Cowboys and Angels

I've had a very special person on my mind more than usual this past week.... 

(Photo courtesy of Luke & Cat @ ourlittleranchphotography.com)

David's Dad and mine both passed away before we were married so my kids have never actually had a grandpa in their lives. They were both wonderful and memorable men and I've often regretted my children didn't get to know them.  However, the good Lord has such a wonderful way of filling the gaps in our lives with special people and special experiences, greater than we could ever hope for or understand. 

I was very close to my own Grandfather and he was a big influence on me.  There is undoubtedly something very, very special about a grandfatherly relationship.  Maybe because when we're young we will listen to advice from grandparents we won't heed from our own parents.  Maybe its because they have a little more time on their hands to spend with us and just make us feel special.  Maybe its because through the filter of age and experience, they'll just tell you like it is and cut through the crap in a clear and refreshing way.   For these reasons and many more, a grandparent plays a special role in shaping us as we grow.

A very special man passed away this weekend who was as close to a grandfather as DJ had in his life.  He was a man's man.  A tough guy.  A hard worker.  An old fashioned cowboy.  A master hunter and fisherman.  A person of strong values and great character.  A great storyteller with an amazing sense of humor.  A good husband and family man who drew others in and made them feel part of his family.  A person of incredible heart.  A true one of a kind!

Not only will he live on in the lives of his wonderful loving family, but he will live on in the hearts of DJ and the other boys he touched so deeply.  Those nights around the campfire after a day of deer hunting, those talks and laughs while riding in the truck on endless chores, and those many meals shared did more than pass the time and nourish the boys bodies.  It nourished their souls and shaped their character in many ways.   Ways that I as a mother could never accomplish.  Ways that I am so very greatful for.

I am grateful beyond words for Mr. Andrew who so beautifully left his print on DJ's life.  May he receive a great reward in heaven for the love he showed here on earth!

Conversations While Coloring

One more great thing about fall?  I got my Bible school kiddos back!!   I usually teach a Wednesday night Bible class during the school year but have the summer off (when classes run on a different schedule).  I just LOVE my Bible class kids!  No matter how crummy a day I could have had or how tired I am, they always make me laugh.  Out of all the ages I've taught over the years, this is easily my favorite - that beautiful childhood window after the "diaper changing and potty training" but before the "I know it all already" age.   I've had this particular group for a couple years.  They are absolute sweethearts and I think most of them have a real future in comedy?  Their take on life is amazing and you just never know what they will say.

Dillon's picture he colored

 

Last night I had 7 charming little ones, ages 4 to 7, and our lesson was about how Moses' mother hid him in a basket in the river where he was found by one of Pharoah's daughters and then raised as an Egyptian prince.  We generally have our story time and then the kids talk and visit as we're doing our coloring or craft activity that goes with the lesson.  Here is a quick glimpse into of some of the conversation as we colored our pictures:

Moses basket looks like a tanning bed.

Is the Princess wearing a bra?  (6 year old girl asking) Because my friend told me she was going to bring me a bra but she didn't.  That's a lie, right?

Does the Princess have hair like on "Tangled"?

I have ALL the Princess movies!

1st child:  Did Moses have horses when he was a Prince?  I wonder if he had horses.
2nd child:  Of course, but he didn't like do rodeo or nothing.
3rd child:  No silly, they did chariot races.
2nd child:  So did they have horse trailers?
1st child:  Duh!  They didn't have trucks.  They had to WALK everywhere.  (with big eye-roll)
2nd child:  No they didn't.  They rode their horses.  (with a big "Ah-Ha! I got you" expression)
3rd child:  Or camels.  Sometimes they rode camels.  And donkeys.  But they called them the bad "A" word.

Girl:  Did the princess have blond hair?
Me:  Well, I've never seen an Egyptian person with blonde hair, but you can color it any color you want.
Girl:  I think she should have blonde hair.
Boy:  Mine has green hair.
Me:  (glancing at his paper) Uhhh... yes she does.  In fact her whole self is green.  ??
Boy:  She's an alien Princess!

See what I mean??  And if you could just hear the tone of voice and see the facial expressions!  They are too funny!

Of course Dillon is in this class and I know they must be a riot on Sunday mornings too.  Every few weeks the Sunday morning teacher will flag me down and say "I've got a Dillon story for you!"  I'm always like thinking silently... oh no, what did he say this time?  This fine Christian lady has probably heard it all in her 40+ years of teaching classes; I'm just glad she's kept her sense of humor!   So she tells me that while they were studying about how God spoke to Samuel during the night in the temple and Samuel didn't realize it was God speaking to him, that Dillon breaks out with "I know!  I know! Maybe it was like he was a Ninja and sneaking around the temple!"  

Oh my!  We really need to work on supressing that instinct to say just about anything that pops into his brain.  Although I have to admit, he doesn't have a very good example in me?! 
=)  

Adventures with Pooh the Raccoon

This is the blog I mentioned in my posting about Bert earlier this week from a few years ago when Sue's pet raccoon came on vacation with us.  We had so much fun with her!  Hope you enjoy...   =)

Dillon and Pooh the Raccoon

Oh give me a home where the buffalo roam, and the deer and the teenagers play… or something like that, right? There is nothing like mixing a little 4-legged wildlife with some of the 2-legged variety for an interesting vacation, and our newest 4-legged camper provided lots of laughs and excitement this week.

First a little background info… About 7 years ago we were very fortunate to join in with a great group of friends (about 5-7 families) in what has become our “camping group”. It’s now somewhat of an extended family for all of us, who at least a few days every summer get to kick back and have fun together. We take turns with chores and cooking (and we eat like kings!) and we always camp near water. Over the years we’ve dipped our toes – and other body parts – in a myriad of Texas lakes and rivers and always have an absolute blast!

This year we wound up at one of our very favorite places in the entire world – Blue Roan Bend. Only 30 minutes from Wharton near Garwood, this beautiful game fenced property is home to cattle (of course, duh!) but also has trophy deer, buffalo, and all manner of assorted wild critters. There is a big deep lake with water so cool and clear you would swear you’re in the hill country, and an amazing “cabin” with all the comforts of home and more than twice the size of my house. Our only expenses are food and gas for the boat, so not only is it incredibly beautiful but practically free – which makes it even better.

Where the Buffalo roam... literally. 

I took this picture while waiting for them to get

out of the way so I could drive past. 

One thing’s for sure, our group is never short on laughs or excitement, but our newest 4-legged camper “Pooh” added a new twist this year. You see Pooh is a little rescued female raccoon Sue bottle fed since it was only 2 days old and she’s now very tame and lovable, with the mischievous and playful nature of a puppy. Pooh thinks Sue is her mommy and we of course all became her extended family as she roamed about the cabin this week. Well, maybe except for 2 campers (who shall remain anonymous) who it turns out have almost a near phobia of raccoons. We were proud of them though, and except for one leap across a table and one standing in a chair freaking out episode, we all cohabitated quite nicely. After some initial sorting out of who was boss, Pooh even managed to live peacefully with the two dogs - one wearing a doggie diaper, and the other winning a bet for being 83 years old… but those are stories for another day.

Pooh and her "Momma Sue"

Our most exciting event with Pooh was our first night there. Pooh had been very shy at first that evening, not used to the cabin and definitely not used to all the people and commotion. She had taken to mostly hiding behind furniture and peeking out to watch us with a curious expression. Well past midnight following a very long day we were finally ready to go to bed and searched the cabin top to bottom but could not find Pooh anywhere. It was as if she had disappeared into thin air. Actually Dillon had been calling her “Poof” all night like from the Fairly Odd Parents cartoon, and the name seemed to fit. The crazy raccoon was no where to be found!

Come to think of it, no one had seen Pooh for hours, since we had been feeding her little chunks of rice crispy treats which she loved but couldn’t figure out why they would stick to her hands. She would pick it up, eat a bite, then flick her hand with a hurried shake-shake-shake… until the piece would fly off, then pick it up again, take another bite, and repeat the whole process… hilarious!

"Look Mommy - This stuffed animal plays with me!"

(Aiden and Pooh were so cute together)

Anyway, we gave up the search fairly quickly, all too tired to worry about it for long, and figuring Pooh had probably found a hiding place and gone to sleep somewhere. Sue said “If she comes out during the night, just come get me and I’ll put her in her crate”. Yes, the raccoon has a crate just like a puppy. She also eats only expensive Iams cat food and already has an assortment of dresses and clothes. I’m not kidding - the raccoon came on vacation with luggage! And for those of you wondering, she is litter box trained for her Pooh-poo. =)

Ok, getting back to our story… We parents retired to our rooms and left the teenagers bunked in the living room to fend for themselves against the curious raccoon. I happened to be up about 2am taking Dillon to the bathroom which is a mommy-son two person job. The pitch black dark cabin can be a toe-stubbing nightmare to a grown-up, but is also full of curiosities and taxidermied things, and is all around unbelievably scary at night to a 5 year old, thus the mommy escort. So as we are warily navigating our way back to our room by cell-phone light, all heck breaks loose in the living room! We hear screaming and hollering and the sound of thundering footsteps headed straight for us, with flashlight beams zooming around like some bad 70’s disco.

“We found the coon! We found the coon!” Sue and I met up with the boys in the hallway and got the whole story. It seems once everyone had gone to bed and the cabin got quiet Pooh, being the nocturnal creature God made her to be, decided it was time to get out and play - only she was trapped. The kids heard this bumping and scratching coming from inside a big sofa table with drawers. When someone found a flashlight and worked up the nerve to open the top drawer, out popped Pooh the raccoon! I wish I could have been there to see it - the teens (all big tough guys except for Dollie) crouched around the drawer with a flashlight, probably thinking about every horror movie they had ever seen, screaming like little girls when Pooh sprang out of that drawer! Of course, they swear they were really cool about it.

Though we tried valiantly, we couldn’t get the raccoon surprise effect to work to our favor after that. The next morning when faced with sleepy teens laid out across the living room looking like a scene from Jonestown, even putting Pooh underneath the covers with DJ failed to get him out of bed. Also the next day we happened to see the bottom drawer of that sofa table mysteriously open on its own and figured out Pooh’s secret. She got under the table and scooted the drawer out from underneath, then used the passageway to get into the top drawer to hide. We remembered seeing the bottom drawer open the night before and closed it, therefore unknowingly cutting off her escape route and closing her up inside.

All in all, Pooh seemed to really enjoy her vacation and by Sunday was reveling in all the attention. In fact Pooh loved camping so much that when it was time to go home she took up residence behind the dishwasher and refused to leave until finally coaxed out with a snack and a colorful feather duster toy. I don’t blame her one bit; I wish I could have stayed longer too!

Pooh likes to stay very clean and had a bath every day.  Now if we

could just get all the kids to do the same?  =)

We had a wonderful few days together, had fun swimming and floating in the lake, riding on the boats and jet ski, fishing (including the boys catching a 30+? lb catfish), wakeboarding, kneeboarding, riding a crazy 3-person tube (which sent all of us “old people” on a stumbling search for Advil and Bengay the next morning - and yes, even my big fat butt rode the jet ski and insane tube), throwing washers, playing games, and just having a great time. But when you ask my kids what they remember about this week years down the road – no doubt it will be the adventures with Pooh the raccoon!

Wes go make Bert wok!

When we stopped by Sue's house yesterday and crossed the cattle guard into the yard, David exclaimed "Oh man, they have cattle out.  There's one in the yard!"  DJ and I just kind of laughed and said "Oh, that's just Bert.  They probably let him in there on purpose."    Sweet puppy-faced Bert, a huge ton of gray Brahman bull muscle, was happily munching the green grass alongside Sue's flower beds in their big shady yard.

Bert

Even out in the country, most people would think it strange to see this big guy ambling through the yard amid preschool toys, swimming pool, and carefully tended plants.  You would just have to know Sue.  And Bert.  Bert is quite a story actually. 

In addition to their own ranching and hay operations, Sue and her husband Charles run a full spectrum cattle service business.   Charles does everything from AI and palpation, flushing and embryo transfers, recips and calving, breaking and handling show cattle strings, and a myriad of other cattle related services.  Yes, I realize I may have just lost some of you there with the last sentence... just take my word for it, Charles is a local go-to-guy for all things related to cattle management and breeding.   He also boards cattle (cares for them at his ranch for a reasonable fee).   Bert came to their place as a boarder and led a pampered life well fed and cared for with his barn stall and small paddock all to himself per his owners specific instructions.    After a while living this pampered life, Bert became withdrawn and quit eating.  He just wasn't himself.  He went back and forth to the Vet without finding anything really wrong until finally he became so sick and weak all the opinions led to putting him down.  Everyone's opinion except Sue's of course.

For those who know Sue, you know she has a special touch with animals.  She will often be fostering some poor animal others would have written off.   She's bottle fed all manner of orphaned or injured baby calves, horses, dogs, cats, raccoons, rabbits, squirrels, birds, and goodness knows what else over the years.  At the moment Sue has a pet squirrel and pet raccoon she raised since they were newborn orphans.   (I have a funny old blog post about when the raccoon went on vacation with us several years back, I'll re-post it one day soon.)   In her yard you may see wild turkeys grazing around or beautiful peacocks she patiently hatched from eggs.  She takes the time for God's creatures that most folks won't.  She's just cool like that!

So anyway, Sue begged them to bring Bert home to their ranch one more time.  Sue babied him and cared for him.  She put him outside in the fresh air and green grass with other cattle to keep him company.   Several times a day they would go outside and just make him get up and walk around.   It got to where Kayla, Sue's adorable 2 year old little shadow, would climb up into her or Charles' lap, plant her little chubby hands on their chest with her face nose to nose with theirs and say "Wes go make Bert wok!"  It was her way of saying she wanted to go outside and play with Bert.   So they would go out in the pasture and make Bert "wok".  And you know what?  Pretty soon Bert perked right up, started eating and putting on weight, and acting like a young bull again.   Today he's the picture of health.

Kayla and Bert

So I guess Bert has become something of a big pet around the place.  Even amid all the champion show cattle around their ranch, Bert holds a most pampered spot.  Sue has worked harder than anyone else I know to keep her yard and flowerbeds watered and green during this summer's drought.   So when a yard full of green grass is an odd rarity and the ultimate bovine luxury... it came as no surprise to find Bert there grazing happily away. 

We could all take a lesson I guess that despite best intentions, being isolated and pampered in solitude is not always a good thing.  Sunshine, fresh air, green grass, and socializing can work wonders.   And we all need someone who loves us enough not to give up on us.  And who cares enough to make us get up and "wok".

   =)

Bert looking sharp in the Houston showring

Doing "The Wave" - Small Town Style

School will be starting next week and things will be settling down into the regular old routine again, including that morning trip to Newgulf to drop Dillon at school.  My city friends think its weird that I drive about 10 miles round trip just to drop him at school in the mornings (Ha!  They oughta talk to some of my friends that drive from Wharton and Hungerford twice a day!).    Moreover, they think its extremely weird that I actually ENJOY this drive every morning.   The ones who don't get it have just never lived in a small town.  They don't know about "wave and smile traffic".

Every morning you see pretty much the same friends on the road and everyone waves and smiles.  Over, and over, and over again.  Who can't help but get a good start on their day that way?  If you're still not in a good mood by then, just stop by Vette's or the store and get an actual howdy and hug from friends you're sure to find there.  I mean no matter how bad or hectic your morning started out, there's just no excuse to leave our little community without a smile on your face in the morning.  If all those waves and smiles don't make you grin, then honey you need to live somewhere else for a while so you appreciate them again.  They are special indeed.

I guess the wave is just a small town thing?   Of course it's not just a morning thing, anytime during daylight hours when you meet someone you know on the road, you wave.  It's just the polite thing to do.    Every kid secretly practices and perfects their wave when learning to drive.  Come one... admit it, you did it too at age 15 or so?  Its something of a coming of age ritual, every bit as important (and more frequently used than) parallel parking.  Theres a few basic categories of wave: hand on the wheel, hand off the wheel, left and right variations, and further refined by number of fingers used.  Theres the hand on the wheel pointer finger wave, usually accompanied with a head nod - "I'm too cool to really wave at you, but I acknowledge you" wave; the two finger vee/peace - "heyyy" wave; the whole hand - "hi there friend" wave; the thumb and forefinger (like an imaginary gun) wave; and scores of others.  I'm a four finger left hand on the wheel-er myself.  It's almost a "hi there friend" whole hand wave but since I usually have a heavily caffinated beverage in the other hand, gotta keep that thumb on the wheel.  You really don't want me actually IN your front seat with you, right?  haha    Rarely seen of course is the angry middle finger wave, and though its common in the city it tends to me much more scarce around these parts.  Perhaps because everyone here knows where you live?  And they might tell your Momma on you.  Or your Grandpa - yikes!  LOL

Maybe a true test of small town road hospitality is if you wave when a stranger waves at you?  Of course we've all waved by mistake at someone in a vehicle that looks exactly like a friends (at least you think it does coming at you at 70mph), only to have an embarassingly "oops" moment when its a stranger giving you a wack look.  There is a gentleman down the road from us with the same model and color truck as Dollie's.  Poor guy must think I have a crush on him or something... seems I'm always waving at him.  LOL   My husband will wave at absolutely anybody who waves at him, especially when he drove his white dually (a common truck in our area).  We'll be driving along and he exchanges waves and I'm like "who was that"?  He's all "No clue.  But they waved.".  Oooo kay!

So limber up those fingers and hands my friends; if you see me coming, you BETTER wave!  =)

School Daze... Minus the Craze

Tonight was "meet the teacher night" at Dillon's school.  This is one of several changes in our schools I'm really liking this year.  Instead of getting a letter in the mail to tell us who his teacher would be, they held this cool little meet and greet.  Nice!  They also gave us the gigantic yearly packet of forms to fill out AHEAD of time and actually, really, get this now... published school supply lists for junior high and high school on their website!  Pretty awesome, huh??

Of course leave it to our school to change things up just when I'd almost gotten used to the old way.  I mean, now they've jacked with one of the most holy traditions of back to school... the first day marathon.  Part contest of athletic prowess, part skill and experience, and heavy on endurance; if you survived that first day insanity as a parent, the rest of the year was pure gravy.  Our darn overachiever school people have gone and taken all the fun out of it. 

Our elementary school always publishes its school supply list WAY ahead of time but just to keep things interesting there was usually at least one item on the list that was nearly impossible to find.  Like something that you had to search dozens of stores for or order online?  Maybe that was a pass/fail test for Mommys... to see who REALLY shops ahead of time for these supply lists and who (like me, ahem...) waits until the week or so before school starts to round it all up.  A friend of mine has gone to unbelievable lengths to find white paper lunch sacks for her daughter's list this year.  One year not long ago, I was on the infamous 'red checking pencil' hunt.   Hello people... no one carries these any more!  I finally found a stash at some store in Houston and bought every package they had for the future, thinking I would be the best prepared smartest parent ever.  Yep, you guessed it... the next year they switched to red pens instead.   Ha!  This year our elementary even gave parents the option to purchase pre-packaged supplies.  Ahead of time.  Imagine that??

I of course passed on the pre-packaged supplies.  That would just be too easy.  Because I love the challenge.  And I would have withdrawls.  And I still have oodles of unused supplies in my school supply motherlode box (including a couple of new unopened packages of the red checking pencils, just lying there taunting me).  Most Moms I know have a supply motherlode.  Mine is in a big rubbermaid tub, mecca of all things relating to school supplies, usually purchased in bulk when on sale and/or carried over from previous years.  Need a compass or set of notecards at the last minute?  Check the box.  20 more packs of notepaper or a deluxe locker shelf?  Check the box.  It saved our bacon many times.  The box also comes in handy for recyling the supplies which you buy faithfully in August, only to see them come home with your child again in June unused.  No kidding, I still have the same 6 big pink erasers I purchased for Dillon in Kindergarten.  They went into his backpack this year again.  A big eraser?  Psssh... my child never makes mistakes. He's good like that.  Takes after his Momma.  And I've got a bridge to sell you...  LOL  More like he's too lazy to get his big eraser out and use it?

Unlike the elementary, in years past school supply lists for junior high and high school were not divulged until the first day of school.  I mean kept shushed.  Top Secret.  Total surprise.  And so ensued round one of Moms craziness.  When the bell rang after school, it was like the starting bell to the greatest scavenger hunt of the year.  Most of us bought the standard stuff like paper, dividers, map colors, etc. before hand.  But how are we to know that this particular teacher wants you to have three blue paper folders with brads, one yellow plastic folder with no brads, and a 2 inch purple binder with see-through cover and inner pockets.  Unique lists times 6-7 teachers times multiple children and the adventure begins....    I mean seriously, let's hope either WalMart or HEB happened to order a few 2 inch clear covered pocketed purple binders that happen to meet this teacher's specifications but if she told 22 kids in five different periods to get the same thing, ain't no chance the store ordered 100 of that item.  Whoever snoozes loses and has the pleasure of driving to the next town hunting for that item.

So the mad dash usually took us to both stores in Wharton where the aisles of course were clogged with your child's other 400 classmates and their parents, each person trying to squeeze through, inching their buggy over the mound of educational refuse scattered below, reaching over and around others like some sick game of Twister, all the while watching warily for that top shelf box of binders sure to come toppling down any second... people PLEASE.    This is where you abondoned your shopping buggy and split up the team for a coordinated attack... you go down this aisle and check for the folders, I'll go this way after the overpriced calculator, then circle back for the folders... we'll meet back here at precisely 1800 hours.  Remember now... dive through the legs, scale the shelves, be tough!  Ready... on three....  break! 

And let's don't even start on the choices available... boys are easy but my daughter on the other hand insisted on "cute" binders.  You seriously want me to pay four times as much because you like the trendy design on this binder?  (teenager rolls eyes with that "is she really stupid enough to ask that question?" look as she dumps a stack of them into your cart)

Eventually I wised up.  I had the kids call or text me their lists before I left work on the first day of school (yes, this is the REAL reason I allowed them cell phones in junior high) and I could shop in relative uncrowdedness at Office Max before heading home.  Yay me!  It only took me about 10 years to figure that out?

Once you got past the school supply mania, saw that your precious babies had scarfed down their fast food dinner since of course there is no way in heck you have time to cook, finished homework (collective ugh!), and had them showered and in bed by their newly reinforced bedtime... there were still mountains of paperwork to fill out for each child before you can collapse into bed past midnight.  I mean seriously, we've lived in the same house for 23 years - can the school not keep something on file with my address from last year?  Noooo, of course not.  We had to fill out name, address, contact info, and all matter of complete medical history no less than 10 times per child every single year.  The stack of parent paperwork was daunting indeed.  Actually, its a little known fact that first day of school paperwork is one of the leading causes for birth control.  If you've ever done this for two or three kids, can you imagine doing it for eight or ten?  I think my fingers would spasm beyond repair! 

Of course now our schools have gotten all smart this year by publishing the supply lists for each teacher in junior high and high school and decreased that mountain of forms too.  Go figure??  Look out though, now everyone might want to have 19 kids like that show on TLC.  Oh wait.  She homeschools.  Well don't that thought just about melt your brain or what???  Have I mentioned lately how thankful I am for public schools?  =)

So even if our overachieving administrators have taken the fun and adventure out of back to school for parents this year, I gotta love em.  Our local schools really are top rate, the heart of our community, and have the best staff you will find anywhere!  A big tip of the hat and good luck this year to all the wonderful teachers and school staff everywhere who keep things running smoothly.  I know it aint all twinkles and fairy dust... but they do an absolutely awesome job!! 

(And I hope Ms. Krenek, my 8th grade English teacher, never reads this because she'll fuss at me for saying "aint".  And she may make me diagram sentences again... eeeek!  Gotta love that good ole Boling education.) 
  

Sheneeda, Shirley, and Shrek

I was having a random conversation with my Mom tonight and she mentioned her power had blinked off.  "Even if I don't have the TV on or anything, I can always tell if the power blinks off because Shrek beeps",  she says.  It took me a second.  Whaaaat???  Then I remembered she has named her oxygen concentrator "Shrek".  Ooooh, okay Mom.  (Mom is on oxygen 24/7 due to health problems and while she's home this machine concentrates room air into pure oxygen which she breathes through one of those little tubes you wear under your nose.  When we leave the house she brings little oxygen bottles with her.  Just FYI, in case you don't have an oxygen concentrator in your realm of daily appliances LOL)  Anyway, I'm not sure where she came up with the name "Shrek", something to do with the soft wheezy sound it makes I think? 

But then again, Mom has always had the fascinating habit of naming random objects in her life.  Her eyesight has gotten so bad she can't drive anymore.  One of her favorite hobbies is to pass the time on her back steps or looking out the big window by her recliner and watch the birds, squirrels, and all manner of critters she feeds faithfully in her backyard every day.  You know that classic scene in Snow White where she's out singing and all the little birds fly up chirping and there's bunnies and squirrels and all the little woodland animals gather around?  Well, that's kind of like my Mom's backyard.  Only Mom doesn't sing, doesn't exactly look like Snow White, and... well...  there's just about no other similarity come to think of it.  LOL   But lots of birds and little creatures think her backyard is heaven.


They entertain her and she names some of them too.  I find it fascinating that this woman who can barely read the big E on the eye chart can tell the hummingbirds apart... oh, that little one there with the yellow on his breast is a bully... he chases the one with the white wing tips away.   Say what??   You're kidding me, right?  All I see is a blur!!  She has named her favorite and most frequent squirrel visitor "Shirley".  Shirley the squirrely.  Has a nice ring to it, don't ya think?  Anyway, so she can see colors on the hummingbirds flying at a million miles an hour but she can't see that ole Shirley is a boy?  I mean seriously... got a big ole boy part pretty obvious there when he sits and eats his corn.  Hello... Mom??  You realize Shirley isn't a girlie squirrely, right?    But then again at our house we have a girl pig named Steve, so who am I to talk.  SMH

Mom and Dad always had a habit of naming things, especially cars.  I think this started with Sheneeda.  Sheneeda was a 1950-something Chevy sedan, the first new car they bought after they got married.  I know about Sheneeda because apparently one day in the 1960's she made the trip to my Grandpa's farm at Round Top and then gave up the ghost, never to run again.  It sat peacefully under a tree by one of the barns until the property was sold in the 1990's.   You might think Sheneeda was some kind of unique ebonic name, perhaps years ahead of her time?  Well, not so much.  It was named thusly because She-need-another quart of oil, She-need-a new alternator, She-need-a new water pump....   seems she was always needing SOMETHING!  Hahahahaha 

In a way I guess naming things give them a life of their own?  So if my Mom wants to name her oxygen machine Shrek and the boy squirrel Shirley, who am I to say anything.  You gotta admit it is kind of creative.  Come to think of it maybe I should've named one of my kids "Mommacanihave".  Momma, can I have this?  Momma, can I have that?  Hmmm....  kinda has a nice ring to it.  LOL  

Movin on uuuup

We're moving on up... mooovin on uup...  to a deeelux apartment in the sky-eye-eye...  Who can name that sitcom?    LOL  My office is getting ready for a big move.  Right now most of our department is located in a leased office park while the company builds a new 25-story office building.  That new building is almost ready and so we get to move.  UGH!!  I HATE MOVING!   And coordinating movers, and furniture, and layouts, and phones, and computers, and expensive electronic equipment, and how are we going to keep the work up while everything is being moved, and I don't want to office next to THAT person?  Please just shoot me now.  Or approve a 6 month long vacation request?  Pretty please??

To make matters more challenging, we really like the space we are in now and especially the free parking.  No one is looking forward to paying for parking again at the new building.  Somewhere I read that in the Texas Medical Center each parking spot costs approximately $14,000.  No, that's not a misprint - that's fourteen fricken thousand US dollars!  More than the average yearly wage of most of the world's population.  There's no gold mixed in the concrete, but apparently the land the concrete is poured on is just that valuable nowadays.  So therefore we have to pay to park on it.   Dearly.  Pay to park at our own jobs.  Insane?  Yes, I know. 

So very soon we'll have to sign up with various parking options:  Option 1 - the parking garage.  Which is actually located right next door to the building (somewhat of an annomaly here at Anderson) but of course the most expensive option by far, one most folks are swearing off at this point just out of spite for the cost.  Option 2 - parking on a surface lot near the building (again, a surface lot actually within walking distance of the building is a luxury here at Anderson) but then of course theres all that walking involved.  On a pretty day, maybe its not so bad.  However, today its over 100 degrees outside and not exactly feeding the urge to stroll half a mile or more on concrete that's hot enough to melt your shoes.  Option 3 - parking on a cheaper distant lot and take the MDACC shuttle or Metro.  Hmmm, only there currently isn't even Metro service to the new building and the MDACC shuttles are apparently an adventure unto themselves.  They inherently do not run on time and have multiple interconnecting routes, but usually not directly to where you want to go, of course.  Example:  Well, wait here in the heat about 30 minutes and take the green shuttle to Fannin, then get off and wait about 20 minutes to catch the purple shuttle to Mays, and then walk 2 miles to the building where your meeting is being held.  Hello??  Do I look like a track star?   Only in the Medical Center... where it's possible to live 5 miles from work and still have an hour commute.

As I said, our new building is 25 stories tall and apparently its going to be pretty sweet.  Of course nowadays architecture can't just be normal, it's gotta be all curvy and modern.  So our new building is basically rectangular on three sides with the other side curving to a point.  Like a big giant boat.  Ha!  I'd like to see Leonardo DiCaprio lean over the edge of THAT bow!   Of course that shape has been the source of jokes and nicknames for the new space - the boat, the ship, the mothership, the party boat, and my personal favorite... the love boat.  Apparently some think our President looks like Gavin MacLeod?  Well, if only it had swimming pools, bars, and always a happy ending... and Gopher to keep us entertained?  Count me in.

When describing floor plans to staff, they were about as befuddled as I am with north/south directions... and the southeasterly facing view will overlook Bertner Street.  What???   If you're sitting in the back of the boat, thats on your left.  OHHHH!  Now that makes sense.  Your offices will be against the windows at the right side in the front of the boat.  Okay, now we understand.  LOL  Only when I started talking port side and starboard side, I lost them again.  I'm thinking we should totally have some kinda pirate themed party to break in the new space though.  Anybody got a parrot I could borrow?

Though these odd directions make perfect sense to me because I'm a very visual person who has never been good at conventional directions.  Don't tell me to go north for 0.8 miles and then turn east.  I will most certainly wind up lost and out of my mind.  And I'm not even good with street names at all.  I give directions like...  turn left at Subway, right two streets past the ugly blue house, and then left where Safeway used to be.  If you get to the gas station that sells good burgers, you went too far.  My husband just absolutely loves my directions.  Loves. Them.   They have been the fodder for many an interesting (read heated) discussion.  

Apparently in the new open concept building, shelves and cabinets will be as extinct as dinosaurs.  Everything has to be super clean, efficient, and electronic.  Hmmm... that's not exactly my forte either, and I'm supposed to whip the troops into line?  Lord, help me please.  At present I'm in the process of encouraging employees to get rid of all excess junk and paperwork before the move.  Only absolute essentials are to remain for the move.   We are having "Dumpster Days"!  No, seriously - that's what it's called.  With fan fare and microsoft calendar invites and all.  LOL   All trash, clutter, and copies of 9,000 past memos must hit the dumpster.  Personal items and "shrines" as my boss calls them (the 40-some-odd pictures of kids and family thumb tacked and scotch taped to all areas of the cubicle) must be taken home and brought back in very limited amounts after the move.  Personally I'm finding the theory of dumpster days very refreshing.  I need to have a dumpster day, or two, or 50, at my house.  Get rid of all that old clutter.  Move it out.  Scrub clean.  Repeat.  Maybe I've watched too many episodes of "Hoarders" lately, but my tolerance for clutter is drastically dropping.  What do you mean you're not finished with that magazine?  It's been here for two whole days.  Ha!  Time for the trash.  Only this just applies to other people's stuff.  Don't touch my stuff.  It's all important.  Extremely vital necessary stuff.  Nope, nothing to see here... keep walking.. DON'T touch it!!

Or maybe I just need some expert help to organize things?  Like a maid.  Like Florence from the Jeffersons?  Only she certainly had more verbal skills than domestic ones.  I just loved her!   But my luck if I tried to hire a maid, they would never understand my directions to find the house anyway....  =)

Cutest Bobble Head Ever

Since Dillon started football practice this month, we've been having fun with it.  He's been more enthused some days than others but considering the boys are practicing in 90 degree heat and of course Dillon has managed to find every fire ant and piece of burning grass on the field so far, he's been hanging in there and we're proud of him. 

I told him to look tough.   I think this is his "mean face". 

It is kind of a trip to see the little guys all suited up.  They are so stinkin cute!  And of course add "equipment manager" on to that never ending list of Mamma duties...  ever tried to fish one of those stupid football pants belts through the inside waistband and around all the pads?   Oh my.  UGH!! 

This is his "Mom, please leave me alone so I can go

play Legos already!" face. 

DJ saw Dillon's helment and thought it was adult size.  It's youth size but because of all the padding the helments do wind up looking a little large on their little peanut heads, especially without their shoulder pads on.  DJ cracked up laughing and said Dillon looked like a Bobble Head.  "Hey Dillon....  nod your head back and forth real fast!  There you go, there you go...!!   Hahahaha"

Hey Dillon... nod your head back and forth real fast...   =)

Only he does kinda look like a Bobble Head.  Don't you think?  He's absolutely adorable, but now I think of that when I see him in his helment with no pads.

I just love football season!  =)

Singing Along

A couple Friday nights ago was an area-wide singing night at our Church with families coming from all over, as far away as Victoria, Palacios and Bellville.  It was awesome!   There is something about good old fashioned acapella congregational singing that just works magic on my soul.  =)

I dearly love to sing but I'm an absolutely terrible singer.  Surrounded with enough really good voices and people who love to sing though, and they drown me out enough so you don't even notice.  Gotta love that!  I'm not a "musical" kind of person.  I couldn't carry a tune on my own if you put it in a bag with handles.

People ask me "what do you sing?" meaning soprano, alto, etc.  I say "Along.  I just sing ALONG."  hahaha   Technically according to Mrs. Carey, the brave soul in charge of the one and only choir I ever belonged to in 6th grade, I am a soprano.  No, not like Tony Soprano on HBO. The singing kind of soprano.  Like Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music soprano.  Only I sound more like Edith Bunker??  I've never had a beautiful clear high soprano voice, nor do I have a strong enough alto for some of the great alto lead songs we sing.  I just kinda sing along with whatever feels right at the moment. 

I figure God created my voice and I'll do my best with what I've got.  Just not solo or where anyone can really hear me.  I didn't sing lullabyes to my babies.  I won't even sing in the shower.  And I never. ever. ever. ever in my whole life would sing karaoke or sing in front of people in any form.  Just not happening, nor would they want me to.  

My Dad had a beautiful Irish Tenor voice and was a big fan of singing as we all drove along in the car.  Do people even do that anymore??  I mean, besides on the Christmas Vacation movie and we all know how great that carol turned out.  That's one of my great memories as a little kid, singing in the car with my Daddy.  

When my Dad used to lead singing he would say "God made the crow right along with the songbird; whose to say He doesn't like its music just as much or more?" to encourage everyone to sing.   But then again my Daddy was cool like that.  And maybe he really didn't mind having a little crow in the car singalongs sometimes.

Now deep, dark, confession time....  you ready for this...?   I still love to sing in the car when I'm all by myself.  It's my indulgence.  I can really belt it on out if I feel like it.  Broadway ain't got nothin on me, baby!  There's something about singing that just lifts a spirit (even if you're not particularly good at it).  It sheds the layers of wordly worry one note at a time.  I can be having the worst day ever, and a verse or two of a favorite song can turn my day around!

I do get some funny looks on the freeway some days though.  But hey, at least I'm not putting on my makeup or picking my nose.  There are worse things in life than singing while driving.  =)

One Year Later

Wow, how many days passed since my last posting?  Really??   I originally envisioned being able to post on my blog several times a week.  But then again, things rarely go as I plan them.   So anyway...

Last week was a big week for me.  No, nothing exploded in my dryer.   Though one of these days, don't be surprised.   Thursday of last week was July 21st.  One of those dates now for me that is burned in my memory of big events... like my wedding anniversary, or my kids birthdays, or the day my Dad died.  I guess it was kinda like a death in one way, but a rebirth in another.  Thursday was the one year anniversary of the day I was laid off from my old job after 20 years of service.   At the time I was devastated.  After all it wasn't what I had planned.  It didn't fit in with my schedule, or budget for that matter either.  It was beyond my control.  I felt the rug jerked out from beneath me!  Oh, what a difference a year makes.

Last Thursday evening I got together with four previous co-workers (who were also caught up in the same layoff) to celebrate.   That's right, CELEBRATE!   One year ago, after spending an emotional morning of goodbyes and turning in our keys and ID's, the four of us went to lunch and leaned on each other.   Then last Thursday evening we met again for what turned into 4 hours of laughing till we cried and catching up.  Our worlds looked very different.  A total 180 degree change.   It turns out the layoff was a springboard to better things for each one of us, better than we ever could have imagined in all the uncertainty a year ago.  

I do miss the people at my old job but fortunately I still keep up with many of them outside of work and now David happens to work at the facility I spent the most time at and keeps me updated.  Though honestly we are both absolutely terrible with names and faces, so put that together and it makes for some interesting conversations....

David:  This lady at work told me to tell you hello.

Me:  Cool.  Who was it?  (There are only about 200 women employees there???)

David:  Uh, not sure.  Don't know her name.  She had dark hair.  And glasses.  I think.   I'm not sure.

...And then starts the one hundred and twenty questions back and forth until I think I might almost, maybe, perhaps know who he is talking about.... 

Me:  Oh, that's nice.  Please tell her hello for me too.

David:  Okay, will do.   (With a blank, puzzled look... Yeah, I know he's thinking there is no way he's going to remember who it was if he sees her again.  LOL)

I was blessed to work with some wonderful people who became like a second family to me and I'll carry those memories forever.  And no matter how hard I may try to shake them, I'll also carry some quite spectacularly bizarre memories of patients and events in my time there.  Believe me, when you work in prison healthcare for 20 years including 3 years with a concentrated transvestite population and over 10 years in a prison psychiatric hospital, you have some pretty interesting stories! 

We laughed about getting to enjoy the little "luxuries" in our new jobs that we couldn't before.  Like carrying a purse, a cell phone, and no daily patdown searches.  "I have SCISSORS out on my desk!", we laughed.  It's a whole nother experience out here in the "free world". 

God knew what I needed and had good things in store for me.  Just a few weeks after being laid off I found my current job which I absolutely LOVE, making more money, treated with more respect, and doing work I really feel makes a difference.  The funny thing about my old job (and I actually said this during my job interview even though I told them I knew I probably shouldn't) was that even though I was extremely proud of the great work my group did at UTMB,  I was almost ashamed to be proud of it.  After all, who wants to hear about how we give those prisoners such great healthcare when someone's Grandma can't even afford her medicine.  Also, it's an odd feeling to be part of a team treating a suicidal death row inmate, going to great pains to keep him alive long enough to meet his execution date. 


Now, working for M.D. Anderson, I get to see miracles happen to the nicest people every day.  It's truly a remarkable and inspiring place to work and I know my work makes a difference!  That alone is worth more than a paycheck.  Though of course my creditors do appreciate that I get paid also.  HEB doesn't accept "warm and fuzzy" at the checkout counter and I've had zero luck trying to grow a money tree.

My Office

(Pic taken last Fall, I seriously don't have a pumpkin in my office at the moment.)

Every difficulty in life teaches you things.  Having this layoff and uncertainty on the heels of our construction business going under the year before has taught me volumes.  In fact, I ought to have a PhD in "creative finance" by now.  Ha!  Seriously, more than anything it's taught me to trust God and be grateful for the blessings he's given to see us through...  Just enough of whatever I needed to get to the next step.  Just the right timing for things to fall into place.  Just the right kind word when I needed it most.  Just the best kids and family anyone could hope for.  Just the very best friends and encouragers anywhere.  Just a couple extra special friends who helped me when I needed it most (and was too proud to admit it).  Just a bigger sense of gratitude.  Just a bigger measure of trust for whatever tomorrow brings...

And just the best, most fascinating, no I'm not kidding - this really happened, 20 years of work stories ever...    =)

Are You Ready For Some Football?

We've been hitting 100 degree weather lately and so much humidity you just about need gills to breath.  What does that mean?  It's football time in Texas baby!!  Whoo Hooo!!  Somehow we've gotten this so mixed up and only have that nice cold "football weather" the last couple games of the season.  The rest of the time our poor kids are fighting heat stroke in addition to the opposing team.

Dillon is playing football for the first time this year in our local youth football league and is super excited!  It was so much fun watching him and his little buddies at our kick off football camp this morning, and then he will be practicing 2 hours a day 4 days per week until school starts.  Yes, football season has started in our house!

Football season in a small Texas town is absolute magic.  The whole town gets involved under those Friday Night Lights, watching our kiddos uphold the community pride on a 100 yard patch of grass.  It's cool!  This is another one of those things that my friends from the big city and mega-size schools just don't understand.  Their games may have school spirit, but ours have COMMUNITY SPIRIT!  So many people turn out for these small town games across the state, most without children playing, cheering, or performing in the band.  We turn out anyway because its OUR team.  Those kids represent us.  They work hard and we support them.  

For a playoff pep rally the year Dollie was mascot in high school, we honored some of the members of a previous state championship team.  Those gentlemen still got an emotional standing ovation 34 years after their winning season ended.   Wow!  That's legend.

Friday nights during football season, our school campuses are bathed in green.  Most of the little girls at the elementary wear cheerleader outfits, many of the boys wear football jerseys, and just about everyone else at least has a green booster club t-shirt on supporting their team!   Ask any Mom and see if at least 80% of the t-shirts in their home are not Boling green??  It's pretty much the same way in every small town with their school colors.   

Dollie on a Friday morning getting ready for school in 1st Grade



One of the coolest parts of the season also is seeing the circle of life kinda thing in a small town like ours.  Today's high school kids who play, cheer, and perform in the band are heroes to the little kids coming up behind them.  These teens who will play and perform under those iconic lights with hundreds of people cheering them on take time to teach and motivate the younger kids who look up to them.  What an awesome life lesson to learn to work hard and earn the adoration of others, only to use it to inspire someone else.   In addition to interacting with them at the games, the cheerleaders hold a mini-camp ending with an awesome Friday night pep rally which is the highlight of the summer for many little bulldog girls.  Some of the cheerleaders along with some of the boys and high school coaches also come out to coach at our football camp and stop by the youth football games to give encouragement.

I was so struck by this cycle as I watched our camp today.  I remember most of our current high school cheerleaders when they were sporting those first cheer outfits in kindergarten and the boys when their biggest catch on a Friday night was getting a plastic souvenier football.  Wasn't that just yesterday?

A particular high school senior football player this year was exceptionally good with our little boys this morning.  As he ran drills with them, had them barking like big bulldogs, and they hung adoringly on his every word... I remembered him when he was missing front teeth and running around the stands at the Friday night games with DJ.  He will be one of team captains this year, one of the heroes to Dillon and his teamates.  Dillon will be running around the stands with his buddies as this young man plays, trying to catch plastic footballs and dreaming of the day they can take the field themselves.  Sappy me... almost made we want to cry.

DJ and friends grew up watching the games, and then it was finally their turn to take the field...



     DJ making a tackle in 7th Grade

Dollie played multiple sports and even won the spot to be "Spike the Bulldog" one year during her high school days.  What a terrifically FUN year that was, attending cheer camp at Texas A&M, performing totally rockin skits at pep rallies, performing on the field with the cheer squad, interacting with the band and players, and being an absolute star celebrity to the younger kids (I'm not kidding, she had to have a cheerleader body guard to keep from getting mobbed!).  All this just about made up for having to wear that heavy thick suit in 100 degree weather!



Dollie as Spike

I remember my high school football games with friends in this same stadium.  Now getting to watch my own kids and their friends (many are the children of my own classmates) play under the same lights is a real treat. 

 My babies 2008 - DJ Playing, Dollie Watergirl/Manager,

 and Dillon - whose story is yet to be written

As I look backwards when going through this a second time with Dillon, it's also fun to glimpse into the future.   I see the cool Moms and Dads I'll be working with in Booster Club 10 years from now.  These adorable little cheerleaders in training will be our beloved high school cheer squad.  Hopefully Dillon, Tommy, Colby, Nick, Xavier and their other buddies will play together through youth league, junior high, and one day run onto that high school field together under the lights.  They will hold hands as they take the field as captains.  They will hear the roar of their proud community behind them.  They will sweat, and hurt, and bleed, and be victorious heroes for a few nights of their life on the field.  I hope in turn they will reach down and encourage some little 7 year old boys at football camp one day too.



DJ's Dragon

DJ is away this week at FFA state convention in Lubbock.  Even though it seems this time of year he is only home from midnight to 7am every day anyway (except when bribed home for supper with favorite foods), I miss the guy.  I miss his stories.  I miss his smile.  I even kinda miss The Dragon. 

The Dragon is DJ's truck, so named for it's temperment and affinity for belching smoke in large quantities...  very large quantities....  and for it's load roar....  and that it's usually 'flying' down the road... and occasionally spitting fire.  Yikes!   LOL   Money hasn't exactly been growing on trees around our house the past few years and DJ worked hard last summer and bought this truck all by himself.  I'm really proud of him for that.  Who needs a nice shiny new truck anyway?  One with windows that actually work?  And the ceiling isn't held in place by stolen Whataburger numbers?  Or the tailgate held on with a piece of rope?  Beauty and dependability are way overrated, right? 

The Myth, The Legend... THE DRAGON  =D

 

When The Dragon rolled off the assembly line in 1988 with its cassette stereo and huge bench seats covered in red crushed velvet (you don't want to hear what DJ calls them) Reagan was president and I was still in college.  It's a wonderfully big and roomy old beast though and can not only pull big trailers with literally tons of hay or equipment, but the back seat alone can also hold approximately one ton of junk, clothing, tractor parts, tools, and all manner of assorted objects and trash.  I tease Dollie that instead of a walk-in closet she has a four wheel drive closet because her truck is always full of clothes.  DJ's truck is more of a dumpster with mud tires!

Pardon the Arsenal and It's usually NOT this clean

DJ finally cleaned his truck out last week.  The clouds parted and angels sang.  It was quite the occasion.  No, of course he didn't clean it out because I had asked him 500 times over the past 5 months.  He did it so he could fit more people in for a hog hunting trip.  Nice.  At least he found the bag of cinnamon rolls and snacks I had bought for him.  I bought them back in APRIL for Fair week.  Eeeeeww!  He even took out his special seatcovers made of green astroturf and baling string.   Nothing but the Dragon's finest imitation red velvet for his hunting buddies! 

Redneck Seat Covers

All kidding aside, it's been a really good truck.  And it's been a great teacher... of life lessons, of patience, and of auto repair.  We keep telling DJ pretty soon he's going to have a brand new truck - one piece at a time.  God Bless our friend KB (who is an absolute mechanical whiz and can fix or McGuyver just about anything) who has helped DJ keep it running.  I'm not kidding... I saw DJ and Trey get it started one time it was broke down using only a tire iron and an old pencil under the hood.  KB taught these boys some SKILLS!  

What The Dragon lacks in beauty and polish though, it makes up for in personality.  I can't help but smile when DJ sits in the driveway grinning and revving that big ole engine until it looks like our house is on fire with smoke rolling from the stacks, waiting for me to come running out the door and tell him to knock it off.  Then he'll give me that mischevious head pop and laugh at me.  DJ!!! 

The Dragon has taught him to make do with what you have and be proud of it.  It's taught that beauty is more than skin deep.  It's taught the value of ingenuity and good friends.  It's also become something of a local redneck icon... a friend told me she was discussing vehicles with her junior high age son and telling him her current very nice truck would be his when he turned 16.  He said seriously "No way.  I want to buy DJ's truck!"  Hahahaha

Like a lot of us, I also started with a real POS first car and it definitely made me appreciate the better cars I had later in life.  I know DJ will be leaving the Dragon behind soon as he moves on to better things but I have to admit I'll be a little sorry to see the big ole eyesore go.  I've gotten kind of fond of it.  Now if DJ would only do something to get rid of his darn school bus.... 

When Ya Gotta Go...

You know how when you pick your puppy up after he's been at the Vet all day and he pees about 300 hundred times before he will come in the house?  He wets every tree, foreign object, and blade of grass within site.  You seriously wonder how one little dog could possible hold so much liquid?  Well Dillon (my 7 year old) had one of those kind of afternoons.  How could one little boy possibly have to pee 57 times in a 3 hour period?  Maybe it was all that tea he drank before we left the house, or possibly the approximate half gallon of terribly overpriced soda he consumed at the movies, but he got up to go twice during the movie and then hit the restroom of every single errand stop we made afterward until we finally hit that age old dilemma at the Kroger gas pumps...  every mother of a little country boy knows what I'm talking about here... he just pops out of the back seat while I'm pumping gas and starts to "assume the position".  Eagle-eye Mom that I am, I barely caught him before he had fully reached into his shorts  "NO SIR!  You can't go right HEEERE!!"  To which I got the "Aww Mom... but I REALLY have to go BAD!"  There is no restroom anywhere nearby without going into a store or restaurant, which I honestly didn't have the time or inclination to do, and there was no way he could hold it for the 30 minute trip home so...   we improvised.  Let me just say empty Sonic drink cups in the backseat are great for "take out".  LOL

Sad thing is this was by no means the first time he's had to use a restroom alternative.  Any of you have one of those spouses like mine who do not believe in stopping any time on a long road trip except for gas?  Well my old suburban, our previous road trip vehicle extroidinaire, got about 500 miles to a tank of gas.  Calculate that out and its about EIGHT HOURS nonstop.  Which meant you better think twice about that second glass of tea, and while the girls in the family may get a very quick stop after enough whining, boys were expected to either man up and hold it or improvise.  Is it any wonder why my boys learned to prefer wide-mouth bottles of Gatorade over 20oz. soda bottles on a road trip? 

I'm a little nicer.  I will usually pull over briefly on the side of the road.  Fess up country Moms, who among us has not done the pull over on the side of the road with no traffic, open both front and back doors, and place the kid in between them while you watch for any approaching traffic?  "Hurry up!  Hurry up!  And don't pee on the door!"  Hahaha

Restroom rules are often confusing for little country boys.  On one hand they are taught it is perfectly fine to "water the bushes" at the deer lease or when working out in the pasture, but then Mom freaks out when they try that in a busy store parking lot.  Go figure?  Over the side of the boat - very good; off the side of the front porch - very bad.   At the barn - Mommy loves you; in the outfield at baseball practice - Mommy has a coronary.  It's just too confusing at times? 

Then there is the Mom dilemma of what to do when you see your precious little boy "strike the pose" in an inappropriate place but too far away to inconspicuously tell him to cease operations.  Do you scream out at him, and therefore everyone around you turns and looks at him?  Or do you act like you don't know that hick of a kid and hope no one else notices??  (Only to quietly threaten him within an inch of his life later when you catch up with him.)  Hmmmm....  motherhood is full of these earth-shattering decisions.

Of course sometimes you just can't help but laugh at these country boys...  Once at t-ball practice when Dillon was younger he went behind an outbuilding (out of sight of everyone but us) to relieve himself since there are no bathroom facilities at the rural practice field.  Only he was feeling adventurous in that magical little boy way and decided to spin around in circles while peeing.  We busted out laughing!! 

Speaking of fun and peeing in the same train of thought, any of you who have witnessed DJ's bottle trick at the stock shows will agree out of all the hilarious stuff he's pulled over the years this is probably one of his all-time best gags ever!   At cattle shows the cattle are arranged in long rows, bedded down on wood shavings which of course the cattle pee and poop onto.  The kids spend long days hanging out with the cattle and caring for them while waiting for their time to show.  Hence the age old mathmatical formula Teenagers (+) lots of idle time on their hands (=) mischief.  While our group routinely makes the long walk to facility restrooms, it would not be totally out of the question for an uncouth gentleman to take a leak in the shavings with the cattle when no one is looking.  Hence the perfect gag...  DJ will drill a small hole in the lid of a plastic water bottle with his pocketknife and then wait for a good opportunity... usually when an unsuspecting lady friend is standing around and everyone except that target is in on the joke.  Then DJ will stand near that person with his back to them, assume the guy body position (feet apart, hips thrust forward, one or both hands in the nether region), only he is perfectly zipped up and just squeezes the water bottle to make a stream.  This usually gets one of several reactions:  1) The visible and outrageous shock on their face as it dawns on them what he's supposedly doing, followed shortly by blushing and looking the other way.  2) The shock followed by looking at others and motioning "can you believe this?".  3) The shock followed by shouting and/or running away.  Guys are often a little harder to shock than the ladies.  Once DJ did this to two of our show team Dads in San Antonio, only he turned slightly when they said something to him and sprayed their feet with the stream.  Ha!  They both jumped about two feet in the air and cussed a blue streak!   All of this of course is followed by absolutely hysterical laughter from the onlookers in on the joke.  Who else but DJ would come up with that AND be able to pull it off with a straight face? 

Being a Mom to good ole country boys isn't always easy, but it never ceases to keep me on my toes and be vastly entertaining!

I Hear Voices

Technology nowadays isn't just lightning fast and state of the art, it TALKS to you.  Like I stopped by an ATM this morning and in addition to the regular screen questions and the "you will be be charged $50 to withdraw $20, do you wish to continue?"  kinda stuff, it TALKED to me.  Or rather SHE talked to me.  Ever notice that most of the voices are women?  Ever wonder why?  Hmmmm...

It also seems many of these voices have a distinctly British accent.  Is that maybe because we're supposed to associate that accent with distinction or good manners?  Well heck y'all... this is TEXAS!  Don't you think it oughta have a good ole redneck southern accent?  Even the ATM's that don't talk usually have an option for directions in Spanish.  The Chase ATM's at my hospital have a whole bunch of choices, from chinese mandarin to arabic, so why can't we have "southern english" as an option.  It could be kind of like "english pirate" on facebook?  By the way, if you've never re-set your facebook language preference to english pirate, you absolutely without question must do that for at least one day.  It is pee your pants HILARIOUS!!

So when we pull up to a Texas ATM, instead of some snooty British broad saying "Welcome to Blah Blah Bank.  Please select an option below", it would say something in a distinctly southern drawl like... "Welllll, hay thare sugar!  Howsyamomanem?"  (Translation for my out of state friends... that's "how's your Mom and them" all run together.)  Then it could wink, fart, and burp at you before saying "Well bless yur little heart, yur runnin kinda low ain't ya?  You jus take yer muney das fixin ta cum out rite cher below this here screen and spend it careful now!"   Instead of "thank you and come again" and it would be something more like "You best be gittin on down da road der.  Be sure and give yo momma a big hug from me when ya see er!"

Well shoot, the options for this would be endless!  How about an english pirate version too..."Arg Matey! Be enterin yer secret treasure code to malay yer booty!"  Or a Vegas version "Now pull that little handle on the right side of the machine to see if you will actually receive your cash below."

I mean if we gotta pay through the nose to get our own money we might as well be entertained, right?