around, licks on 'em, and wants to sit in their lap, and just wags his tail til he nearly wags hisself off his feet. Cute as a button, and real smart. Hardly ever barks, except at the cows.
He's a good little dog, that Bob. If you like them lil ol' bitty dogs.
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