Bloom! NOT

I am tired.  Time to relax and refresh.  I might just sit in my back yard all day.  A sense of unrest keeps  gurgling to the surface.  Seeing daffodils peeking through the dirt and even popping into bloom in some places makes me sad that I planted no bulbs last fall.  In fact, not a single posie has been deposited into the earth in my new yard.  This is an abomination to my psyche.  Flower beds cannot be planned until that *!?*!!!%*%* building (or garage or shop or manly playhouse or whatever it will be) has been completed.  The lot is cleared of excess trees. Rocks have been unearthed and piled on the corner.  Stakes are inserted with twine stretched to connect the dots.  Now we await the blessing of city hall on the engineered slab design.   My vision for the final look of the back part of the yard seems to have been discarded.  I'm thinking I won't mention it again.  Function is more important than aesthetics, apparently.  I won't think about this today.  Maybe I better stay out of the back yard!

A Beautiful Life

Pat and Cherry

My only first cousins on the paternal side of the family.

Laughter, tears, smiles and hugs filled this week.  A call Saturday afternoon pulled my heartstrings in an unexpected sudden urge to review my childhood.  The photo above was taken a few years before my birth.  Cherry was ten years my senior and Pat was ten years older than my sister.  We were the four granddaughters of Gordon and Nan.  After losing Pat just a few days shy of four years ago, the news that Cherry was in her last hours of life brought my own early years bubbling to the surface.

The two cousins were teen-age girls in my early memories.  Pat was always so "cool and glamorous". Cherry still enjoyed "little girl" toys and was challenged by my first grade study tools.  My mother explained that she was "mentally retarded" and would probably never learn beyond an eight or nine year  capability.  Little did we know how she would expand those capabilities.  Yes, she remained childlike in so many ways, but she led a full and productive life thanks to the plan put in place by her diligent, protective and thoughtful mother.  That plan was followed by Pat after loss of their parents. Pat's older daughter stepped in to protect and enable Cherry's continued success when we lost Pat.

As I went away to college, Cherry was embarking on her own life away from home.  She moved into a "dormitory" where social activities were coordinated with a supervised work environment.  We discovered Cherry's aptitude for detailed shape recognition and sorting translated into a skill for earning wages.  Contracts were acquired for her group to earn a portion of their living expenses and develop money handling.  She loved her work and felt a strong sense of responsibility.  For years she had made potholders on a loom for all family and friends.  I still have two of the six she made as a wedding gift for me.  There will be no more.

Cherry had a stroke and died a few hours later. She had lived her final years in her own home with twenty-four hour care-givers under the guardianship of her niece.  I had never visited her there, but felt her presence when Karen and I went to the house to clear her personal belongings.  It gives me peace to know that she lived a life, not of limitations, but of limitless talent!

Wishing for Snapshots!

For several years I have kept my camera with me at all times.  Since the purchase of that first digital camera, snapping photos at every opportunity has been the norm.  My motto...photograph  constantly and a something will be worth saving.  Taking a picture with instant review is a delight.  Since the move to Texas that pattern has changed.  Certainly we do not lack for beautiful vistas or good times that should be captured on film. I've just found it easier to travel light these days.  My phone includes a decent camera to record those fun moments with friends or a quick shot of a pretty building or artifact.  I even managed to record a part of the Elvis tribute show last week.  I know what I'm seeing and hearing, but the entertainment value isn't quite the same.

After several busy weeks, Ol' Abner and I are enjoying a lazy weekend with no actual plans or commitments.  We drove into Austin and when the road was a little congested, bailed off to another freeway and circled around a different way.  I love that about Austin highways.  If one is crowded, take an exit and grab an alternate route.  In the process, we circled the city's center twice and encountered some spectacular views of the downtown skyline from multiple angles.  A camera phone just doesn't do to capture a skyline view from the window of a moving car along the freeway! In present day, the capitol building is dwarfed by larger buildings but somehow dominates the view.  We were enjoying our ride so much that we never did reach Ol' Abner's original destination, but who wants to wander around a big sporting goods mecca when the sun is shining and the roads are open.

Next time he wants to cruise, I'll take my camera for sure!

It's a Clear Day...I think

I have to wonder if my mind is regressing or progressing.  Things that bothered me terribly at one time no longer have much impact.  There was a time when derogatory comments from others would bring on serious introspection.  No more do I even give it a second thought. In fact, I'm not sure what comment brought that thought to the surface.  Clearly, it did not have the desired effect.

My housekeeping style has never been overly immaculate.  In earlier years, I panicked at the arrival of an unexpected visitor if my house was in flux.  My theory today, a welcome guest doesn't arrive to inspect my house, but to see the people within.  If that's not the case, that guest probably isn't  welcome regardless of the tidiness of the homeplace.  I clear the piles of projects in progress and stacks of unattended mail before a planned event, but frequent visitors don't even seem notice their presence.  Have I regressed into clutter?

My multi-tasking ability has stymied many.  I may appear to be procrastinating to some because I do not focus on a project until action is necessary.  Planning, making lists, discussing, accumulating data and repeating the process two or three times holds little satisfaction for me.  Long ago I discovered plans frequently change several times within the scope of dream to commitment to completion.  Seems like a waste of time that could be better spent with more urgent activity.  Colleagues have been known to bring in an army of helpers when I failed to display tangible evidence of commitment to the dream.  It took several years before I learned to tactfully explain that matters were well under control.  Even Ol' Abner has learned not to mention it, but move out of my way when the time comes for action.  I guess that could be called progress.

Today I am much more cognizant of how I feel about circumstances than what I think others may perceive.  I know what I like and what I want. No one can make it happen better than me!

Blurry Lights...maybe not

Night Time Horizon

I've spent many nighttime hours on the highway this month.  Spoiled Rot'n Girl and I left the Texas hills in the early morning hours less than a week ago on a bus traveling to an Indian reservation (with a most lovely casino).  Our nighttime return on a rainy night revealed a captivating view of the Houston skyline at night as it appeared to float up through the fog.  I wish I'd had my camera handy or at least tried to snap a shot with my phone.  Instead I just gaped at the breathtaking view.

This morning we sit at my sister's home just outside Lubbock, Texas, the city where I suddenly realized I was supposed to be an adult!  It's the place where I reluctantly entered the college of my father's choice, leaving my high school chums behind.  This is the place where I began my first real job. It's the sight of my first auto accident (ouch) and first broken bone, another "ouch" but separate incident. I made plans that made my father proud and my mother cringe.  Among the lights above is the place I first fell in love, had my heart broken, served as a bridesmaid more times than I really want to remember, and yes even decided to become a bride myself.  Both of my children were born in broad daylight leading to sleepless nights within these same city lights.  It may look like a vague photo to some, but to me, it holds a world of wonderful memories.

Beware Buyer!

A visit from long time friends can revive old hopes and dreams.  Our little town on the lake in central Texas was the setting for fun times with our young children back in the eighties.  We all lived in Houston at the time but dreamed of one day having a weekend or retirement home on this lake.  Our visits here often included a drive-around to look at property in the area.  Since that time both families have scattered and we have all moved far and near.

This weekend Guitar Man and Dancing Girl spent the weekend with us and our real estate agent.  We all love looking at homes, with realistic and fantasy characteristics.  We now own our home here and they are ready to begin the transition to becoming a two home family.  This is the place!  They are thinking they'll buy a "fixer-upper" with a large enough lot to add a manly playhouse.  Their needs are pretty similar to ours, so the realtor fell into step with us quite easily.  After all, he showed us homes for nearly a year before we finally completed our purchase.

When a friendship has endured over the many years, the people become a "chosen" part of our family. I met Dancing Girl when she came to our office as a temporary worker.  We were in need of a very fast typist who could quickly learn medical terms.  She fit the spot.  She was newly pregnant with her third child and needed the flexibility afforded by a temporary job.  We met her need.  From that beginning, the friendship has continued to meet both our needs over and over.

I have been watching a house up the street from us with some ugly paint and need of a few minor repairs. The price reflects the needs and falls in their desired range.  It was the first one they viewed.  After seeing several properties, they settled on it, only to see three other showings taking place the same day. No activity in nearly two months and suddenly a flurry of interest had appeared. Ol' Abner made it a point to race up the street on Harley Brown each time the other realtors came with clients. Guitar Man and Dancing Girl  made a fair offer and waited...and waited!  Meanwhile they had arranged to purchase the lot behind it for placement of Guitar Man's playhouse.  One of the other lookers, undeterred by the roaring rider, made an offer and our friends upped their ante.  After an agonizing day, they won the prize.  Now we are all a little euphoric.   Thirty years after we played here, we look forward to beginning a new round of playtimes.

and off I GO!

With the constant travel between homes interspersed with daytrips for medical visits, travel just for fun has been out of the question for the last couple of years.  It's all a memory now.  Wanderlust is coming out loudly!  I have my passport and I've booked my very first ever cruise!!! I'm riding the bluehair bus to the Indian Reservation with a friend later this month and a trip to the Pacific Northwest is well into the planning.

Ol' Abner is perfectly happy to stay in Central Texas and ride around on Harley Brown from time to time.  I want to go a little further and I don't really want to ride a Harley.  From this vantage, we can each indulge in the wanderlust that suits.  I will follow the herd of Harley riders in my cage and thrill at the beautiful hill country views without the wind in my face.  He will putter around the house and lunch with friends or son when I travel further, and we have a couple of road trips together planned.

Perhaps we have found the perfect mix of homebody/traveler formula!  It only took forty one years!