Ft. Davis

Yesterday, Alan and Leigh and myself went to Ft. Davis for the day. I've been to the state park before, but never really went into the little town or visited the fort. I couldn't have requested a better day, as far as the weather. It was cloudy, it thundered, it poured, it paused for a little while and then rained some more. It was perfect. The Davis Mountains are really very pretty.

We ate at a Chuck Wagon BBQ place before touring the fort. I suppose if I ever visit the fort again, I won't wear a summer dress and sandals. We could have ventured off for some cool hiking had we known what to expect. We walked through the barracks and officer quarters and the hospital. I was certain a hospital from the mid to late 1800s had to be haunted, so I made sure to check for cold spots in every room. :-) I'm not much of a history enthusiast, but I do think the fort is very well done and enjoyed it way more than The Alamo.

After the fort we checked out the shops in town where I bought homemade canned pickles and Leigh bought a cookbook from the Hotel Limpia. We bought much more fudge than we needed (did I mention Leigh was with us?), Alan and Leigh got ice cream, and we headed home. If there's anything to learn from this, it's that when we travel we eat. A lot.

Green Country

Today I drove back from Oklahoma where I spent several days at DeeBee's. I haven't posted anything all week and only updated my Facebook status once or twice, because I truly took a vacation while there. I always feel that I really rest and relax at her house. We worked on our tans by the pool every day the weather allowed. We watched fireworks and made salsa and cookies and fried zuccini (fresh from her neighbor's garden). We shopped in Owasso, had lunch by the river in Jenks, and watched movies.

I guess it wasn't all relaxation - we did walk a total of 13 miles and painted one of the bathrooms. But still, I spent an incredible amount of time on her comfy couch surfing the channels and napping with the puppies and watching the rain. It was awesome, and one of my very favorite places to get away.

I was also too lazy to take the camera out of my suitcase, so here's the only picture I took. It's a blurry cell phone pic of my frozen margarita, poolside. I sent it to Alan as proof that I really do know how to relax on vacation, contrary to what he's witnessed. It make take me a couple of days to shake this vacation mode.

San Diego

So thankful it's been raining every day since we got back from San Diego rather than the 100 degree weather we had before we left. Coming home to the desert heat from perfect southern California weather would have been hard. We had a great time! Anywhere we went was no more than a 10-20 minute drive - quite a difference from last year when we'd spend an hour in LA traffic. We went to the zoo as soon as we got our rental car Friday. The San Diego Zoo is by far the best zoo I've been to, not to mention the largest and the prettiest. It was worth the high ticket price.


This puma was stalking and hissing at this lady in a wheel chair. Before this, he had charged the cage towards her. It was awesome!

What I loved about San Diego was being surrounded by water. Our hotel was on Shelter Island which is mostly a marina to house some uber fancy boats. It was a great location. Across the water we could see Coronado Island and a naval base. Our first night there, we decided to split up and have date nights. Addison and Austen walked to a nearby restaurant, while Alan and I ate outside at the hotel.

Shelter Island

Saturday morning we toured the USS Midway, an aircraft carrier used in WWII, the Vietnam War, and Operation Desert Storm. It was cool to go below deck to see the bunk areas, officer quarters, etc.

Afterwards we took the ferry to Coronado Island, where we ate at Peohe's (despite our attire of shorts and flip-flops!), pedaled a four-person cycling thing called a "surrey" searching for the Hotel de Coronado, shopped a little, and ate ice cream from Coldstone Creamery. We ferried back, went back to the hotel for a bit, and then went out for the evening to the Gas Lamp District. Gas Lamp reminded me of areas like the West End in Dallas or 6th Street in Austin, but a little more sophisticated. (Or "classy," like Ron Burgundy would say.) Let's just say the bums and tattoo parlors were not as obvious. I'm stealing these pictures from Addison:

Greystone restaurant

Sunday we took the short drive to Children's Beach at La Jolla (thanks to a tip from Doug) to see the seals and sea lions. It's hard to describe how pretty this beach is:




After stopping back at the hotel to change into our beachy gear, we headed to Mission Beach. California beaches are so pretty, but there was an awful lot of seaweed everywhere which attracted all these weird flies. Not as clean and spacious as Santa Monica Beach last year, but still very nice. Alan and Austen both tried surfing in the freezing Pacific, but I couldn't seem to get in past my ankles. We left our towels and stuff on the beach for a while and the four of us walked to lunch. When we got back, one of our bags had been tossed around a bit by seagulls who were trying really hard to get to our honey roasted almonds:

After a full day at the beach, we went back to the hotel for a while before dinner. We borrowed bikes from the hotel and rode down to the end of the island for dinner. We ate at this restaurant called Bali Hai, which served all Hawaiian or Polynesian food. You were going to eat something different no matter what you ordered. Austen had a REALLY strong Mai Tai, and I think you can tell from his eyes in this picture that he was feeling good!

Bali Hai restaurant

Monday morning we had some time before our flight, so we drove back to the area around the Midway and had breakfast at Buster's Beach House. It was also alongside a marina, and inside this cute little shopping area. We bought some souvenirs afterwards and then headed for the airport. I was concerned that four days wouldn't be long enough, but we really were able to do and see quite a bit in that short time. I think I could live by the water. It's so peaceful and so NOT the desert.

And last but not least, we had a great time with Addison and Austen. They are so cute.

Crap

As I'm pondering the fact that I need to clean out my closet again, something I do a couple times a year, I've made a decision. With each year I get older, my goal is to have less crap in my closets, the garage, the attic, etc. than the year before. I don't want my kids to have to go through piles of crap when I die. And attention to my parents: I have no intention of systematically and sentimentally combing through all your crap when you die. I'll be hiring an estate sale specialist to do that. No offense, but I don't know of any possessions you have that I need to add to my crap.

Um, sometimes I get in these moods when clutter drives me crazy. And right now it's bugging me. Our garage is out of control. My closet is ridiculous. There is crap on the dining table, the dining table that I try to keep polished and pretty even though no one ever sits there except Junior and all his HAIR. Speaking of Junior, he proudly rolls around in the mulch when I go outside and make eye contact with him. What is that about? Then he comes in the house and leaves a trail of dust and mulch everywhere on the already disgusting carpet.

I think I better go clean something to get out of this mood.

Spoiled, but not a brat.

I am feeling a bit spoiled. Friday we leave for San Diego. A few days after we get back, I leave for DeeBee's where she and I will spend the week sipping margaritas poolside. In July we have potentially two more trips, Houston and Seattle. (Actually, Houston is nothing to feel spoiled over, but Seattle could be really cool.) And before I know it, my summer will be over.

Sometimes if I'm feeling a bit spoiled, I think back to the "plasma days." Those would be the low times, several years back, when I would go to the local plasma center for an extra $25 for groceries. Eww. The last time I donated, I came home and found myself with my face plastered to the cold tile floor because 1) it helped me feel less nauseous and 2) I didn't have the strength to get up. I think Alan was a little freaked out. It was the last time I donated for a reason.

I also remember a time when I was sixteen and living with Mother and Dale in a 900 sq ft, very modest home. My room consisted of a twin bed and the washer and dryer. When the house belonged to my grandmother, that room was used as the pantry. There were occasional water bugs in there, and I recall a night when a HUGE one ran across my comforter! Oddly enough, we really weren't poor and I couldn't have been happier living there.

I'm not saying I know what it's like to live in poverty, but I've lived through tougher times. Haven't most of us? I know enough to appreciate that this will be the view from our hotel Friday night. :-)

Pantry Meals

We've coined a new term around our house - "pantry meals." That's when I totally don't want to go to the grocery store, so much so that I'll come up with a meal by throwing things together from the pantry and fridge. We're very wasteful, a trait not uncommon among fellow Americans, when it comes to food. If you looked in your pantry right now there would probably be canned goods that keep getting shoved to the back, or better yet, saved for when some organization's having a canned food drive. So I've really been trying to use the food we have on hand instead of the constant throwing-it-out. That usually means I come up with something involving pasta, since it would be sinful to NOT have pasta and tomato sauce available at ALL times. Last night, however, I made my own version of a potato casserole. Certainly not a dish for dieters, but that wasn't my goal. My goal was to stay away from HEB.

It must have been good, because Alan had about 4 helpings. That may not be saying much though, since he could probably eat hash browns every day of his life. From a 9 x 13 pan, I think we have one serving left. Anyway, here's the simple recipe:

Green Chile Potato Casserole (because I had to give it a name)

4 slices bacon

1 can diced green chiles

3 tblsp minced onion

1 bag frozen shredded hash browns

1 can cream of mushroom soup
3/4 cup sour cream (just guessing)
1/2 cup melted butter
shredded cheese for topping
salt and pepper

I cut the bacon into bite-sized pieces before frying, cooked until it was nearing the crispy point but not quite, drained the grease and then added the green chiles and minced onion. By the way, I would have used a freshly chopped onion if I would have had one. From there just cook the bacon to your desired doneness. Then I tossed the bacon mixture with everything else in a huge bowl except the cheese. I'd go easy on the salt since the bacon's so salty already. (You're going to think you need to add liquid or more soup or something, but the frozen hashbrowns have plenty of water in them.) Spread in a slightly greased or sprayed pan and top with whatever cheese you have. I went light on the cheese, only because I didn't have very much. Bake it around 400 for 30 minutes maybe? I don't know. I would even turn the broiler on for a few minutes at the end to get some crispy action going. We ate it as an entree, but it would be a great side dish as well. Oh, and we like to add Louisiana Hot Sauce to any dish like this.

So there you go - a meat and potatoes meal.

Changes, finally

I totally snagged that photo from the internet, but it is similar to what you might see along a West Texas road. I like the stormy skies, too, which is what we've been experiencing the past couple of nights. Also, WOW Blogger! You finally decided to update the template selections. What's it been, three, four years?

A simple life.

I've been amused by the dog park. Stepping inside those gates is like stepping inside an episode of The Dog Whisperer. It's so funny to watch 20 or so dogs figure each other's temperament out. They know almost immediately who's safe, who's the aggressor, who's a little scared, and they take care of it. Sometimes I wish humans were more like dogs. Except for the part where Duke peed on a woman's bare leg today. That was highly inappropriate. And embarrassing.

Oh, and before we started going to the park, we thought Duke was a big dog. He's apparently not so big:

Boys and Toys

Alan's purchase at an auction last Saturday:

For Alan this was spur-of-the-moment, because he only had 24 hours to research and consult with those in the know. Alan doesn't do spontaneous very often, but this is telling of how much he's been wanting to have a bike again. I have to admit, it's pretty.

Making up for how much time I spent on the couch yesterday.

I consider today my first real day of summer. The weekend doesn't count because 1) I had to work Saturday, and 2) having weekends off is normal. Having the first Monday off, therefore, means vacation. I should have gone to the school to take care of a deadline that was due Saturday and to also do some filing. Like what exactly is the district going to do with the data they needed Saturday? Nothing, so I'll just skip that for a while.

I should have also started and/or finished painting the new porch ceiling. The only time to work outside right now is in the morning, with temps well over 100 by afternoon. But I passed on painting as well. I see no forecast for rain in our near future, so the bare wood can be exposed a while longer.

Instead, I did something I enjoy which was go to the nursery, look at plants, buy a couple, and play with dirt. I did something else I like which is to cook, so I made a big pot of red beans, and will soon be grilling steak and baking cornbread. Alan had to be at a wellsite all day in the heat with no lunch, so I promised him a big dinner.

I also took Duke to the dog park, where he found and made what he seemed to think were his best friends for the 20 minutes we were there. I even got to see Bailey for a short time at the eye doctor. So all in all, it was a great start to summer va-cay.

My next post will be a picture of Alan's spontaneous purchase over the weekend.

21 Months

Sounds like the gestation period of a large mammal. Actually it's the period of time that I can't seem to stop calculating, thinking back to, adding to. There have been some very rough parenting moments the past 21 months. Moments we haven't shared with pretty much everyone except family members who needed to know or we needed them to know. That makes me feel guilty and awkward because I know we're keeping "secrets" and feigning normalcy. People can get their feelings hurt when they feel they aren't important enough or close enough to you to be confided in. I've allowed friendships to suffer, because it was easier to distance myself than take a chance on someone asking too many questions.

We've experienced a lot of emotions - sorrow, disappointment, shame, anger, extreme fear, and oddly, relief. Sometimes your kids do things that at the time you're really upset about, yet you know in the back of your mind you'll laugh about someday. These are not the kinds of things we've experienced. It has sucked, and I have sucked as a parent at times.

Feeling shame is a big one, because shame led to envy. Alan quoted something to me a few weeks ago that was an "a-ha" moment for me. He said that Dave Ramsey (of course it would be Dave Ramsey that Alan is quoting!) said something to the effect of "Greed is when you want what others have; envy is when you don't want others to have what they have, just because you can't have it." Ouch. That totally hit home with me. Shamefully, I've had some moments the past few years when rather than respect and admire and be happy for people who seem to have great lives and wonderfully-balanced kids, I've envied them. That's horrible. I really have been trying to change that the past few months, and thankfully that poignant quote is a reminder of how ugly that green-eyed monster can be.

So why mention all this now. Yesterday was the last day of school, a day some teenagers might do some "celebrating," yet we were not woken up in the middle of the night with distressing news. But I woke up several times looking at the clock and wondering. Thank you God, for the peaceful night. It was a milestone, of sorts. And I've just been feeling this increasing need to release some of this, whatever it is. I can't find a word for what I'm carrying around.

Having said all that, life is not horrible. Some things are really good. But even the things that aren't still have value, like little opportunities for growth. I may not look back and laugh at some experiences, but at least I can look back and be thankful for what I learned.

I spy a finished project...

It's done:

I had the honors of taking the first bath, and a bubble bath at that. I don't take baths in this house, because I have a thing about old icky bathrooms. So it's been a while since I've had a bath. I believe I'm a bit fatter around the middle since my last one. If you're having a fat day, taking a bath is a bad idea. Everything seems to expand in all the wrong places and float to the top like a buoy. And the bubbles didn't help hide it, either. I did discover, however, that a nice soaking bath is a great way to remove paint and caulk from your skin!

The room could use a little decorating, but I'll get to that later. All that matters is we're through, and we're still married. :-)

The porch is also done, minus ceiling paint:

I think if I were an outsider looking in, I'd be thinking "um, big deal." It's just a plain ole porch. But if you had seen it before - the dated, closed-in walls with the siding that was literally falling off, you'd appreciate this as much as I do. It feels so much better.

I don't know what the next project is. For now, my nails are clean and I get to read my book that's been sitting patiently on the couch.

Independence

I've probably said before that I believe in the motto, "if you want something done, do it yourself," as it pertains to women. I think girls/women should learn to be self-reliant. You're not always going to have a guy around, so be able to take care of yourself.

I like conquering (or at least trying to conquer) things around the house: vacuum cleaners, garbage disposals, clogged toilets, etc. And so I'm thrilled that I've finally figured out the new gas-powered edger/weedeater combination thingy we bought. We bought it for ME, so I was really getting frustrated that I was having so much trouble with it. It's so friggin heavy, and although I'm not teeny-tiny, I'm not a big girl either. But I'm proud to say I can now manipulate that power tool like a samurai sword! Although I am worried that by summer's end my right arm will look like Popeye's.

Now this doesn't mean that I don't need a man. I need one in particular and would never want to live without Alan. And I will gladly accept the things he does for me that I could and should do myself. He brings me aspirin and a glass of water. He gets me a blanket (sometimes he throws it at me, but hey - same end result). He pumps the gas in my car and cleans the windows while I just sit there enjoying the breeze. The point is, I can take care of myself if I need to. I just don't always want to.

Food, fondly

Everyone should have a specialty when it comes to cooking. Have at least one dish that you do really well that you can fall back on when necessary. Mine happens to be green pepper steak, and okay my tuna casserole is awesome, too. But neither is difficult to make or requires much finesse in the kitchen. So I don't have a lot to brag about.

Some people have taught me what I consider to be their specialties. I learned how to make beans and cornbread from Mother. In Texas, we say we're "making beans" not "cooking beans." She didn't tell me traditional measurements, but rather showed me how much salt to pour into my palm. When to add the salt is important, too: You wait until the beans' markings have faded, take one out and mash it on the counter with a fork. If it mashes easily, you're ready for the seasonings. And although I feel I make a big pot of beans that are just as good as hers, my cornbread doesn't compare. I just can't replicate it. I think that's fitting, considering she had to make cornbread countless times growing up in a poor family.

I learned how to make chicken fried steak and gravy from my stepdad, Dale. The important part is the gravy - I vividly recall him showing me how to season the drippings and flour with salt and pepper at just the right time, before adding the milk. It's perfect every time, but I'd still rather have him make it. Somehow it's just better.

Banana pudding is my paternal grandmother's specialty (in my mind anyway). Mema made banana pudding for me and DeeBee everytime we visited, it seems. She never used instant pudding but rather made the from-scratch recipe on the box of Nabisco's Nilla Wafers. I use the same recipe today and refuse to try an instant version. Maybe it's more for sentimental reasons, but I hope I always take the time to get out the double boiler and make it slowly.

Breakfast was my dad's specialty, and probably still is. He didn't wait until Saturday or Sunday for a big breakfast. If he was so inclined, I'd wake up on a school morning to a full blown buffet - eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, and my favorite part - he'd add freshly sliced tomatoes and avocados. Doesn't it just make you feel good when someone cooks a big meal for you? I know kids tend to take things like that for granted, but I truly remember loving Daddy's breakfasts. I hope I told him "thank you" at the time.

Funny how memories associated with food are so powerful.

Count to 10

Not gonna lie, I'm tired. As in tired "of" things, not physically tired. I know so, because the other day I posted something on Facebook that sounded quite whiny, and I really don't like to read those whiny, "woe is me" posts.

For the first time in a very long time, I dreaded going to work today. The reasons are varied and don't matter, as they would be very whiny.

Tomorrow I dread because I have to deal with contractors on a project I've grown very tired of. Due to circumstances, I'll likely be irritated by day's end and biting my tongue (if that's possible with me of late).

I also have a parent conference tomorrow that has me worked up. This encounter, among others, has me questioning how long I want to teach. The first job I ever loved, and I'm already considering my staying power.

So I'm not sleeping right now. I'm mulling over how I'm going to handle these things in such a way that I'll still like myself at the end of the day.

I hope I'm not out of Nyquil. :-)

It's hot in Texas.

It's days like today, 95 degrees in the sun for over three hours:



that I fondly remember days like this:

(This is Alan. I like him.)

And this is one of many students that makes me love my job. She's as sweet as she looks.

Duke Bear

Here sits a puppy who has big dreams. He wants to chase tennis balls, cats, rabbits, squirrels, birds, lizards, pretty much anything that moves (unfortunately that includes kids racing by on bikes). He wants to run without a leash through tall grass and over rocks and up and down hills and swim in freezing water temps. And the poor thing has to stay in a backyard all day while his pack leaders are gone. I feel sorry for him. He should be a hunting dog, and we just aren't hunters. But we showed him a good time camping over the weekend. Maybe we should do that more often.

Standardized

If I've been keeping to myself more than usual or coming home not wanting to do ANYTHING, this is a clue that it's testing season in Texas public schools. It'll all be over next Thursday, and whatever skills my students choose to apply or not apply on their tests will be out of my control. Some people are in favor of pay for performance for teachers. That's fine - just give us a fair playing field. Test every student's IQ, and while you're at it test them for learning disabilities, dyslexia, ADHD, and emotional disturbances. And don't forget to take into account their exposure to reading and correctly spoken English at home. These are many of the students I'm trying to reach every day and consequently wouldn't trade for a privileged group.

Today in one of my classes only ONE student raised his hand to answer the question, "explain what synonym means." I about died. I just hope the rest of the students were so worn out from lack of A/C that their brains were temporarily fried.

We call this his "Bugs Bunny Toe"

On being single

Okay, clearly I'm not and don't want to be. I'm just making observations this week, this being the first time I can remember when I've been completely by myself for a whole week:

- I would probably be super skinny and healthy. I could live on vegetables with some occasional Cheetos and Girl Scout cookies thrown in. But mostly vegetables.

- I can watch "my shows" whenever I want. Alan and I have many things we like to watch together and a few things we don't. I'm sure if I were gone for several days he'd be watching Family Guy, Squawk Box, or any movie he's seen 10+ times already. I've been watching a million episodes of House Hunters International.

- I wonder how long it would be before I could sleep comfortably in the bedroom and not on the couch. Considering the news of burglaries in the surrounding neighborhood over the past few months, I'm not loving the idea of sleeping where I can't hear someone trying to break in. These particular burglaries take place at night while people are at home in bed. It's as if the burglars WANT to confront the homeowners. Creepy.

- It's not a good idea to watch scary movies by yourself. See above.

- It takes a good 5-6 days to fill the dishwasher. Likewise on the washing machine. And come to think of it, the trash. But I still don't like taking the trash out, even if it's only been once this week.

- I just can't walk the dog as much as Alan. He takes Duke for a walk every day, religiously. Literally, rain, sleet, or snow. I've witnessed it.

- The house is cleaner, yes. But I find a clean house is typically an empty house and thus, a lonely house.

I'm ready to be married again.

Trash to Treasure

Before: White Trash



After: Country Cute

Thanks to my father-in-law, Leigh, who did most of it by himself while we were trekking around D.C.

Pontius Pilate, that's me!

So many things I love about teaching, and then there are parents. I actually had a parent compare (on Good Friday, no less!) the consequence I gave her daughter for not having her homework to the crucifixion of Christ. The consequence? She had to walk at recess instead of play.

On the Surface

I sat in one of those tiny patient rooms at the doctor's office today, and sat, and sat, and sat. So I had all this free time on my hands to think, with no magazine or book in hand. You know how when you have too much time to think that you sort of overdo it, just a bit? I started imagining that the doctor comes in and questions why I wanted this cyst removed from my arm. Does it cause me physical discomfort? No. Does it bother me? Hell yeah. In a very vain sort of way. I hate it. It's ugly and embarrassing. And so I imagined the doctor was going to object to removing it, wherein my pleading would begin. Look Doc, I have plenty of other skin imperfections that I'm self-conscious about and can't change, so you will take my money and remove this cyst TODAY.

Turns out I didn't need to plead or argue, but was still given plenty of time to think about the superficial things that bother me about me. I used to be able to say that there was one part of my body that I thought was okay - my legs. I've always had these long, thin legs and probably always will. But over the past few years I've become quite the spotted freak with what I like to call freckles, but what my gynecologist sort of implied were age spots. OMG. That was hard to swallow. And the only thing I know to do to somewhat diminish them? Get really tan. Not a great alternative.

And then I have the worst stretch marks ever, and have for the past 19 years. I try to embrace the scars as proof of bringing my daughters into this world. But no matter how much I love the girls, it doesn't lessen the sting when I look in the mirror.

I'm also starting to see a little age in my face and neck. Now truly, I am trying to embrace my age. I've earned it, right? I don't mind a few little lines here and there, but that doesn't stop me from applying wrinkle creams and moisturizer every day.

I don't want to be this vain. I don't think it's been very healthy for my daughters to hear me complaining about my body over the years either. I hope they are very happy with themselves, inside and out.

Anyway, back to my doctor's appointment. I've been elated for three weeks knowing I was able to get in to this particular surgeon to have the cyst removed, and I seriously had to work hard to stop smiling during the whole two-hour appointment. All in the name of vanity. So maybe it was supposed to be a reality-check when the doctor told me it was a good thing I came in. The cyst looked "peculiar" he said and needed to come out. It's probably fine, and I'm not worried in the least, but wouldn't that just be a kick in the pants? :-)

Why Puppies Are Awesome

They like to cuddle.

They're kind of like babies only better because there are no diapers, no painfully long crying spells...I could go on and on.

You can sneak them into stores in your purse if you are so inclined.

They relieve stress.

I've yet to see an ugly puppy. Ugly dogs, yes. But no ugly puppies.

(Here is where I would insert a picture of maybe the cutest puppy ever. That would be Addison's puppy, Betsey, who we've been babysitting all weekend and spoiling rotten. But my camera cord is destroyed and I therefore have pictures in limbo.)

You get so lost in their cuteness that you forget about other stuff.

And lastly, PUPPY BREATH!

Little Things

We saw some really "big" things in D.C., both literally and figuratively. But there were some little things we really enjoyed:

The coffee shop. We walked to Caribou Coffee every morning for the most awesome oatmeal, muffins, and coffee (or for Alan that would be hot chocolate). I'm going to miss that oatmeal and will be trying to recreate it at home.

The Metro. Oh my gosh - how fun to zip around the city on a subway! We didn't rent a car and relied completely on public transit or our feet. And we never took a cab - it was either the metro, a bus, or a shuttle. Everyone was so nice helping us find our way around. Maybe it was the beautiful weather affecting people, but they were really very friendly and approachable. As far as using our feet for transportation, by the end of the third day we were having a lot of trouble standing or walking for very long without looking for the nearest bench. Ouch. It made the metro even more awesome.

The food. It wasn't so much that the food was just good, it was that it was different. We don't have different here in Midland. We have American, Mexican, and some Asian. It's just fun to try new things, like the awesome mussels at Tony and Joe's or this platter of calimari.

Standing where they stood. It amazed me to be in the Capitol, particularly in the old House chamber, where Lincoln (among many others) also stood, worked, debated, argued. That's not a picture of the chamber but is the inside of the dome. I actually thought the painting in the center was kind of silly. It shows George Washington as he's ascending into Heaven.

The "quiet" at Arlington Cemetery. You were expected to be quiet and respectful, and in doing so made it all the more somber and humbling.

The diversity. Another thing I like about big cities is that the diverse population is also an educated population. Not something we have a lot of around here. Umm...I don't have a picture to go with that.

Anyway, I could go on and on about how wonderful the trip was. I hope it doesn't come across as being boastful, but rather hope I'm conveying how excited I was to be there and how appreciative I am of Alan for such a wonderful surprise.

Wow.

I'm going to be standing at the foot of this in a few short days. What pretty much no one knows about me is that I have this really corny, patriotic side. I'm that person that loves the National Anthem and enjoys saying the pledge at school. So this trip is definitely a bucket list type of thing.

Goodbye, Winter. I will not miss you and will not return your calls.

I love, love spring. I know it's not an original thought, but man there is nothing like playing with soil and plants to lift someone's spirits. (Notice I said plants, not weeds.) If the plants survive, these pots should be overflowing by summer and dangling low enough for Duke to destroy them. At which point I'll have to move them out to the front porch, but I'm okay with that.

These are the petunias I planted this winter, which the nursery told me wouldn't do well in the shady areas of my porch. It appears they were mistaken. Wait, are these pansies or petunias? I can never keep them straight. I think they're petunias. Help me, Elizabeth. Anyway, they've done fine with very little sun and a gardener who forgets to water them.

And above is Alan and Leigh working on the new side gate and fence to replace this one:

Pretty amazing that Duke hasn't figured out he could just breathe hard on the gate to find freedom. I think it means he likes it here and has no interest in leaving.

So I'm basically in a pretty good mood today, and that is pretty darn cool.

Guessing this isn't what God had in mind.

I'm well aware that I'm not doing Lent correctly. I gave up three things for these forty days, or isn't it really 46 including Sundays? Anyway, I gave up chips of any kind, french fries, and snacking after dinner. Notice a trend here? I'm giving up things that I shouldn't be eating anyway and by giving up will possibly benefit me with a couple of lost pounds. It's all me, me, me. And then I happened upon this religious/educational show one morning early that reminded me of how poorly I'm going about this.

Today's participants usually do one or all of three things: 1) give something up, 2) add something positive (prayer perhaps), and 3) almsgiving. I didn't know what almsgiving was exactly, which is quite telling of my charitable nature.

So I've got two out of three in the works, but that third one's not my specialty. Does it have to be charitable towards people? Because I'd really rather go volunteer at the SPCA. Uh-oh...there's goes that "me" business again.

I'm not having trouble with the first one, so I think that defeats the purpose. The second one - well I am praying a whole lot more, but since I have REALLY MAJOR issues and CONFUSION around how prayer works...well let's just say I don't think my heart is in it the way it should be. I have never, ever been able to reconcile prayer in an acceptable, meaningful manner. Here's what I've recently decided due to life's events: do not pray for action, healing, guidance. Rather, pray for forgiveness, thanksgiving, and simply to talk to and therefore have a relationship with God.

That's where I'm at in my journey through Lent. I'm trying.

And since I gave up blogging for so long that now no one really looks at this, I realize I'm pretty much talking to myself. And that's okay right now. I just need to talk.

Inconsequential

Ever feel that way? It's a given to feel that way in the grand scheme of things, to feel unneeded like a speck of sand in this big ole' universe. No big deal. It's quite another to feel that way in the eyes of someone you care about. I wonder how many times I've made someone feel inconsequential. A friend, a loved one, a student. I know I've done it, and that's sad. I need to work harder to make people feel important. Because there's that little thing called karma.

A Christmas Memory

I'm stealing this idea from Elizabeth, because her latest post reminded me of one of my favorite childhood memories of Christmas. When we were little enough to still believe in Santa Claus, our parents had a tradition that I've never heard anyone else mention.

On Christmas Eve, after it got dark, one of my parents would take me and DeeBee for a ride around town to look for Rudolph's red nose in the sky. No matter how cold it was, we'd roll the car windows down to listen for the sleigh bells and peer into the sky to find that glowing nose. No telling how many times we'd see a tower with a red twinkling light at the top and mistake it for Rudolph. But we weren't fooled by that - we were out to find the real thing. The adventure was always fun of course, but usually unsuccessful. Except for that one year.

I must have been about 5 or 6 years old, making DeeBee around 7 or 8. I remember that we weren't too far from the house when I looked up and saw a red light descending towards our house! I recall yelling, "Daddy, there it is! It's going to our house! Hurry and get back home!" I also remember Daddy smiling and chuckling and doing whatever he could to delay getting back to the house. (While one parent was driving the kids around, the other was home putting out the Christmas gifts that Santa "dropped off.") I didn't understand this until years later, so I was pretty frustrated that he didn't rush back to the house. When we finally returned home, my mother was there saying "Oh, you just missed Santa!" It was so real and pretty darn magical!

I was so certain of what I saw, that when I tell kids about it today, I don't feel I'm lying. My six-year old eyes saw what they saw. What an awesome memory and creative tradition my parents gave us!

LiMINTless

Back in April, Stride Gum promoted a contest to rename their mint-flavored gum. The grand prize winner was to receive $10,000 and a year's supply of Stride gum with the new name on the package. Stride later closed the voting and ended the contest claiming a "technical glitch." Instead of allowing online voting to take place, they just randomly selected five entries and gave them each $25,000.

Addison entered with the name "LiMINTless." Stride sent her a box of gum with her entry name on it and an apology letter. At the very least, she has a lot of gum and a funny story. :-)

"Wild" Morning

We're having a rough go of it lately with our pets. Just looking out the backdoor window, I see two handsaws dragged out into the yard, a plastic container of what was probably fertilizer or weed killer (some kind of poison, I'm sure), and the water hose wrapped 4 times around the tree. The rest of the hose is in bite-size pieces throughout the yard. And that's Duke's handiwork just TODAY.

I don't think he made a good impression while Leigh, my father-in-law, was visiting either. Leigh was staying in the guest house out back, the little house with a door that doesn't always stay closed during a strong wind storm. Duke discovered that if he ran full speed towards the door, he could easily knock it open. And open it he did, and took it upon himself to drag many of my father-in-law's belongings out into the yard. Not all of the items survived, if you know what I mean.

And then there's the latest episode with Junior, that I'm still a little shocked by. Everyone knows he's mean and bites and stalks and attacks one or all of us every single day. I woke up this morning and turned on the TV to just lay in bed for a while. Junior walked up wanting to be petted, which I obliged KNOWING I shouldn't. I don't let him do this, but for some reason this morning I decided to be generous. I only petted him a few seconds before realizing I should just push him off, so I raised my hand to push him away...and in a split second he attacked me, biting my face in three places. It was so sudden I didn't have time to get him off of me quickly enough.

Once I did though, well...let's just say I got him to leave the room. The mirror revealed 6 punctures and enough blood to piss me off a little more. I felt pretty stupid letting him come near me like that, so I don't blame the cat. I still make the claim that he's a feral cat, and that we'll basically be living with a semi-wild animal under our roof until something "unfortunate" happens. Okay, I'm just kidding with that little bit of sarcasm...I'm not going to do anything to him. And I'm not scared of my cat at all, just still reeling from what happened this morning. Mostly I think it pissed me off because I'm vain, and I had to go to school looking like I had a major breakout. I thought about taking a picture and posting it, but like I said - I'm vain.

Anyway, what do you do? I know if I had a small child and the cat did this to him/her, I'd probably feel obligated to get rid of it. I think what bothers me is that we're taking care of an animal that no one else would have, and it's just kind of weird when they turn on you. So add one more story to the list of Junior stories. I sure hope Duke never bites my face, because I'm likely to lose half of it if he does.

The End!

Not really. Or maybe it is. I just can't think of a good reason to keep up this blog. The culprit is definitely Facebook. I'm on there everyday keeping up to date with what's going on in everyone's lives, and likewise posting updates about mine, that I'm not seeing a use for this blog anymore. So...

I got nothing!

Boo

I'm pretty sure I could have paid half of what these cost me to make, had I just opted for store-bought decorations. I'm hoping once I finish stringing the lights underneath, they'll look cute for Halloween. Right now, I'm not so sure...

Marathon #2

Alan ran in his second marathon yesterday, the West Texas Crossroads Marathon in Odessa. He beat his 4 hour goal with a time of 3:39:07. But you know with Alan there's always a story...something always happens.

A little background...we're sitting on the sidelines yesterday (me, Naomi, Addison and Austen) waiting for Alan's finish, when we see this runner coming with a police SUV tailing right behind him. As he gets closer to the finish line, he sort of stops and grabs at his leg, so we think he's really having trouble with cramps. But he keeps on and actually speeds up and hauls butt across the finish. As he passes us, we notice his shoulder blade on one side is red and really scraped up. It looked like he may have been bleeding. He crosses the line and practically collapses into the arms of a couple people.

So just a couple minutes later here comes Alan, and as soon as he finishes and sits down he says, "have I got a story for you." Turns out, when Alan was at about mile 22, he's trucking along and hears this loud "whomp!" behind him. He turns around to see a guy rolling on top of the hood of a car, falling off, and rolling on the ground. This guy gets up and keeps on going. The funny part of the story is how Alan, although truly sorry for the poor guy who got hit by a car, is PISSED that he then got passed by this guy!

But all in all it was a good morning and fun to be there. Thanks to Addison (it was her birthday yesterday!) and Austen who came out to cheer Alan on:



Wow, check out that gorgeous West Texas scenery!

Domestic Violence

Every bite Junior gets from another animal he fully deserves, I'm sure. But what he doesn't know is that those bites are expensive. The last time he was bitten ended in a $250 vet visit by the time all was said and done. For most pets, it probably would have been a third that much. But with Junior, it requires sedation due to his "demeanor." To translate, that means he's an asshole.

So this time we're a little wiser. Alan called the vet and explained what was going on. They remember Junior. They were more than happy to provide us with all the medications we'd need to take care of the problem AT HOME. So here we go again - oral meds twice a day to a cat who aspires to stalk, attack, and draw blood on his victims (that would be us) about every other day. On top of that, we get to insert ointment into his abscessed wound. Good times!

And regardless of the fighting and hissing and dodging of razor sharp fangs, we'll do whatever it takes to keep him around. I love my Junior Lou.

Please don't see me, please don't see me!

Poor Junior. Sometimes he just needs to get away.

Puppy adventures

Every day Duke finds something new to play with (destroy), and today was no exception. We don't know where the ads came from, but leave it to Duke to find something that will make a huge mess. He had some fun with the water hose and sprinkler, too.



His inside manners have been really atrocious, especially when someone comes over. But we recently discovered the training tool that gets him to stop jumping, biting, and barking without having to lay a hand on him - a spray bottle! It works wonders, and I don't have to feel bad. Even with all the messes, he's been an awesome puppy and such a sweet companion. And just look at that face.

Morning Glory

Once again this crazy vine grew up through the rotted out seat of this old chair. It's thicker this year and seems to take the shape of the chair. I wish I was a good enough gardener to plan something like this! And it's the only plant Duke hasn't dug up.

Serenity now, serenity now

Earlier this morning I spent a half hour ranting and raving about the "disappearance" of one of my new shirts. I woke up Bailey and rooted through her room and closet, assuming she tried it on and then threw it on the floor or stuffed it in a drawer (which occasionally happens). I silently accused Alan of taking it to the cleaners by mistake with his clothes (thankfully he wasn't here or I would have questioned him). I considered maybe the dog took it, or that someone snuck in the garage and stole some clothes, or that it fell behind the washer and dryer. I mean, how do you lose a shirt? A sock, yes. A shirt, no.

I looked EVERYWHERE. Three times. During this time I had been doing laundry and had carefully checked the load of clothes that I put in the washer. Still nothing. I looked some more, and all the while I am absolutely fuming. You see, this has happened before - sometime last year right after buying some new clothes for school, I lost a shirt. I liked that shirt so much that I went back to the store and bought another one. And here I was again, the shirt I liked the most was missing.

So as I'm considering getting dressed and going to Target to buy the shirt again (I really liked this shirt - Bailey said it made my boobs look big!), I notice the washer has stopped and decide to check that load again. I take the load out piece by piece to place in the dryer, and there it is - in the washer. How I missed it the three previous times I looked through the clothes, is a mystery. Or is it? Sometimes you just gotta wonder if someone's trying to tell you something.

Something like, "CALM THE HELL DOWN!"

Trying so hard to be good...

Nicknames

We have pet names, for our pets. Lots of names. Does that make us obsessed with our pets, or does everyone do this? Please say someone else does this.

For Junior:

Junior Lou
Mr. Lou
Mister
Satan
Big Sweet Kitty
Tubby
and when I'm tired of being attacked, Whorebag

Duke's only been with us a few short weeks and has already accumulated quite a few:

Dukester
Dukie
Dukies
Duuuuuuuuke
Duke-a-licious
Retard

It's probably good they don't know what we're saying.

While it's still clean...

After taking these pictures, I kept trying to figure out why my room looks so dull compared to last year. And then I realized that all my walls in this new room are white. Dull, stark white.





It looks better in person, but you get the idea.

Pre-School (Get it?)

I blog. I blog too much. I don't blog at all. I'd say I'm in the latter stage right now. I've been busy at school the last couple of weeks and will be doing much of the same for the next three weeks. I guess you could call it "teacher nesting," where we prepare, prepare, prepare for the arrival of a new batch of kids. It's kind of exciting actually to anticipate what they'll each be like, what they'll be capable of, or what challenges they'll have. You can't imagine how much we enjoy talking about the kids behind their backs. It's like we get to gossip all day. It's also a good way to vent about the ones you just can't stand. Good times!

So this Saturday is Alan's triathlon. I have no doubt he'll do well, as long as his bike holds up. And then about two months from now he'll run in his second marathon in Odessa. I'm hoping to round up a local group to go cheer him on. In Albuquerque for his first marathon, it was just Alan, myself, and his dad, so I'm hoping for a cheering section this time.

Maybe I'll post some pictures of my classroom. I'm still a new enough teacher that I get excited (i.e., corny) about my room.

The Dukester

Well, let's see...we paid $25 for this lab/retriever mix named Duke, then promptly spent about $200 on food, supplies, a cage to handle him up to his future size, and a visit to the vet. I've since dug up every flower, plant and shrub in the two larger beds out back with no intention of replacing them for a while. What's the point? Duke digs and chews and eats everything but his poop (so far). I've also cleaned up quite a few "number ones" in the house, because we've still a ways to go before we master house training.



And so far it's all been worth it. He's just so darn adorable!

Sixteen Candles

This will forever be my favorite photo of Bailey.

I like that it's personal and intimate, and that only the people who really knew Bailey at this age understand what they're seeing in this photo. Much has changed since the day I took this picture of her pouting on the trampoline for reasons only she understood, and I'm anxious, nervous, and excited to see what the next few years will bring. Happy Sweet Sixteen, Bailey!

Playmates?

Several people have asked how Junior and Duke are getting along, or rather how Junior is reacting to us bringing a large crazy puppy into his domain. This pretty much sums it up:



Duke thinks Junior is awesome. Junior thinks Duke is another target.