Photo Friday

I'm at the library in order to post some photos to my blog. . The first two photos were taken Tuesday morning after the ice storm. The photo of Toby, GBN1, Zoe and Ranger were taken last Friday while we had the girls. GBN2 was too snotty (or snuggly as GBN1 says) to go outside and help Crewcraw feed the horses.

Ice Driveway or Hockey Rink

When I went out to feed the chickens, the sun was shining and it was beautiful outside. I decided to walk to the mailbox, which is about a quarter of a mile down our gravel driveway. I had to walk on the edge of the road, because the snow and ice was on the road was slick – the grass had snow, but it has more give. Although Toby and Jesse had driven on the driveway and a friend had come by in her big, Dodge truck, there were no tracks on the driveway at all – it was that frozen. The walk to the mailbox was wonderful. It was good to be out in the sunshine and the snow was lovely. Jes and Toby got home before sunset. Jesse grabbed her camera and headed out the door to get some shots of the snow while the sun was going down. About 30 minutes later when the sun was down, she came in from the cold. I mentioned that I had gotten some great shots of the snow and ice earlier in the day when the sun was rising, but could not post them. Jesse said, "You are going to have to give me your password so I can post your pictures. And I will do some editing while I’m at it." Then she gave me that smart aleck grin. She posted her photos on her blog.

I talked to my DIL on the phone, and told her how snow and ice covered our driveway was. Then I invited her over for a game of hockey – bring your own broom since we don’t have any hockey sticks. While on the phone, I promised GBN1 that we would get her a new cat when the weather is warmer – maybe this spring. She then said she wanted 100 cats and maybe some black geese!? Here is a blog and photo of the last goose at our house. I feel like I am feeding the coyotes.

Slip Sliding Away

I tried several times this morning to post a photo of the sun shining through the ice on the trees. It is beautiful outside, but very cold still. Staying home is the plan for the day. I usually stay home on Thursdays because it is an art day – I may be stir crazy by Friday.

In 1990 I was driving home to RR in my 4-wheel drive Subaru from my job as a middle school teacher in Questa, NM. It was beginning to snow and the traffic coming down the canyon (lots of Questa folk work in RR) was heavy as usual. Snow was sticking to the road and fairly slick. As I reached the S curves, which climb up to RR, a car coming down the canyon was passing another car and therefore was in my lane. Although there was no panic, I must have turned my wheel and hit the brakes just enough to send my car into a slide. I slid one way, and then I slid the other, and then I went over the edge of the road and down into the trees. I went down the hill headed toward the forest thinking, "this is not good." Apparently my tire hit a rock which spun my car sideways, and I slid into the trees. I came to rest without hitting a thing other than the rock, which spun me sideways. I could not open the passenger’s door due to trees. I could not go forward or backward due to trees, but I did not hit a tree at all. It happened very fast. I got out of the car just as someone stopped on the highway above me and asked if I were okay. I was. I asked them to call Toby, and they did. He arrived quickly since his office was in RR at that time. The ambulance and other rescue vehicles also showed up about that time thinking it was a bad accident. Toby later said he felt very panicked when he saw where I had gone off the road. As he looked over the edge of the road and saw me safe and the car untouched, he was amazed. Jack G, one of the rescuers, climbed down to where I was and said, "Wow Lou, that is the best job of parallel parking I have ever seen."

My car was more damaged by the tow truck pulling the car sideways than by the actual accident. Yet it was not bad and I was very lucky or blessed. The real damage was done to my psyche – that feeling of sliding, of being out of control, not being able to stop it, and the quickness of how it all came down, has stayed with me to this day. Driving in icy conditions absolutely terrifies me. I have driven in bad weather since then (it is difficult to live in NM and not drive in snow and ice), but I don’t like it. NM takes very good care of their roads. I can remember telling tourist who would call and ask about road conditions that if they could get out of Texas or Oklahoma, driving in NM would be easy. Driving in OK in icy conditions is not wise. It so freaks me out that I insist that Toby drive Jesse when the weather is bad. It is the mom in me. It is a fear in me. It is the wisdom in me.

Comment Questions

Alison asked me to describe some of the items my friend, Glenna, had collected on her travels to India, Malaysia, and the Middle East. Yes, there were paintings – mostly watercolors. There were several paintings depicting scenes from India, and there was one large Asian (China or Japan) painting that I was very impressed with. Glenna and her husband have also bought many paintings from people in the Duncan Art Guild including several paintings of mine and Jesse’s (mostly my cowboy paintings to decorate the "grand boys" room). Upon walking into the home, there was a huge chest (about the size of my kitchen table) with rough metal wheels. Glenna said the chest was an Indian dowry chest used to place a bride’s dowry inside and given to the groom. There were many cabinet type pieces of furniture with very ornate carvings. Everywhere there were wooden pots, clay pots, swords, scarves, masks, canes, nic-nacs, etc. all very artfully arranged. Both bedrooms had rod-iron beds in English style bought in India. In one bedroom there was a couch and coffee table with peacock type carvings – the couch looked sort of Grecian – very beautiful. There was a wooden baby bath and a baby’s chest, which was very interesting. Glenna had bought handmade linens and placed them in the chest. In the bedrooms, there were armoires and washstand style furniture. I should also mention that there were wall hangings, antique doors and windows used as wall art, rugs, etc. There was just too much to describe – I will have to go back with my camera. All just amazing!

Jo asked about the painting that I did while at Glenna's house. I would show you, but I am still not able to upload photos to my blog. Every now and then it will work, but mostly not. I have been working on an oil painting here at home and have taken pictures at different stages of the painting. I will post it when I can or maybe get Jesse to post them from work.

The weather here today is nasty. Sleet and ice cover everything. Toby and Jesse drove to town together. Toby reported back that the sleet actually made driving a little easier and they arrived safely. I plan on staying home and keeping warm today.

Weekend Report

On Friday, I joined three other ladies for a little watercolor painting and lunch. We met at the home of one of the ladies. She and her husband have only been in their home for two weeks – it was brand spankin’ new and quite gorgeous. She and her husband have lived overseas in India, Malaysia, and the Middle East in past years. Thanks to Halliburton, they were able to collect quite an assortment of items and furniture from their travels and have them shipped home. It was all very impressive. After touring the new house and oohing and ahhing over the collection, we broke in the new studio with some watercolor painting. Their new home overlooks Waurika Lake and the view was lovely even in the dead of winter. Over all, I had a great time, but I did stay longer than I intended. I met Toby for a last minute shopping trip to Wal-Mart for our supper with Lindsay and Shay. I called Jesse late in the afternoon to ask her to set out the steaks. I heard some under-her–breath grumbling about me not being home to clean house and get ready for our guests. As I hung up the cell phone, I snickered. I knew we had plenty of time before Lindz and Shay showed up to clean house and prepare supper – especially if Jesse was helping – all part of the plan. When I got home, she had done quite a bit of cleaning, and was quite the martyr-in-training. I snickered some more.

Supper with Lindz and Shay was quite wonderful and enjoyable. Toby grilled steaks outside. I roasted potatoes with little onions in the oven and sautéed mushrooms. Jesse made a nice salad and set the table. I had already prepared dessert that morning. It all came together quite nicely. Conversation was centered around Lindz and Jesse – what else is new – but lots of fun.

To answer a question from the comments, Jesse can cook very well. She likes to try new things and can knock out a great meal, but she is her father’s daughter. Since she has been working, her time in the kitchen has gone way down. We have an unspoken deal – if I cook, she does the dishes.

Saturday, Toby and I picked up the GGs and had them all day. They were good girls and enjoyable. GBN2 was a bit snotty, but she still did well. We took them home about 5 PM, Toby helped our son put in a new hot water heater. We were worn out and decided to treat ourselves to supper at a new Italian food restaurant in Duncan. We ate at Napoli’s, which was quite pleasant, or maybe it was the Chiante that made it so pleasant.

Odd Mother Out

Yesterday was a very warm day for January, but the wind blew for most of the day. Toby took a half-day so that he could get some chores done around here. Today is also supposed to be nice, but tomorrow a cold front will chill things up again. I expect on Saturday everyone will be at Wal-Mart or the mall – what Toby calls a "farmer’s day." In other words, when the weather is too cold, too hot, too wet, or too dry, farmers cannot work – so they all go to town. Local cafes will be full of farmers come Saturday morning. But today, which is supposed to be nice, they will be working.

Lindsay and Shay are coming to dinner tonight. I am looking forward to visiting with them, although I may be the fifth wheel. Jesse refuses to invite one of her other friends - evening out the number of people tonight. She says she will talk with Lindsay while Shay visits with Dad. Where does that leave me? I guess I will be the "butt-er in-er" or maybe just the butt. I do that very well. It is the martyr in me. Jesse says I will be cooking, which made my eyes squint at her.

I’m going to go paint with some girlfriends today. Gee, I sure hope I get home in time to cook dinner…

Professional Hairdresser Rant

My hairdresser was a bit distracted yesterday. She was in a conversation with the hairdresser across the hall when I entered the shop. She let me wait about five minutes before acknowledging that I was present - when I was standing about ten feet away. Personally, I think greeting your customer is important even if you finish your silly conversation after acknowledging the customer. A "be right with you" would have been nice. But I let that slide.

Her conversation, which of course I was privy to since I was standing a few feet away, was not stuff of rocket scientists or save the world rhetoric, but of fashion. She and the other dresser were discussing what they thought a preacher should wear while preaching. Apparently, one of the hairdressers had been to a cowboy church held at the fair grounds (probably during a rodeo). She said the preacher was wearing his spurs. The two women hairdressers made terrible fun of this as if the cowboy preacher was not very professional. My hairdresser even said she thought a preacher should always wear a suit. My hairdresser finally acknowledged my presence. As she came into her cubicle, she continued to laugh and make fun of the cowboy preacher and his spurs. "Why was he wearing his spurs? Do you think he just stepped off of his horse?" Being familiar with rodeos and such, I thought, "Well, yeah. He probably did just step off of his horse." But I let the comments slide.

About the time my hairdresser started cutting my hair, another hairdresser came into the cube and started up a conversation. This time the other hairdresser was on the phone with her father who wanted to book a vacation to Mexico. To save him from going to a travel agency, the two hairdressers were giving him information and advice about booking his trip online. Basically, there was a three-way conversation going on, and I was not part of it. I was watching my hairdresser whack my hair, rather than working her usual magic, while she explained which website to go to for a great trip to Mexico. I wanted to interrupt and ask "Aren’t you going to blend that hair in" but I couldn’t get a word in. Besides, she usually does a great job, and I assumed the finish product would be the usual. Wasn’t she the professional?

The conversation finally ended, and so did my haircut. From the front, my hair looked pretty good. She had forgotten that I like my hair rounded up toward my face, but I figured I could fix that when I got home. She did not show me the back as she usually does, but whisked the cape off and was finished. My friend, Beverly was her next appointment, and arrived about that time. I sat for a few minutes and visited with Beverly, but I was worried that I would be a distraction. Plus, the hairdresser did not sweep up my hair between customers. My mother would never have let that slide. You don’t want your customers walking in and tracking hair all over the place. If I could have found a broom, I would have swept the floor, but instead, I left.

When I got home, I looked in the mirror, got out my professional haircutting scissors, and snipped at the front of my hair. Then I got my hand mirror and took a look at the back. To let you know how it looked, when Jesse came home she said, "Who cut your hair? A blind butcher?" I can always count on Jesse to be blunt (pun intended).

Now what? I like my hairdresser. She has done great in the past. She is a beautiful young lady. She wears three-inch heels and funky clothes. Her makeup and hair are perfect and fashionable. Her shop is chic. She is a fashion follower – not necessarily a trendsetter. Her misuse of verb tense is a bit Okie, but I’ve heard worse. It is not the worst haircut I have ever had. It is just not a good haircut. I guess all hairdressers give a bad haircut now and then. It was her lack of professionalism when she seemed to think herself so professional and smart that really irked me - along with the bad haircut. I think I liked it better when she just cut my hair and did not converse so much. But she is just a hairdresser – not a rocket scientist. So do I go to someone new? Do I go back and let her try again? It is only hair - it will grow back.

Update: I have worked on my hair this morning. It is really not that bad, but I am still a bit disappointed in my hairdresser

Hair Styles

Do you ever wonder if Adam said to Eve, "Hey Eve, I made a comb out of a fishbone. Now do something with that mess of hair on your head"? And Eve replied, "Sure honey. While I am taking care of my hair, how about I take that knife you made from flint and hack off some your hair? It seems to be getting in your eyes when you take aim at dinosaurs." Eve probably used different grasses to tie her hair back for different occasions, "The kids are coming over for dinner tonight. Do you think this hemp looks good with my rabbit fur wrap?" At some point people must have been really creative thinking that if they used the fish comb, they could rat their hair and pile it up on their head and hold it with a tortoise shell comb or pins made from animal bone. Then someone got the bright idea to put powder in their hair – probably so they did not have to wash it often. Fortunately, someone wised up to realize that was not great either. At what point do you think shampoo was invented – when their hair reeked of mildew or they got tired of the greasy look? When did they decide that gray was ugly and discovered hair dye? I’m sure braiding the hair was a great invention and very practical, but when did it become a fashion statement. Hagar was probably jealous of Sarah’s beautiful braid. Maybe it was Joan of Arc that made short hair on women more popular. I don’t know how or why hair became important in our society, but it is a big part of who you are.

Maybe haircuts are just a natural phenomenon. I remember when Bo hollered, "Mom, she is cutting her hair!" Sure enough, Jesse had some little pink plastic scissors and had cut a big chunk out of her curls. According to my mom, I sat very patiently while my brother gave me a haircut – I hope if he got a spanking for that. I guess it is just something about holding scissors that makes you want to cut something – why not your hair? We women seem to be on a never-ending search for just the right haircut. We often find our perfect style, but for whatever reason, we change it.

Maybe it is just going to the beauty shop that women crave – being pampered – having someone else style your hair – lookin’ good. For me the beauty shop is like going home – the smells bring back great memories. I love it! Some women fret over getting their hair cut, but not me. My mother used me as her guinea pig for so long, that I realize it is just hair and it will grow back. You can change the color - even when things go bad and it turns chicken yellow. You should see my elementary school pictures through the years – I look like a different child in each picture with the same big grin as if I was lookin’ good.

Mom says that I barely had enough hair at two years old to scrape into a ponytail, but Dad insisted that my hair be pulled back even then. She said I sat quietly while she pinned my hair into pin-curls only to have me hide in a corner and remove the pins later. It seems funny that my mom would be a hair stylist, but most of my life I had long hair that was easily braided or put in a ponytail. Maybe that is why even now, I want to grow my hair out a little longer and be able to do the ponytail thang. Yet, hair still has to be stylish – such a dilemma. So today, I am going to get my hair cut so that I can grow it longer. Toby’s eyes roll back in his head while he tries to figure that out.

Inauguration Thoughts

I listened to the presidential inauguration this morning. Here are my first thoughts:

I was not impressed with Obama’s speech – maybe I had higher hopes than for someone to say American is a great country although it has been run into the ground, and thank God you elected me to revive the country – paraphrased of course.

I disliked the poetry – just a personal preference.

I thought the Saddleback pastor was full of himself.

I kind of liked the second preacher and his prayer, but I didn’t catch the his name.
Update: Toby just sent me a reference to Joseph Lowery to show me that who he was and that he is, and that he supports same-sex marriages. Obama's choice of Rick Warren, the Saddleback preacher caused lots of controversy due to his oppostition to same-sex marriages, while Preacher Lowery did not cause controversy. Still, I liked Lowery's prayer.

Aretha is always great.

The commentary on all channels sucked.

Fault

I was grumpy yesterday and it showed in the posts that I tried to write. Actually, I wrote a nice little memory, and then lost it to cyberspace, which made me grumpier. I’m hoping to have a better attitude today.

Last week when I kept GBN1, we met Toby and Jesse for lunch. GBN1 did not finish her chicken-tenders basket and Jesse did not finish her chicken fried steak. We put all of the leftovers in a to-go box, and I put the box in the car, and strapped GBN1 into her "favorite seat." We took Toby back to his office where GBN1 insisted that she get to go inside and draw a picture on Crewcraw’s white board for his birthday. Who could turn that down? She drew a wonderful picture of a "vegetable tree," which included herself in the tree and Ranger, the rat terrier, sitting at the base of the tree barking at her. She went around the cubicles meeting and greeting Toby’s coworkers. Then we took our leave. When we got to the car, we discovered that Ranger, the rat, had eaten her leftover lunch – all except for the French fries, which were scattered over the backseat. It made GBN1 mad. She gave me a very serious look and said, "It is your fault, Booboo! You should have paid more attention." Her anger and logic made me laugh, and I said, "You should have eaten your lunch at the restaurant when you were suppose to eat it." She was indignant and reminded me several times that it was my fault. I just laughed and told her that it did not matter now; her food was still gone no matter whose fault it was.

It is funny how when something goes wrong, our first instinct is to blame someone other than ourselves. It was Toby’s fault Sunday when I was getting ready for church. He should not have put his Right Guard can on my side of the dresser when I wanted to put a little hair spray in my hair.


On a different note:
I have the TV on this morning in the other room to listen to the presidential inauguration stuff. Robin from GMA just interviewed three of the original Tuskegee Airmen from WWII. I think those men are the coolest!

Only the Lonely

I’m having Hobby Lobby withdrawals. Toby is quaking in his boots. I am using the excuse that the oil in the Camry needs changing, and I must make a trip to Lawton. I invited the Junk Diva to go with me, but her Junk Hunk is home today. Last night I attended the kick-off/membership drive at the Art Guild all by myself. The meeting was held at a local art collector’s home. The collectors lived in NM back in the late 40’s and have some great pieces of art from some very famous Taos artists back in the day. Their home was amazing. Jesse was supposed to attend the meeting with me, but she opted to go with friends to some sort of Beatle's show in Lawton. Such is life. One of Jesse’s young men volunteered to go to the art guild meeting with me (be my date). That was nice of him, but then I would have to be nice all evening. If one of us was going to get to be a martyr, it was going to be me.

Ashley was the only student at art yesterday. I don’t mind. I like having her all to myself. Although when I got paint all over my face, she did laugh pretty hard. Next time she gets paint on her face, I may not tell her at all – paybacks.

Maybe I am having more than Hobby Lobby withdrawals. Maybe I am missing the party atmosphere of the holidays, the time spent with Jesse, etc. While talking to the Diva this morning, I invited myself to a party at her house. Well, actually I suggested she have a party and invite me.

I've done two watercolors lately, and I really dislike both of them. Hobby Lobby here I come!

Touching Stories

What is in a touch?

If you know me, you know how much I like young people. I am very capable of loving other people’s kids as much as I love mine - probably why I love teaching young people. During my teaching years, I especially liked the students who were difficult, or the underdog, or the one the other teachers had problems with – those kids were the ones that needed love and attention. The ones that did everything right were just fine – everyone liked them. No, it was the kids who were outcasts and outlaws, that I found most interesting. Although I am probably not the smartest or the best at English Lit or Grammar, I was a good teacher, because I cared for the kids. But every once in a while, a kid would come along that I had a difficult time liking. Abhor might be a good word for what I felt. It might be their attitude toward me, sometimes physical appearances played a part, or maybe it was a spiritual thing, but there were some students (just a few) that I really disliked. The few times this happened, I found it difficult to even want to be near the young person, but I refused to give into such feelings. I worked at liking all my students no matter what. I figured there was a mother who loved the kid, and so could I, but it did take work. I would start by standing near the kid during class. Then came the touch. I would make myself touch the young person – maybe a pat on the back or just a brush of the arm as I helped them with their work. It was amazing what touch could do. Soon I found that the repulsiveness I felt would fade away. My attitude would change and so would the student’s. A simple touch was a big factor.

Another touch story:
One time Toby and I were attending Aspencade, a fall arts and crafts festival in Red River. These events always brought people out of the woodwork. I happen to see two people who worked together, but were not a couple, standing together – nothing unusual about that. The lady was recently divorced. The man was in a longtime "live-in" relationship with another woman. But then the lady put her hand on the man’s shoulder and leaned over and whispered something to the man. She pointed at something going on and they both laughed. It was nothing – a simple gesture. It was everything. I turned to Toby and said, "Oh my gosh, they are a couple!" Toby gave me the "you don’t know that for sure so keep your mouth shut and don’t start any rumors." He was right, but there was something in the way the lady touched the man’s shoulder. The next week, it all came out without me saying a word. The man left his live-in lady-friend and moved in with the new lady. The touch gave it away.

Still another story:
When Jesse was about ten years old, she played soccer in Questa where we lived. I was sitting in the car watching soccer practice one afternoon. The kids were all lined up down the field waiting their turn to dribble the ball down the field and shoot at the goal. There was a kid behind Jesse who kept poking her, teasing her, and just generally messing with her while they stood in line. I was kind of worried about Jes, but then she turned and caught the kid's hand in her hand and bent him back to the ground. It was fast and furious and did wonders. The kid quit messing with her. She obviously had the right touch.

One more:
The other day, I saw one of Jesse’s young men touch her. It was a silly, friendly punch-to-the-shoulder-like-thing while they were laughing at some joke. But I knew it was more than that, and I thought, "Beware the touch! She will take you down."

I could go on and on with my touch stories. It is amazing what the human touch can do.

Family Prayer

Update on my animals:
The vet said that my cowdog, Rita, has congestive heart failure. There is not really anything we can do about it. Yesterday I was faced with a decision – either we could put Rita down then and there since she will not get better, or we could try giving her some lasix to nurse her along for awhile and see how she does. The other possibility would be to do nothing, but I knew that was out - I had to do something. I don’t do well with these sorts of decisions. Part of me wanted to just get it over with. I don’t want to see her struggle to live and be in any pain only to die anyway. On the other hand, maybe the lasix will pull some water off of her giving her more time and relieving the struggle. I worry about letting her live for a little while only to see her go downhill later. What if I don't get her to the vet in time and she suffers? What if Toby has to do the "putting down?" Those were my thoughts. I was a blubbering baby while watching "Marley and Me" and did not relish the thought of watching Rita be put down. Worse than that would be to watch her suffer an agonizing death if we did nothing. So I called Toby, and we took the middle road of trying to prolong her life if things went well. If they do not get better, we will have to put her down. And the cat, Rugen, is still gone.

A Funny Story to lighten the load:
We have a family prayer that my dad taught us as kids to say at meals. He got it from his dad. We call it the Barker Prayer, and we still use it - often saying it out loud together. One time when my brother and I were about six and seven years old, my dad asked my brother, Craig, to say the prayer at dinner. It had probably had been a while since we were asked to say the prayer, and Craig could not remember all of the words. Dad took him into the other room and spanked him. Then Dad came in and told me that I would be saying the prayer the next night and I had better be ready or I would get a spanking too. Let me tell you, I can still remember the panic and fear that set in knowing that if I forgot the words that I would get a spanking. I must have said that prayer over and over the next day practicing for the supper meal. I was so afraid of messing up and getting a whippin’. It turns out that I did fine. In fact, Dad probably forgot his threat, but I never did. It has become a family joke that if you mess up, you will get a spanking. Many times, someone has not been paying attention and said the wrong words. At the end of the prayer when everyone looks up, someone will say, "You’re getting a whippin’!"

The other night, Jesse and I were setting the food on the table for supper, when I asked her about something. She replied with something like, "You should have asked earlier." To which I imitated the line out of "El Diablo," in a very scruffy voice, "You should have asked yesterday." And Jesse and I started giggling at our silliness. About that time Toby started the family prayer. Jesse and I joined in, but she started that silent giggle thing, which made me start laughing silently too (head down, shoulders shaking). As Toby finished the prayer on his own with Jesse and I still laughing, he looked up and said, "You are both getting a spanking." It just made us laugh harder.

Just for your information: The movie "El Diablo" came out in the late 80’s on HBO when the kids were little. We watched it over and over. It is still one of my favorite movies next to "Silverado." "El Diablo" has some great lines – almost as good as "Princess Bride." The kids and I can almost quote the whole movie and often do quote it.

The Barker family prayer goes like this:
Thou art great.
Thou art good.
Father we thank thee for this food.
By Thy hand may we be fed
Give us this day our daily bread.
Amen.

Odds and Ends

We had a water leak out near the barn this past weekend. Sunday was a beautiful day to dig in the mud (Oklahoma clay - much like glue). Toby did the digging, while I corralled the GGs. Just before dark, my son and husband thought they had the leak fixed. They covered it back up with dirt only to have the pipes come apart with water pressure. Toby had to take yesterday morning off to re-fix the leak, which was not quite as warm and sunny as Sunday. We were without running water over night. Jesse abandoned us and spent the night with friends. Toby said he was sore from all the digging. I said I was sore from chasing GGs. Mine is always worse.

My six-toed cat, Count Rugen, is gone. Those dang coyotes are probably the culprits. There is hope that the cat is off catting around, but it is doubtful. Jesse and I are sad about the loss. My cow-dog is sick. I’m thinking it could be serious. This morning I will haul her to the vet. What is going on with my animals? When it rains, it pours…cats and dogs.

Jesse posted a forth installment of San Antonio photos. They may be the best yet. I wonder if she will post photos from Enchanted Rock State Park. Maybe if we all beg…

I have been working on a watercolor, but it is not great – certainly not blog-worthy. So far, I am not doing well on painting more. Nor am I exercising more and eating less, or using the computer less. So much for resolutions!

Donna

My childhood friend, Terry, and his mother came to RR every summer to stay with his grandparents in their wonderful old log cabin at the mouth of Bittercreek Canyon. As kids, we played all over that cabin and the meadow in which it set. It was a magical place and probably influenced my decorative style more than any place that I can remember. The living area was one big open room from the floor of the cabin to the ceiling of the second story. Even the walls of the bedrooms upstairs did not reach the ceiling and could be climbed over. The staircase was handmade out of rough-cut lumber, and it made two turns before reaching the balcony that ran the length of the cabin overlooking the living area. There were two big windows overlooking the meadow and letting in lots of light. I loved that cabin.

Terry’s grandparents were usually home, but spent their time in the back part of the cabin, which was a shed-like room that had been added on at some point (probably so that it could have a modern kitchen ang bathroom). During the day Terry’s mother, Donna, played bridge, and at night she danced at the Community House. She and her partner, Fred Roe, could cut a rug like no one else. I remember being in awe when they did the Salty Dog Rag. She was beautiful in her square-dance dress gliding over the floor in Fred's arms. Donna and Terry often picked my brother and I up taking us to the CH to dance. I often danced with Terry, but all the young boys had a crush on Kathy, my best friend. Terry and I were still big buddies. Those days playing at his cabin and out on the Island were great fun. The nights dancing at the CH were also special. Those friendships are still there, although we do not see each other often.

Terry’s mother, Donna, died this last week. Terry was an only child and I feel for him. I remember our times together and with his mother fondly. Terry’s grandmother, Mrs. Lowrance (Willie) is still alive at 103 and sharp as a tack. Terry has been looking after both his mother and grandmother. Of course, they raised him to be a good son, and they did well.

Neutral Ground

OU got the big chomp last night. Toby cheered for the Gators (he had similar feelings to those expressed by Buck) while I was pulling for OU. It was a good game - I did get that part right. Someone made an interesting point: There is an advantage to playing on your home field, so the teams of the Big 12 normally rotate their schedule to play each year at different fields. But OU vs. UT is played in Dallas on neutral ground. Is that fair to the other teams like TT who had to play in Norman this year? What if UT had played OU in Norman? Maybe UT would have beaten TT if they had been playing in Austin. What if...


I wanted to apologize if I offended any UT fans yesterday – that was not my intention. Although, I do admit to wanting to tweak you a bit (especially John). I know that fans everywhere can be obnoxious. Living in OK, I don’t have to deal with Gator fans on a regular basis, but OU fans can be nauseating. As for T-sippers, well, it has just been bred into me to dislike UT. You would understand if you had spent your life going to A&M games and family reunions at the same time. If you think I am bad, you should hear my uncles and cousins. We once had an incident at one of those games that prove all teams have their problem fans.

Back in the day when my big brother and I were both attending Texas Tech, our parents and young siblings drove out to Lubbock to the A&M vs. TT game. Some of my other relatives where there too, but we all had tickets to sit in different places around the stadium. Dad gave us instructions to meet back in front of the stadium after the game at a specific place. That year A&M beat TT. As I walked up to the meeting place after the game I saw my little brother perched on a railing grinning at me wearing his A&M cap. About the time I arrived, some female TT student walked by and slapped Pete’s hat off nearly knocking him off of his perch. I don’t remember what she said to him. I don’t remember what I said. I just remember being incensed that someone would do that to a little kid, and I made her pick up the hat and hand it back to him. Pete remembers it quite well. I won’t repeat what he remembers me saying, but the girl did pick up the hat and hand it to Pete with an apology. Isn’t that what big sisters are for?

Who Ya Root'n For?

Yesterday I painted with two ladies that I had never painted with before. Both were very fun and very talented, but both were fairly new to watercolor. I spent most of my time showing them some different color combinations and techniques. I did start a painting from a picture taken in San Antonio. If it works out, I will post it later. I don’t really know these ladies very well, and we spent a lot of time getting to know each other. At one point, one lady said she did not watch football at all and knew nothing about it. The other lady agreed. Then the first one said that everyone was talking about some "big game" coming up and she could care less. The second lady agreed.

Now there are a few subjects in this world that could care less about – one is taxes and the other is insurance (futures market takes a lot of concentration). I do feel that it is important to know a little something about many subjects. I read Buck’s hockey posts even when it makes my eyes cross, because I should know who is the best hockey team. You never know when you might get a chance to be on Jeopardy or get into a serious game of Trivial Pursuit. Without getting out my hammer, I had to explain to these ladies that this was an important game and there is a reason everyone is talking about it. Even if you are not a football fan, this should be one great game. I’m not a football nut, but I am a good Tex/Mex./Okie that does keep tabs on what is going on in the football world. If I took a football quiz, I may not score 100%, but I could do pretty darn good. I do enjoy attending football games, but I’m not crazy about watching them on TV unless I have a good book or some crocheting to do. But, if the game is really good, or really important, I am more likely to pay attention. Tonight’s game will be watched, and unless one teams runs off with the scoreboard, I will probably watch the whole dang game.

Not being a big OU fan, I have not decided whom to cheer for. I was thinking about cheering for the Gators, just because OU is almost as arrogant at UT, but I am an Okie now. It would be nice if OU won. Yet, I do have lots of respect for the Gators. Jesse is going over to a friend’s house to watch the game. Around here, this game is more important than the Super Bowl. Maybe I will cheer for both teams…maybe I will choose OU.

Lucky Man

Today is Toby’s 52nd birthday. He says it is his "lucky number" since it was his high school football number. I think he has been pretty lucky all along. Here is wishing you many more lucky years, dear!

I have been invited to paint with some friends today. Now to decide what to paint…maybe a San Antonio picture. This could be part of my plan to do more painting. By the way, Jes posted some more pics on her blog – very artsy. Here is another Jesse story: While eating out in SA, I was wrestling with a butter package that would not open. Jesse took it from me and tried to open it, too. After a few minutes of struggling, she said, "I think it is deformed." Long pause, "I mean defective." It is funny the words we choose and the meanings they have – connotation vs. denotation. While in SA, I was looking at some jewelry and said, "Here are some pretty bangles." Now where did I get the word "bangles?" Was it even the right word? Later we were in another store and there was a sign that said, "Bangles $3.00" Yep, "Bangles" was right. How did I know that?

San Antonio Photos

This is the big margarita that we drank on New Year's Eve. I don't particularly like this photo of myself, but I did think it was funny that the margarita matches my eyes - looks like I drank myself full. The second margarita photo was taken at La Margarita - it was a smaller drink, but more tasty. This one is for you, Buck. I love the night photos with the lights and reflections - taken with Jesse's camera. This photo was also taken on New Year's Eve at the carnival - Jesse always takes a fun picture. Here she is at the La Villita outside of Susan Carlin's art gallery.

I love her cheesy smile in this photo, which was taken at the Governor's Palace. We also took lots of photos in the courtyard, but they are very artsy or should I say for painting purposes later.

Here are two photos of the houses on King William street. Jesse and I love old houses and architecture.

And last, but not least, is the photo of Jes and I taken by Jes at Enchanted Rock. If you are wondering how I posted so many of these photos, well, I am at the public library using high speed internet. Jesse has some photos up at her blog too.

The Trip to SA in a Nutshell

I have already mentioned that Jesse and I did not make it to midnight on New Year’s Eve. I think the drive down to SA, the walking on the River and over to the carnival on La Villita, and the huge margarita were the factors in our tiredness. We awoke refreshed and ready to hit the town New Years’ Day. Having lived most of our lives in a resort town, we assumed SA would be awake and ready for all of the tourists on a holiday. We forgot to factor in the "land of manana" thing and the "National Hangover Day." At ten AM no one was up and at ‘em in SA except Jesse, me, and the homeless folk. You might remember my post, "Odd Folk" from our visit to Corpus Christie last year. It seems that Jesse and I attract homeless people. The first person we saw on the River in SA New Year’s morning was a homeless man who pointed out a strange water bird on the River. The bird was interesting, but so was the man with his collection of used cigarettes and bits of trash. He seemed friendly and harmless. After walking for a while, we emerged from the river to find our way to the Mercado thinking we would find some place open. Jesse had done some online reading on sightseeing in SA and had read about a museum. Someone had left a comment on the museum that said, "Stink like hell." It became our saying while in SA. As we walked along the downtown area of SA, there were lots of homeless people in doorways and hanging out on the streets. It was a bit unnerving, but then Jesse and I are not typically fearful. Only one person hit us up for money. One lady walked with us for several blocks, although, we tried to get away from her – not because we were afraid or she was bothersome, but because she "stink like hell." There were several places in downtown SA that fit that description. Maybe it is the water :)

We made our way to La Villita, which is an area similar to an old village that is now an artist community with lots of artist-type shops. Only a few places were open, but one of them was Susan Carlin, a friend of my blogger friend, Jo Costillo. Susan was very friendly, and we visited for awhile there, but her electricity was not working and she closed up and went home. We finally ended up at the Mercado to find that it was also closed on New Year’s Day. Fortunately, the Mi Tierra restaurant was open. Jesse and I found the place quite wonderful with the bright decorations and atmosphere. The coffee was great – I had several cups. Plus, we had breakfast tacos that were pretty darn good. After a brief stop at our hotel, we made our way back to the River and over to the Alamo. The crowd was thickening – I guess people finally woke up. We did the Alamo tour and then went to the River Mall for some Starbuck’s coffee. We decided to see a movie, "Bedtime Stories" which was fun. Then it was back to the River where we had supper and a Corona while we did some people watching.

The next day, we did more of the same, but more shops were open. We hit the Mercado and did some major souvenir shopping. I love the bright colors of the Mercado. It reminded me of our days in McAllen, TX, when we used to shop in Reynosa, Mexico. I bought lots of little things and had to buy a big bag to carry it all in. Actually I bought the bag, because they are just great bags – I used to have one we used for the beach. We had lunch at the La Margarita – the margaritas were the best. We also went back to La Villita and then over to a King William Street where there are lots of fancy old homes with historical markers on them. We took a gazillion photos. Later it was back to the River for supper.

Saturday we headed to Fredricksburg. Jesse and I enjoyed walking around, but the shops are expensive and had nothing we really needed. Jesse took some photos of the old shops before we moved on. Taking Bob’s advice, we drove over to the Enchanted Rock State Park. I was thinking we would drive by and see a big rock and walk around and head home. But the minute Jesse saw the Enchanted Rock, she said, "We’re climbing it!" And we did. There was a line of cars waiting to enter the park, which cost six bucks a person. It was great fun, although I do wonder how I get myself into such things – like Toby wanting to climb the mountain in Banff rather than taking the gondola. The Enchanted Rock was not difficult, but after walking SA for several days, my legs were already sore. I was determined not to whine, and I wanted to keep up with Jes. It was worth the effort. Someday, I would like to take Toby there – I think he would enjoy it.

We made it back to Duncan late that evening. The temps went from 83 while at the Enchanted Rock to 33 as a cold front blew into OK. There is no place like home. I have not been able to post pics on my blog, but I will keep trying.

Time with Jes

Most of you know how time consuming blogging can be. I struggle with spending too much time on the computer when I need to be spending more time with my art. I won’t say that the computer takes away my time with family, because if it is between family and computer, family is always better. Yet, I could spend more time taking care of my families’ needs – things like cleaning house, cooking meals, laundry, etc. Those are things that I never liked in the first place. I would use any excuse, not just the computer, to not do those things until I have to. Spending time with my family is one of the main reasons that I wanted to take this trip with Jesse, and I was pretty selfish about it. I didn’t mention our trip until the last minute (although the trip was pretty much last minute) because I did not want to take anyone with us. I didn’t want anyone to say, "Oh can I go too?" Our purpose in going to SA was not in going to see family and friends, but in doing something we don’t normally do and doing it together. My purpose was in just being with Jes – soaking up as much individual time with her as possible.

You would think that living in a tiny house that the three of us would get plenty of each other. And we do sometimes, but not so much for Toby and me. We rarely get tired of her - maybe it is an age thing. It is Jes that is always on the go. Jesse is a wheel – always turning, always rolling. We do have dinners together, mourning coffee times, TV shows that we both watch, and time just catching up, and other good quality times together. Yet, she constantly seems busy with work, church, and friends. Sometimes I miss her and just want personal time with her. That was my hope for this trip. I think I got my wish. We had a wonderful time. We didn’t have any "Oh my gosh" moments or "I can’t believe that happened" moments. No, it was all very peaceful and fun. Jesse and I both like people, we both like art, and we both like to explore. That is what we did.

Back to my point. Although I took my computer, I did not spend much time on it. Jesse took hers, too, but did not spend much time on hers either. I was not able to check my email on my laptop (more problems with Hughes.net). I wanted to post lots of photos while I had the chance(a good connection), but once again, I did not want to spend so much time looking, choosing, and moving pictures from one camera to the computer to the blog. Time consuming. I’m also behind on reading and commenting, but the time with Jesse and time exploring SA was good. Someday, a young man will come along and marry my daughter, and my time with Jesse will change. I want that for her, and I know that change will be for the good, but I want to absorb the time I have with her now. I want to make memories. "Do you remember that time in SA…" Yeah, I want those memories. And yes, I was selfish in not telling everyone that we were going.

I will tell more about the time in South Texas later. And I will try to post photos, too.

More San Antonio

Jesse and I have each been taking a gazillion pictures with our cameras. Most of the ones of me are on her camera. Posting pics is tricky - moving photos around from computer to camera and such. It can be done, but it is time consuming and Jes is difficult to pin down. She is not the dedicated blogger that I am :) Here is a photo of her at Starbuck’s – we needed a pick-me-up. We hit the Mercado this morning and bought lots of souvenirs to take home to the GGs and such. We ate lunch at La Margarita and we drank margaritas – the best! Here is another pic just because I can post pics from this connection and I cannot from mine at home.

San Antonio

Jesse and I are in San Antonio enjoying the River Walk and the weather. It has been very pleasant with temps reaching 70. Today it is suppose to be up to 80. We arrived on New Year's Eve and hit the River first thing after checking in. We Had a bite to eat and then drank a big margarita. It was a mistake. The margarita was wonderful, but it gave us that relaxed sleeping feeling. We walked around and went over to La Villita where several bands had set up along with some carnival rides and games. We danced to some band that was old time rock-n-roll. By 9 PM we were bushed and ready for bed. It was beginning to be very crowded. Although we were having a great time, we headed back to the hotel and to our beds. I heard the crowd at midnight, and thought, "Happy New Year to all." and went back to sleep.

Life with Jesse is never dull. Her word confusion always cracks me up:

Jes: The rig is up!

Me: What?

Jes: I mean the gig is up.

Me: You have been working for Halliburton too long.

After drinking that huge margarita, Jesse said her legs felt numb as we started walking down the River. She reached to take my arm for support and said, "I need a flapper. I mean a flipper."

Yesterday we did some shopping and site seeing. I will tell more about the experience later, but I did want to mention to Jo that we met Susan Carlin and had a very nice time at her gallery. More later.