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    After a while living this pampered life, Bert became withdrawn and quit eating.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....  =)