Don’t Pick Up Hitchhikers

 Good morning from beautiful New Mexico. Here I am on my daughter’s brown sofa mulling over my future.  Currently things have not gone according to plan and major adjustments must be made.  Last year at this time I was working full time, loving my job and life in general.  Looking forward to retiring in 4 or 5 years. Now I am on continuous oxygen and unable to work or even drive. Well, I might could drive but I chose not to as to error on the side of caution. I find my thinking is sometimes somewhat wonky. 

Apparently I have long haul COVID-19. This is what Doc’s tell me.  My lungs were damaged and it will take a few years for them to heal.  So far my health just gets worse so I am about ready for the “getting better” part to start.  I’m sure I’m getting better I just don’t feel it yet.  While I’m getting better I cannot go into a holding pattern. Life goes on and I want to make the best of it. 

I never thought I would be one of those old people on the portable oxygen commercials.  Just walking around the house with my 20 foot long tube is an adventure.  I look back sometimes to see a trail of hitchhikers the oxygen hose has picked up.  Kinda funny except every little thing causes me to be more short of breath so putting those things back is difficult.  Like it wears me out and I have to sit down and rest awhile.  Good Grief!!   I have got to get better.  

Who wants to be my driver?  I figure I will need a few so I don’t wear anyone out.  I have a car!   

Life is full of change. So it goes. kisses

steffie

Hand Out/Hand Up

I Made It !!

Happy Sunday, church day, first day of the week day. I am sitting on my brown sofa looking out my front door. Grass is green, trees are full of new leaves and if I lean way back a glimpse of my Alovera Cactus that froze this Winter is blooming. 

This is the last Sunday of my 50’s. Last month I looked it up and the article read 60 starts ‘elderly’.  Ohhh the dread. How could I be this old? Then I thought of Tom and Brenda and Robert and so many other friends gone too soon. I think of them often. Maybe too often but such is the life of someone who lives in their head. 

Just last week I paused to give an 18 wheeler trucker extra room to make a turn on a narrow rural road. The driver threw me a big wave and I burst out ugly crying. I was not expecting all that emotion but Tom drove 18 wheelers and I guess I wished it was him waving at me. He was all heart that guy. 

My sweet friend Brenda will forever dance in the moonlight of a beach bonfire in my mind. And not a week goes by something doesn't happen that I would love to share with my Robert. Dorinda, she called us birthday twins. Laurie and I drinking peppermint tea in her last days. Sigh ~So many more. 

God knows how many days we have but we do not. So I’m gonna keep making plans and dread elderly NO more. After all, I made it!! 

Time marches on and so it goes. kisses 

Sheila

 Sheila was a roommate for most of 2019.  Younger than me in years, decades ahead in life experiance she was quite a character. After confiding her life story I understood some of her mental health issues.    Despite sporatic formal education she was smart as a whip and possessed an endearing childlike curiosity.   You couldn’t help but like her.   Out of the blue, she stopped by last week. She had moved to Flour Bluff to live with her sister but kept her Doctors in San Antonio. Insulin-dependent Diabetic her health issues along with rough and rowdy living lent a ruggedness to her beauty.

  I had been worried because her sugar was way out of control in January. She said she ended up in the hospital in a diabetic coma. Doc told her Dad she wouldn’t make it but here she was 7 months later sitting in my living room. "Sheila, you let your hair go white! I like it."  I told her admiringly. She was petite, dressed in cute summer shorts and tank. 

Sheila, "Oh thanks" as she leaned forward and grabbed her knees like an awkward teenager, combed her fingers through her shoulder length hair, rolled her eyes, and looked down. Curling her lips into a controlled sincere smile. 

She looked good but as usual, her anxiety and general unease hung in the air between us. It always made me feel sad for her. She wore suspicion like an overcoat living in various stages of survival mode. 

“Well, Sheila I guess it wasn't your day,”  I said in response to her crisis in January. 

“Nope, it wasn’t my day” Sheila responded in her southern drawl. She tilted her head and with a giggle asked, “Do you know where I left my teeth?”   

Bless her heart. I handed them to her and she was gone. Distracted by a friend that had pulled up in my drive. I watched them talk through my kitchen window thinking she would come back inside. Next thing I knew her car was gone. Just like Sheila to leave without a goodbye. 

I received the news thru a text message from her niece two days later.  Last night Sheila passed away in her sleep. Such a shock. I immediately felt grateful for our last visit. I feel blessed God put her in my path.  I especially am grateful Sheila loosened up her overcoat enough that we could be friends. My loss is heavens gain. 

Casualties of a Storm

When I was in 6th grade one of my favorite friends lived in a white clap board rent house. Built long ago with huge split paine windows covered with home made thick screens and peeling paint. I thought it was wonderful. The two bedroom, one bath sat off  Laguna Shores Road on a piece of land that jetted out into the shallow lagoon.  We would sleep next to her open windows in our baby doll pajamas. Nightly gulf breeze naturally set on 70 and that wonderful Laguna smell only locals appreciate. A few blocks and grassy fields inland my world was sticker burrs and mosquito bites. Her yard was sandy beach and water birds. I thought she lived in paradise. 

After hurricane Cecila hit not only did her house wash away but the whole jetty disappeared. I never saw my friend again.

Looking back I realize her Mom was a single parent scrapping by as a waitress. She probably could not find an affordable house after that so they moved away. My friend sent a letter years later saying an Aunt in Ingram, Texas had finished raising her and she was doing okay.

That was over 40 years ago but seeing pictures of Hurricane Hannah and a flooded Laguna Shores Road brought it all back. Liz, all arms and legs with her long yellow hair, faded splash of freckles across her sweet face. Her Mom looking tired in a snug, white polyester, waitress dress, sandy blond locks in a loose bun. Praying the tips in her pocket would cover the bills. A casualty of the times this was before state mandated child support and so many things young women take for granted now. 

I hope Mrs. A caught a break and Liz has her own piece of paradise. Time marches on and so it goes. kisses

 

 

What The Night Brings

I am loving the cool weather. But Spring has sprung and I am all to familiar with her waltz across Texas, over too soon like a Bob Wills ballad. Bluebonnets, Black Eyed Susans and me, will soon wilt under triple digit heat.

I lost another friend recently. He would drunk call me after wooing beach babes with his guitar at surf side pubs and bars. Forever young and full of fun. Forever a cool surfer dude.  Me, the forever night owl. I will miss those midnight texts followed by a call.  Full of melancholy and mischief he was the real deal.  I loved every minute of his crazy talk or the occasional serenade. A night owl can appreciate such things-things that go on after midnight in the moonlight while others slumber.

The sudden loss  full of change and uncertainty. It has been difficult for me to give up trying to understand. It is okay to let go and be comfortable in the not knowing. I think it is true youth is wasted on the young.

Most recently my energy is better spent paying attention to being authentic, genuine, real, bona fide. Have you ever noticied how many times you laugh at stuff you do not think is funny? I have made it a point to stop doing that. The result has caused me to be more mindful and worth the effort.
I do not have insomnia. I am a night owl. I always have been. I love animals and I like to fish but I don't like to catch anything. Because pulling that hook out of  tender flesh has got to hurt and the poor fish was just looking for a meal himself. I love dogs. I have a dog but he is huge and I think dogs should have a bed on the floor-in the house. Sofa's are for people. Just so you know the real me.
Be authentic. Be yourself. The world will adjust.
Time marches on. So it goes. kisses

My dog on my brown sofa. 

Worst Day of First Grade

The first Sunday of February 2019 will soon be dawning. Midnight fog will magically rise and transform into clouds.  Unlucky vapors too close to the ground melt into dew, forever earth bound.

I was in first grade in 1967. School was pretty confusing till about 6th grade but I do have a few vivid memories. About the worst occurred early one day before school started.
The first and second grade classrooms were in a big U with the gym and school offices in a separate building in front and an asphalt patio in the middle. Kids would arrive at school and run around on the asphalt till the bell rang when teachers materialized out of nowhere at the proper door.
One morning I was lolly gagging on the sidewalk waiting for Mrs. Townsend to appear when a boy from my class ran up to me. I do not remember his name but I can picture his face and hear his jibber jabber which made no sense. He acted like a feral child and probably needed to be in a special classroom. But here he was standing right in front of me. I shook my head and tried to tell him I didn't understand. When fast as a flash he grabbed the front of my dress and ripped it all the way open-from collar to hem.  Then proceeded to point, jumping up and down laughing, jibber jabbering like he was proud to violate me in such a manner. I was shocked and shaken, deeply humiliated and he left bloody scratches on my chest which hurt. A crowd gathered around us and a few of the boys joined in pointing and laughing. My 6 year old mind was racing.  I was trying my best to hold my dress together not knowing which way to turn. An adult finally stepped up and I will never forget, all she said was,  "Let's get you to the office. Maybe they can safety  pin your dress."
Pin up my dress?? As if it had casually spontaneously combusted!?   I wanted to disappear and never come back to school. Why wasn't she fussing at those laughing or asking me to point out the perpetrator so he could be punished?  Parading me across the square was just too much to bear.
The Principal's secretary was kind and empathetic. Finally some relief. She safety pinned  my dress and cleaned the scratches. She asked me what happened. I am so grateful for her concern which felt like a warm blanket giving me back some of what I had lost. I believe she is why that was a bad day and nothing more.
I'm thinking that was the worst day of first grade. I hope the boy got the help he needed.
Have a happy Sunday.
kisses

Shiver

Billy Mata and The Texas Tradition ai Quihi Gun Club

It is the 4th Saturday of the month and I should be two-stepping at the Quihi Gun Club to a real live country western band. Authentic country music only. Recent radio pop frowned upon as an abomination. Tradition thrives in Quihi, Texas where Bob Wills is still the king and Billy Mata packs the dancehall with his Western Swing.
Midnight finds me lounging on my brown sofa. Flannel teal colored pajamas for warmth as I contemplate my future. Disquisitive as to why the digital wall thermostat reads 70 F but my hands feel like ice. Must be the lingering humidity seeping and settling a chill in my bones. Jack Frost has made himself at home this year.

My mind wanders to a tragic, oh so sad story from Michigan where freezing temperatures dropped to -12 F.  A forever nurse friend called me heartbroken. A sweet and gentle female coworker never made it home after her evening hospital shift. She was found frozen beside a church. Hand print bruising on her arms was the only sign of trauma. An abusive boyfriend is suspected of pushing her out of his car. How long can one survive in such extreme cold? I shiver as the thought crosses my mind-I bet he knows.



It's turning out to be a long cold Winter. I hope the birds fair well.

The Fragrance of Grandma's House

For we are to God the fragrance of Christ among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing. 

2 Corinthians 2:15 NKJV

I can still remember the smell of my MeMaw's house.  Like cozy familiar warm happiness.  The same can be said for my Granny's bedroom and her famous Fibber McGee closet, mostly filled with faded fine linens she was saving for a special occasion.
 A generation later I pause at rare and random moments when a familiar fragrance from those days breeze by, my memory sparks so vivid I am transported back in time.  If only I could make it last with all the comfort and warm feelings but the scent quickly fades and I am left melancholy. How can an essence from so long ago spark such emotion?
What is it about Grandparents and their particular scent? A combination of spices and musk peculiar to them.
My Mother sent me home with a stuffed Santa and Mrs Clause that have survived many Christmases in the Avery household. My youngest grandson Max spotted them right away during a recent visit. I told him they are from when I was a little girl. He picked both of them up and buried his face as hard as he could in the old cloth dolls. His cute little nose smushed flat. He inhaled as deep as a little boy possibly could, closing his eyes, his face  reflecting pure bliss - "Grandma" he exclaimed!  He is only 7 years old and has not been down to see my Mom in over a year. But Grandma's smell has already imprinted cozy feelings of Grandma love.
I think that is something pretty special.
Time marches on and so it goes. kisses

Paper Spotted With Time

Sitting on my brown sofa in the early morning hours of the first Monday in 2019, I am sorting through keep sakes my Mother just handed  me from my childhood. So many memories. I can't believe she saved all this stuff.   A whole stack of kindergarten artwork.  Valentines from my 6th grade class. A letter I wrote home from my first Greyhound Bus trip to Tulsa, Oklahoma with my Granny in 1975. Things long forgotten come flooding back,  These bits of paper, yellowed and spotted with time are pieces of where I came from, a glimpse of  my developing personality, values and apparent lack of talent in freehand drawing and coloring within the lines. Still true!

The Kindergarten worksheets revealed I only wrote the first 4 letters of my name, with a backwards S.  No wonder Adriana Salinas had to save me the first day of First Grade as I was unsure which name printed on the desks was mine. I wrote about that humiliation in a previous blog. But now looking at what Mom saved for me I was never taught my whole first name in Kindergarten. This explains a lot. So no need at 57 to feel ashamed of my first day of first grade inadequacy. I never expected that revelation after all these years, what a relief. I can't wait to tell Mom and thank her for her organizational skills and thoughfulllness in storing my youth in boxes and envelopes for fifty years. Do the 'other Mothers' do this?

More memories to come. kisses

I found all my 6th grade buddies Valentines cards. We were a fun crew and stuck together. I wonder if they remember me?
Lynn Gourley, Veronica Smith, Melissa Hughes, and Kathy Thomas.

Kindergarten Art-my signature on spilled paint.

Perspective & Context

 I can talk a lot but I often feel I am not the best communicator.  Fortunately I have accumulated friends over the years who decipher my ramblings with relative ease. Mostly they are the ones I grew up with so our perspectives on things are similar. On the flip side it takes effort for me to decode the conversations of more recent friends and acquaintances. Plus we are all getting old so who knows if anyone is making sense anyway? If you don't keep up with trends and television advertising casual exchanges become difficult to put in context. A good example of this occurred last Saturday.

Richard was driving me home from the Raye Theatre in Hondo. We had just watched Aquaman. I make myself sit through movies of this sort occasionally because it makes Richard happy.  He is such a nice man and there is something to be said for a reliable, handsome cowboy to spend every Saturday evening.

So we are bouncing along Highway 90 between Hondo and Castroville in his Chevy truck. It is a chilly night. The heater is on and the fan makes a funny noise. We were both unusually tired. Me from just getting home from New Mexico and he from extended family responsibilities. We were discussing, I thought, Aquaman when he started babbling. I was not catching every word over the truck noises. I heard Transformers, bumble bee car and something about 'the other movies '.  I wondered for a minute if he was having a small stroke or something and started calculating how I would pull the truck over should he completely give out on one side. But he stopped talking and we made it to my house without further incident.

Next day I am visiting with some young people who start discussing the new Bumblebee Transformer movie coming out. Ohhh It hits me! That's what Richard was talking about he was making sense after all. Hearing this put it into context.

I was thinking how important not to quickly judge others, situations etc. on my limited perspective and how easily things taken out of context cause wrong impressions. Something I want to stay mindful of as times change but I feel the same. Talk less. Listen more. On and on and so it goes. kisses

I'll See You On The Other Side Lewis Gooch

 I am grateful to have called you friend. The world is a little less interesting. You touched so many with your genuine kindness while your mischievous wit, easy going spirit and honest open heart made followers of us all. I marveled at your world travels and will miss your stories, your crazy adventures, your beautiful courage. 
I miss you already Lewis Gooch. See you on the other side or maybe another life, however the journey continues. On and on and so it goes. 

Lewis Gooch
February 10, 1941 - December 28, 2018

God and Dog

God and Dog     http://www.andiesisle.com/GoD_and_DoG.html    Click the Link for video song

I am so thankful for cooler weather on this blue sky Sunday after Thanksgiving. I don't like it much when the heat and humidity of Summer hang around past curfew causing conversations questioning, is Winter just running late or is she being held hostage by global warming? I'm not so sure the seasons care about our obsession with orderly and consistent predictable weather stability. I believe the earth has had its own rhythm since God spoke it into motion in the beginning. The one constant through time is change.

A friend sent me a link to a sweet song that touched my heart and rings so true I want to pass it along to you. God and Dog - by Wendy Francisco.  She has a cool Facebook page also. You can click the link above to watch the short video. When my kids were growing up we were blessed through the years with a loyal, happy family dog. What a treasure. Dogs can be protectors, and helpers but mostly they are willing and eager companions that turn on your heart light. You will never feel alone if you have a dog. When Daisy crossed the rainbow bridge our entire family mourned. But as hard and sad as it was losing her I am grateful for all she brought into our lives. In the beginning there was God. He knew then we would need a dog. On and on and so it goes. kisses

Me & Daisy

Just Know

It struck me the other day how I can look at my girlfriends and just ‘know’ what they need to hear to fix their latest breakup, patch up a fuss or get to the root of issues with their Mother.  While I stumble thru life in general finally resorting to the self-help aisle at Barnes & Noble.  Now relationships are only the tip of the iceberg.  Since the first day of First grade in Mrs. Townsend’s classroom when Adriana Salinas helped me find my own desk, (I have been in awe of Adriana ever since), I have wondered how come I missed the class, that link of DNA, or the secret meetings that let everyone else know ‘what to do’, ‘where to go’, ‘how to behave’, ‘what to wear’, just on and on cause I never seem to Just Know.  The hugest example of this is I always wanted to be a nurse, RN specifically.  Since I felt like everyone else in class would already ‘know’ what to do and nursing is such an important job I did the following- First I took the Nurse Aide course at my local community college.  Now keep in mind this was 30 years ago when nurse aides could be trained on the job.  No way was I to be caught off guard in nursing school not able to make the perfect mitered corner.  Then I applied for LVN school and studied like I was trying to get into Harvard.  I was accepted and graduated the very next year.  I have been an RN for over 20 years now.  I have never regretted taking the extra time to get in but I would not recommend it to anyone else.  It really is not necessary as they teach mitered corners in the first semester but hey, now you ‘KNOW’.  Have a super awesome November day.  kisses 

Meet Ya At The Raye

Happy church day, start of a new week day, finally cool weather, sunshine Sunday.  Hope you are feeling blessed and productive.  I love Saturday movie night at the Raye Theatre in Hondo, Texas.

I am not a fan of horror movies but the Raye has one large screen, is local ( the next closest theatre is at least a 50 mile round trip) very reasonable admission rates and a concession stand with prices that allow you to enjoy movie buttered popcorn and a drink without taking out a bank loan. October being ghost and goblin month of course the most recent Halloween movie is showing. It does not take much to rattle me so no surprise I screamed once... sorta loud. I get frustrated with this kind of movie script. Like seriously folks, you characters in the movie. This is a series of sequels. Did you NOT see the previous now on home video 1, 2 or 3? Have you learned nothing? Why do you continue to look in the closet? Leave the safety of your locked car on a lonely dark road? Whyyyy.

Anyway you just never know what fun prop the Raye will have in their lobby. This hometown movie house goes the extra mile. I thought it would be fun to take a picture with this colorful clown. So I stood real close and start talking to it because I think I am so funny. Well all of a sudden Mr. Clown lights up and starts moving! And see that hand? Is he trying to get fresh with me?

O

"Back off Bright Eyes! None of that on the first date."
I'm glad I grew up with the Shriner's circus clowns full of silly shenanigans so IT only startled me a bit. I think he may be trying to strike up a conversation.
Happy Halloween. kisses

Barber Shop

Lee the Shoeshine Man

 Looking at Facebook just now, as is common for me at 5 am, when a page with pictures of old Corpus Christi, Texas brought back memories of Schatzel Street and my PawPaw's barber shop. He leased a prime downtown spot during the sixties not far from the Nueces County Courthouse.  It was in a dignified fancy brick storefront, back when architects designed buildings with character and class.  I googled his name and Schatzel Street and discovered it was called Jimmie Adams Barber Shop.  My little sister and I were allowed to get on the city bus in front of Paw Paw and Granny's house on Gollihar,  by ourselves, and ride it downtown to the shop.  Robin had this adventure much more often than me as she was Paw Paw's favorite and I didn't much like doing it anyway.  I was too afraid to pull the string letting the bus driver know to stop and let me off and Paw Paw would fuss at me for looking at the girly magazines he left out so his all male customers would not get bored while they waited their turn. I was fascinated by those naked women and wondered if they were normal.  Lolly, the manicurist with her jet black bee hive hair do, huge eyelashes, blue eye-shadow and always a mini skirt told Paw Paw to leave me be as I needed to know about growing up-or something like that.  This did not go over well with my Paw Paw and was probably one of the many reasons I was not his favorite-always the little rebel.  Anyway, watching Paw Paw's employees was my greatest entertainment.  Girl talk with Lolly was fun but she stayed pretty busy perched on her stool in front buffing lawyers fingernails to a professional pink shine. There was a very thin, tall young barber, with perfectly slicked back hair-almost in a duck tail, that had the first chair. I thought he and Lolly made eyes at each other occasionally.  Paw Paw ran a pretty tight ship so I never witnessed much chitchat between them.  Turns out I was right because a few years later  Paw Paw grumbled about how that barber had borrowed money from him and never came back and neither did Lolly.  He felt this was no coincidence and they must have skipped town together.

Granny gave Lolly the benefit of the doubt and was concerned for the wife the young barber left behind.  I thought the whole story was quite exciting and pictured Lolly and Thin Man in matching trench coats and fedora hats traveling incognito to a new life in a big city far away.  Don't ask me why.  Just my little kid  mind and too much Dick Tracy and Brenda Star I guess.

A large mirror ran the length of the wall behind the three stations giving some depth to the narrow shop.  Opposite the high dollar adjustable barber chairs and towards the back of Jimmie Adams barber shop was the shoeshine stand attended by Lee the shoeshine man.  He had a fancy set up Paw Paw had bought from a hotel. When he was not busy he would shine my brown leather penny loafers and talk to me the entire time.  What a treat!  A few times I remember Lee stopping by Paw Paw and Granny's house after church.  He and his wife still in Sunday best as were we.  They were entertained outside on the covered cement patio which offered much more space than my grandparent's small living room. It all felt very friendly till one Sunday Paw Paw was showing off his prized roses to Lee so Granny wanted to make a bouquet of her beloved sweet peas for his wife.  Granny asked her to follow into the kitchen. I was puzzled when wife was leery about entering the house and asked Granny, "What will Jim say?" Granny waved her on saying it was okay.  So wife followed.  Next, things got really confusing. It seemed like Paw Paw appeared out of nowhere yelling and cursing and literally chased wife out of the house.  I will never forget that sight and trying to figure out what went so terribly wrong. Lee was apologizing and kind of bowing to his boss as he and wife retreated to their car and made a hasty escape.  Next my grandfather yelled at Granny asking what she was thinking letting that woman in the house.  Granny yelled back.
"Jim, you are going to hades for such behavior."  And she kind of trembled all over and did her Granny style mumble under her breath, shaking her head and clicking her tongue in a severe way I only witnessed a few times in my life. Granny was a good Christian thru and thru. It would be many years before Paw Paw felt God's hand on his life and experienced a total change of heart.

Well that's all I remember about that - oh and Mom trying to explain to us on the way home that Paw Paw grew up in a time where black people were not allowed in white people's houses. But not every one felt that way and Granny's family never did.  Neither did MeMaw (Dad's Mom), and now days most people did not worry about such things and we should pray for PawPaw.

 Good Grief!! What a ruckus.  I actually have this one picture of Lee with me and my sister, Cheryl part of the Tulane gang, my grandparents and Mom.
The building on Shatzel has survived the many changes of downtown Corpus with only minor face-lifts. The barber shop had a total of 3 owners thru the years. PawPaw was the middle one and he sold it when he was diagnosed with colon cancer that required multiple surgeries in the mid 1970's. He recovered and cut hair for several more years from home. I am not sure exactely when the last owner sold out. But once I drove by and it looked like a surf shop. The steps to the open upstairs area where PawPaw kept a cot to catch a nap on slow days were still there. I pictured his cot and remembered how the barber shop smelled of hair tonic, shaving cream, Vitalis and Old Spice with an uner tone of musty old building and leather shoes.
If those walls could talk!  kisses

Schatzel St  Paw Paw's barber shop what it looks like now

As Long As You Can Find the Bathroom

Dark rain clouds have hovered over and around my rural Texas neighborhood for a solid week  scattering sprinkles to downpours causing much mud and muck, filling up creeks,  leading to the inevitable mosquito invasion.  I am thankful for the much needed rain.  I am super duper thankful it has cooled things off a bit but those mosquitoes need to go to the devil!  They are evil misery on wings.

late 1960s'

I was just looking through old pictures and I found this of Mom (in the hat) us three kids and my Great Aunt Marie spending a day on Padre Island.  I do not remember this particular event but I do have fond memories of my Aunt Marie. She and my Granny lost both their parents when they were young children (in the early 1900s) so spent their youth growing up with grandparents and then various cousins. It always sounded to me like the family sort of took turns with the little orphan girls.  It also seemed they were a good Christian family full of love and kindness because that is how my Granny and Aunt Marie were, full of grace and dignity.  They both had a very strong faith in God and believed in the power of prayer.  Aunt Marie lived in Tulsa, Oklahoma while Granny and our family lived in Corpus Christi, Texas.  I remember Granny mailing lots of letters as calling long distance was saved for special occasions back then. Aunt Marie was very hard of hearing so wore a hearing aid.  Her 'ears' as she called it, had a large, very uncomfortable looking ear piece with a long wire connected to a metal box she kept in her bra.  I was so fascinated with the way she spoke on the phone.  I am talking about a real telephone handset from back in the day not a cell phone.  Anyway, she would turn it sideways and put the receiver to her bra and the speaker to her mouth. It was hard for my little kid mind to understand how she could hear through her brazier.  Us kids had to be a little careful what we said under our breath as Aunt Marie had learned to read lips!   She had much difficulty but never complained and made a joke out of everything.  It was so great to be around Aunt Marie.  She found the positive and humor in all things. Once after me and Granny had visited a whole week, we were packing up to catch the Greyhound back to Texas. Aunt Marie was so surprised and upset. She said, "Why are you leaving?" "You just got here yesterday?"
I realize now she had early dementia or forgetfulness. She realized it to some degree and would tell us,  "The doctor says as long as I can eat and find my way to the bathroom not to worry".  She would belly laugh, throw her arms in the air then bend and slap her thighs.  A grand Aunt Marie gesture I remember well.
I wish my kids could have known her but only the rocks live forever.  Hopefully my memory holds out for me to tell them all these stories.  So it goes. kisses

Sisters-Marie & Sarah

A Mother's Heart

1982

Sunday morning sunshine will soon and suddenly rush through my bedroom windows like an unwelcome party crasher.  No slumber for this over thinker, midnight writer, night owl.

My 3 adult children have been adults so long I now have an adult grandchild.  This fact matters not to my Mother's heart.  I still picture each of them as my little ones.

When my oldest daughter had surgery last month and arrangements were being made for me to be there Tosha asked, "Mom should I put the  trundle bed in Evelyn's room?"

"Oh, for Paul?"  I replied. 

Paul is Tosha's husband and of course the

trundle was for me.  She laughed as she has been a Mother long enough to understand the feeling.

So I have a daughter with children old enough to have Mother feelings like her Mother.  Apparently this is an on going process and somewhat more involved than I had anticipated. My Granny and my MeeMaw made it look so easy.  I wish I would have paid more attention or that they could have lived forever.
Time marches on, Life is full of change, on and on and so it goes.

47 Year Wait

Happy church day, good morning Sunday, it's gonna be a beautiful day I just know it. April showers bring May flowers as the rhyme goes but apparently no one told the Bluebonnets, Indian Paintbrushes, Buttercups plus lots more. Our Texas roadsides, Rest Areas and rolling pastures are covered in natures endless variety of fragile geometric shapes decorated in brilliant bright primary colors, or soft pastels . Fibrous green stems hold tight while long shapely leaves, like arms do their best to stabilize God's handy work.  So looking at a hillside the ground is various shades of green with a continuous patchwork, similar to a well make quilt, of grouped wild flowers swaying and bowing as birds make bird noises in natures animated symphony. The wonderful world of color but not Disney.

When I was in fifth grade my best friend was Cindy Wilks. We were kindred spirits and instant friends. I don't remember how we met and only hung out that one school year. I think she moved away in junior high and I have not seen hide nor hair of her since.
Night Owls and a bit of a running wild stresk we both had parents that kept us in check. I loved spending the night at Cindy's house. We would dance and sing along to Donny and The Osmond Brothers 33 1/3 album on Cindy's portable record player and talk endlessly about boys. I was full grown by fourth grade( so embarrassing) but Cindy had not gotten her growth spurt yet and she was really little. I have a picture of us at my 11th birthday party and I looked like a giant.  By junior high that all changed-Thank God.
Anyway, it is so funny the stuff you remember! One  night we were up watching 'the late show'. That is what movies were called in the 1960's and early '70's that came on after the 10 o'clock news. Television was still mostly black and white and signed off every night with the National Anthem. No 24/7 programming like it is now. 3 network channels, ABC, CBS and NBC. Black horizontal and vertical lines rolling through the picture were a constant nuisance requiring the use of 'fine tuning' knobs or adjusting the rabbit ears antennae on top often with added foil as a signal booster. If you had a Mom like mine who was somewhat suspicious of this new technology and prone to they say 'isms' you were forced to watch the 6-12 inch screen a full six feet across the room as 'they say' the television emitted dangerous radiation and was only safe to watch six feet away.

So there we were, past midnight, in our babydoll pajamas, lounging in the radiation free zone watching Friday night's late show titled "Westward The Women".
Maybe we had the television turned a little to loud. We were totally into the movie on this adventure. It was a western about women, specifically mail order brides, traveling in 1850 by wagon train from Chicago to California.  These women all had a story. All different kinds of personalities, all ages, strengths and weaknesses. Some small and ladylike, others sturdy and no nonsense but every single one amazing and strong and determined. I was mesmerized. Then Cindy's Dad came in and turned it off.  Why did adults do stuff like that back then? It was so jarring. I felt empty inside and like I just had to know what became of those super duper wonderful  pioneer women. Did they make it to California? Were the men waiting for them? Were they good men? WHAT ??? So in my 10 year old head I decided I would never forget the title and make an effort to see the ending.
From that night till this I never forgot . I have watched many westerns but those Westward Women seemed to fall off the earth. I hoped the old film had not been forever ruined or destroyed. It is a mystery why it took so long but I finally caught it , late last night on my color television in the same black and white film. No vertical/horizontal knobs but I still use an antenna less the foil. It was just as wonderful as I remembered and the ending, just so you know Cindy Wilks-was worth the 47 year wait. On and on and so it goes. kisses


Movie Quote from Westward The Women
Patience Hawley: [to the awaiting bridegrooms] You can look us over, but don't think you're going to do the choosing! All the way from Independence, I've been staring at two things: one was this picture and the other was the rump of a mule... and don't ask me which was prettier!

Dallas

Morning has broken, Spring has sprung and it is a beautiful sunshiny Tuesday.  52 degrees here in south central Texas. Jackets worn to catch the school bus this morning will be stuffed in backpacks this afternoon. Fishing poles are out and ready to go as bluebonnets wave hello. I love living in the country.

I recently visited Dallas on business. Pulling in on I35 the skyline reminded me of a scene from the movie AI (Artificial Intelligence) . Haley Joel Osment and Jude Law fly into a futuristic city full of talking neon billboards. Apparently the future is here although I did not see any flying cars

 My Iphone camera is barely adequate but that purple sphere on the left was huge. It could have been a visiting spacecraft and yet no city folks could  tell me what it was or had any idea what I was talking about. The rental car was full of sorcery. Push a button to start an engine that idles without gasoline, a knob more suited to a kitchen appliance than for shifting gears just felt like blasphemy and the radio talked to me.    

       Good Grief ! Maybe I need to get out more.   While I think it is good to broaden our horizons. I  am happy to be back home . My old truck has a proper gear shift. A radio for me to listen to -not the other way around. And one highway through town lined with wild flowers not massive concrete walls. The
 moon and the stars are my favorite and familiar skylights. God blessed Texas. kisses

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