Posing

I spent a few hours with Bailey this morning, taking pictures for her senior year. These are the casual shots that kids seem to be doing these days, and then they still get their formal (professional) shot for the yearbook. We took about 130 pictures, so it's hard to choose a few of my favorites. Not to mention the whole bias thing about being her mom and thinking they're all good.

These were, of course, all taken on the grounds of our mansion.

Freak show

I think you see the resemblance. He's even workin' the camera.

Actually Duke had laser eye surgery yesterday to correct the entropion he had in both eyes (bottom lid was rubbing the cornea). I'm afraid to take him out in public for fear of scaring little children.

Even less picky now.

Twice when I was little I tried sweet potatoes, and twice I threw up. It's the only food I can think of that I've refused to eat since then. I'm not a picky eater, and apologies to those this might offend, but picky eaters kind of get on my nerves. I mean, it's one thing if you've tried a lot of foods and genuinely discovered you don't like it, but it just seems to me that some people think it's cute or endearing when they turn their noses up at everything. They'll say it looks funny or feels funny or just sounds like something you shouldn't eat. Alan won't eat guacamole or any other food (if there is one) that starts with those three letters, because it sounds too much like "guano." Bat poop. Luckily Alan isn't a picky eater, so I can overlook that nonsense.

Anyway, we're eating at this awesome restaurant in Fredericksburg over the weekend, and I get this epiphany: Try the damn sweet potatoes. You're not seven years old anymore. You might not like it, but you probably won't vomit. So I did and well...they taste like potatoes. Who knew?! So I took it one step further and told myself I'd buy a sweet potato when we got back home and try it again. I decided on baked sweet potato fries:

Yeah, I sort of overcooked them, but they were still good. I don't think I would like candied sweet potatoes or yams or whatever you call them at Thanksgiving, but I can see baking, mashing, frying up sweet potatoes from now on. They're actually very nutritious.

Makes me wonder what else I'm missing out on because of a childhood experience gone wrong?

A little German town

We stayed at a B&B this weekend at the Palo Alto Creek Farm right outside of Fredericksburg, Texas. It's an actual working farm, and all the structures (including the ones used for the B&B) were built in the mid to late 1800s. "Western" is not my design choice, but it fit the farm of course and was so well done. I think it would be fun to own a B&B someday, so I took a ton of pictures.

This screened-in porch wrapped around three sides of the cabin.

This is what I love about B&Bs! You feel so pampered.

We visited a winery but an actual tour wasn't available that day. Still, we sampled six wines apiece, which seemed to have given Alan a mild headache the rest of the weekend.

Saturday morning we headed for Enchanted Rock State Park to of course hike to the top of said rock. I stopped a few times and let my heart stop pounding through my chest, visibly like you see in cartoons. But I kept going and wasn't about to be beaten by the 5-year old wearing purple crocs. It was hot, really pretty, and good exercise to justify how much I was going to eat the rest of the day.

Prickly pears are so weird, yet kind of cool when they're blooming. Click on the photo for the close-up so you can see the creepy brown bug.

We had a great lunch on Main Street and then went shopping. Shopping is the main event in Fredericksburg. This little town of about 9,000 has some of the most unique shops I've ever seen, all on one little street. I enjoyed about half of it, the other half spent in misery trying to find a shop that offered the use of their facilities. Only after a long search did we discover that many of the shop windows displayed a map showing the location of public restrooms up and down Main Street. Grrr! But we shopped some more and I got a few knick-knacks. All necessities of course.

For dinner that night we found a new favorite restaurant. As ridiculously cliche as it is, we actually gave our compliments to the chef. I know, how corny! The food was so good that I actually tried a bite of sweet potato. But that is a whole other post, my friend.

Anyway, it was a great getaway for just the two of us. We've been to Fredericksburg several times now, and I have a feeling that even when we're someday living out of state, we'll find a way to go back.

And that's final. I think.

Okay, so we've decided to go with carpet. I understand the trend towards wood flooring, I really do. It's gorgeous. But like the tile, or at least the tile we chose, wood is expensive and would need to cover much more square footage than the carpet. If we thought we'd be in this house for years to come, we might go that route. It's hard to put thousands into a home you feel is short-term. And we still have a couple things that reeaaally need to be done to update our home (such as the vintage '70s appliances). Translation: more money needed.

But here was another deciding factor. We've been living with this hard surface floor for over a week now (since I already pulled up the old carpet), and honestly we DON'T LIKE IT. Alan and I are barefoot people. With a hard surface, there's apparently nowhere for the little specs of dust and debris to hide except on your feet. Ewww. We miss the soft, cozy feel of carpet. And besides that our furniture is sliding all over the place, particularly when our 60 lb dog dives into or pushes off from it.

I read everyone's suggestions from here and Facebook to Alan, and it was fun to get your opinion. But by Friday we'll have ordered our new, comfy, warrantied-from-cat puke-stains, frieze carpet!

Help

Our dilemma: we're either replacing the living room and den carpeting with new carpet or with tile. If we replace it with carpet, it's about $4,000 cheaper since we're only covering those two rooms. If we replace it with tile, we have to remove and replace the kitchen, living room, den, and hallway flooring (we think it would be weird to have a tile that's adjacent to a different tile in the kitchen and hallway - too many different hard surfaces).

The tile would update the house and likely be more appealing to future buyers. But it's friggin expensive.

The carpet would be cozier, quieter, and cheaper, but way harder to maintain and keep clean prior to moving someday.

We could be here another year or five years, who knows.

Going with carpet frees up money for other projects, like new appliances and a new (used) car for Alan.

Going with tile means our home is more attractive, and I don't have to cringe every time Junior pukes up yellow stuff.

I'm leaning towards the carpet; Alan's leaning towards the tile. But we're both no where near making a decision.

The old carpet is already pulled up, so we need to do something soon! Impart your wisdom upon us, please.

The old fallback

When all else fails, plant Lantana. And I should know, because I fail a LOT. Full sun, little to no water, it quadruples in size in a couple months, and it comes back the next year. My kind of plant for the desert. Now if I can just find something that works as a dog repellent.

Duke says hi.

I've been playing around with the manual settings on my camera, and it's clearly going to take me some practice to get the hang of this. This photo is not at all what I was going for. But hey look, I'm really good at getting Duke's dog tag in focus!



Duke will be my guinea pig for quite some time.

Hideaway

This weekend Alan and I are driving to Fredericksburg for one last getaway. We're staying at this quaint little B&B cabin:

Think calm, peace, relaxation. After the past week, it's much needed.

Happy 17th

I warned about the scanning, but since today's Bailey's 17th birthday I couldn't resist. Thought I'd share a few of my favorite pictures from when she was little.

I love this one. I love how her pupils are HUGE and how there's a little piece of gum sticking to the front of her tooth. Why anyone (probably her grandmother!) was letting a toddler chew gum is beyond me.

I like this one because her hair was short, and it wasn't short for very long. It tips me off that she couldn't have been more than two or so. I like that the pink hand-me-down bed is in the photo. I like that the grey and white stuffed dog is there, and her swimming floaties are on the bedpost. And I like how Bailey is looking at the person taking the picture, which I'm almost certain was Addison.

It's grainy and blurry, but I LOVE this picture. It is sooooo Bailey. Her dad and Addison and I are riding away in a little motor boat while Bailey's staying on shore with her Papa because, NO ONE KNOWS. She got upset and mad all the time about things that we never knew. That child would not explain what was bothering her, ever. We'd just shrug our shoulders and give her space, because the slightest acknowledgement that something was wrong just made it worse. I love how her Papa is totally ignoring her little "mood" and acting silly as usual.

Her hair started growing quickly after she was two or so, and grew and grew. It had reached her lower back by the time she was four. I remember brushing and drying her hair and always telling her how much I wanted her hair for my own. It was beautiful.

She was just a beautiful child and still is. I'll have some updated pics of her this weekend. Happy Birthday Bailey!

My newest toy

Be prepared to be inundated with old photos because Oh My Goodness, I have a scanner. The things I can do with a scanner? The photoshopping, the digital scrapbooking, the posting of "here's my bell bottoms from the 70s" pics - the possibilities are endless. I can't wait.

So here's a snippet of what I can't wait to do - scan all the photos from our wedding and reception:



I couldn't stop smiling. I think that was a good sign. I've learned over the years that not everyone was sure this was the best thing for Alan. Marrying a divorced, older woman, mother of two? I don't blame them.



But we knew. What an awesome day.

Filling the void

Alan left today for Houston until Thursday. I'm attempting to accomplish something while he's gone. I'm starting by pulling up the carpet in the den and living room, which will hopefully be replaced with porcelain tile by mid-August. If I'm not hating life too much after the carpet pull, the kitchen floor might come up, too. Plus I need to finish the painting I started weeks ago on the back porch. (Oops!) I'm also expecting to be dealing with the insurance company and auto repairs after Bailey's mishap last week, but hopefully I won't have to whip out my nasty side. And lastly, I hope to finish my book and throw some yard work in here and there.

I think it's only fitting with all this manual labor, that I claim this week to be a non make-up and hair-do week. I haven't been wearing make-up much this summer, but it remains to be seen if I can go that long without my flat iron.

Role Model

I have to brag on Alan. Yesterday Bailey was in a minor car accident in which she was at fault (hit another car from behind). Alan and I happened to be home and only a few blocks away, so we both drove over to the scene. Alan was so nice. Hugged Bailey repeatedly, told her it was okay, made sure she was okay, acted very calm, etc. Regardless of past history, he never made comments about how much it was going to cost, how much the insurance rates were surely to go up - you get the idea. I was reminded of how well my mother and stepdad handled similar situations with me. They never made me feel stupid, which you're already feeling as it is. I just think it's so great when parents follow the Golden Rule, which is something I'm trying to get better at as the years fly by. Alan's a good dad.

Puzzles

There's a science to doing crosswords puzzles. Do you know this? I'm surprised when people with way more smarts and advanced vocabularies than me do not know how to do a crossword. I should be clear - I'm not one of those who can finish every crossword. The Saturday and Sunday ones are often left lying around with half of the answers (or less) filled in, until I'm tired of being reminded how dumb I feel and eventually get thrown away. So here are things about crosswords that some people don't know, which I've discovered by working them with others:

Monday's puzzle is way easy, to the point of annoyance. Tuesday is still fairly easy, Wednesday starts to get more challenging, and by Thursday or Friday I'm feeling retarded. Good luck with the weekend puzzles.

Verb tense in the clue and the answer must match.

Answers will never contain a word or part of a word from the clue. EVER. This seems obvious, but you'd be surprised what people will try.

If the clue uses the last name only of say, an actor, and wants you to supply the character's name - it wants the character's last name as well. It's the matching thing again.

If the clue uses an abbreviation, the answer will be abbreviated too. More matching!

If the clue ends with a question mark, the answer will be "silly answers" (I call them), not literal.

Put it down and pick it back up the next day. I'm convinced the brain continues to mull over the clues. You'll be surprised at the answers you'll get 24 hours later. I'm also convinced that crosswords are good for the mind. I need to work them more often.

And lastly...you need to know the last name of John Lennon's lover, the name of the river that runs through Paris, a four-letter word for a beigy color, the name for a church altar, the name of an ancient Roman marketplace, and a word for a fluffy accessory. Ono, Seine, ecru, apse, agora, and boa. They're used relentlessly. Must be all the vowels.

Start with Monday. You'll be patting yourself on the back for a job well done getting three-letter answers for the clue "two words heard at a wedding."

Sauce

Discovered a great sauce for salmon:

• 1 cup apricot preserves
• a few shakes hot sauce (we use Louisiana, but Cholula's or Tabasco would work)
• 2-3 shakes soy sauce
• salt and pepper

Simmer 10-15 minutes; the preserves will almost completely thin out. It's spicy and sweet!

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.