Pool Drains and the Great Race of Life

Warning: This one is a little random- see it through:-)

Wade sleeps soundly next to me, well pseudo-next to me, Boudreaux sprawled herself out across the bed leaving me with about a foot of viable sleeping space, and my mind is racing about things that need to be done to prepare for our trip.
While laying here, it occurred to me that it is the six month anniversary of my blog. In the beginning, I set out to be a little more positive, a little more consistent, and a little more faithful to the loving God we serve. How have I done? I may not be spot on where I'd like to be, but I'm definitely learning more about myself on this little journey of the at times four-letter-word known as life.

Of late, I have had to take a few weeks hiatus from running due to allergies and recurrent sinus infections. You know the little Mucinex germs on the commercials with the pointy-toed little boots? In my mind, every time I see those commercials, I take out my piece and eliminate them one by one as if they were tin cans on a fence post. It doesn't help. The little men with their tiny boots seem to have taken up permanent residence within my sinus cavities. I've taken two different rounds of antibiotics, nose sprays, daily allergy medication, OTC medications, and inhalers. No dice. This is going into the seventh week of this mayhem. I am resigned to keep on keeping on, just with lots of Kleenex and the cough of one who has chain smoked their entire life. I say that to say, my running has taken an unfortunate back seat. The wheezing makes it sound like two people are breathing when I run. I have to slowly build my lungs back up to par. Seems like a let down to think of how far I pushed myself to go, only to find myself slipping backwards. This parallels with the sermon our pastor spoke about on Sunday. He preached about relationships with God and how, as with any relationship, we get out of it what we put into it. There are 168 hours in a week, yet admittedly I find it difficult to squeeze in daily quiet time. However, is it really difficult to find the time? It's making the time to do it and prioritizing God as the center of life. At times, by all outward appearances, we depict the image of taking the straight path. But what's really in our hearts? What are we really doing with our inner being? Is it being cultivated just as our physical bodies need cultivating through exercise and healthy diet? It's a tricky question if you ask it to yourself. I can say in all honesty that my spiritual life could use a little pruning in the areas of my soul that have tarnished to make way for the renewal of goodness to produce.

As for my attitude adjustment, hence the title De-Funk New Year, it's an everyday work in progress. I have learned to take things in stride and have grown a lot from previous qualms. When I was a little girl, I wore nothing but dresses. In my true hard-headed fashion, I remember sliding down a snow slope in Colorado on a family vacation... in a dress. I had to have frozen my buns off, but I was too stubborn to listen to any parental reason that (duh) sliding down snow in a dress might not be so pleasant. I'm thinking my parents probably looked at each other with the look of- she's going to have to learn the hard way. I grew out of the dress phase, but never truly grew out of the 'I don't like things that are not human or pets to be in my home' phase. Example- while living in Austin, I had an infestation of fleas in my apartment. I had no pets or any reason for said invasion, and found myself behaving irrationally. My friend went with me at 11 o'clock in the evening to buy foggers which I proceeded to set off in my apartment shortly thereafter. Prior to the fog fiasco, I packed an overnight bag and barreled down 35 to my parents house two hours away. Slightly drastic and borderline neurotic? Probably so. Nonetheless, you understand my feud with unwanted creatures. I've become accustomed to such creatures. Proof: The other day, I found a tick. I smashed it as hard as I could, then ran it down the disposal. Maybe that was a little overzealous, but it's better than fogging the joint and having to camp out in the backyard overnight. Further proof- I found a mouse floating in Boudreaux's water bowl the other morning and I didn't even scream...that's not to say that you couldn't have passed a hurdle underneath my legs on account of I almost came out of my skin. Baby steps. The moral is this: God unfolds us in stages. He stays right with us, slowly molding us into the persons he would have us to be. Somedays, I feel are a total waste of make-up. Others allow me to see beauty within life. Sometimes beauty is disguised, and it's up to us to make the best with the hand we're dealt.

Now for the pool drain issue. In junior high, we had to swim laps during PE or cross country practice (I can't remember which). Having to change clothes for athletics is nerve-racking enough in itself, much less having to don a swimsuit in junior high. Unless you are the model type, there's a lot of self -consciousness to be had. I never was a strong swimmer. That coupled with my insane fear of pool drains if sure grounds for slight panic. I always did okay until I had to swim over the deep end. The deep end housed the evil pool drain. I have no idea where it came from or when the fear settled in, but I swam my arms off to get back to the wall. It's like the drain is a force field or something, waiting to suck me in at any moment. My sister-in-law, Becca, a keeper at Sea World, dives to check on everything at the various habitats. You know what they have in those areas? GIANT drains...sure to cause the need for me to breathe with a paper bag. Nonetheless, how can something so harmless take over my thoughts and make stressful one of America's greatest summer activities? As I lay in bed thinking about the drains, I thought of how that fear compares to starting a new year at a new school. It's quite similar. The fear of the unknown. Once I start to swim, I usually forget the drain, but never where it's located. I am sure once I start the year, I will forget about the fear and allow things to fall into place as His plan provides.

In this grand tour of the lives we lead, we must remember that we are who we choose to allow ourselves to be. Just like our garden, if we'd watered it more often and kept the weeds out, it would've produced more. Though we may be dealt setbacks and not feel as fulfilled as we desire, don't allow fear to overtake the happiness that lies within.

The Big D and Mae Day

My absence from writing has nothing to do with my desire not to write, but more to do with finding myself going through the big D- difficulty. Several things culminated over the weeks of summer and congealed in my mind around this very time. Today, I found myself overwrought with several emotions: homesickness, unsureness, and sickness (literally with the recurring sinus infection that shows up at my door with its bags packed to stay a while every month). It's one of those days that feels like a virtual hurricane churning inside the heart. As with any hurricane, the waters begin churning slowly, almost unbeknown to the effected. However, as time passes and more territory is crossed, the storm grows larger and stronger until eventually landfall is inevitable. Today marked landfall of this hurricane of the heart. I am slowly seeing things about myself in a different light. When we lived in San Angelo, I thought to myself at times, I wonder if this is where we will live for the rest of our lives? At the time, I was not certain if that were a good or bad thing. How I would have relished in the little nuances just a little more whole-heartedly, knowing now what I didn't know (or rather realize) then. In this life, nothing can replace family and friends. I longed for the comfort of family today. We were blessed with a wonderful weekend spent with friends, and as with every time someone puts the final bag in the car, bids a final farewell, and rides off into the caliche filmed sunset, I long for them to stay. I took for granted seeing my nieces and nephews being a short hop away, and having the opportunity to be involved in their every activity. I took for granted my in-laws being a few minutes across town and enjoying dinners and visiting at their house. I took for granted the beautiful runs at the KOA, and the friends we hold dear there. Reflecting back, can we afford to take the things we hold so precious for granted? I can't. I have a greater respect for the Lord through this revelation of the heart, and a greater respect for geography. Sometimes, I believe two people could be in the same room and be hundreds of miles apart. That said, I also believe that two people could be hundreds of miles apart, but in the same room in your heart.

Another contributing factor, tomorrow is Mae Day. On July 12, 1912, an amazing woman graced this world: Addie Mae Grossman, my grandmother. We celebrate this day each year by doing a few of her favorite things. I will start the day with a steaming cup of coffee. Then, get the Zebco ready with her tackle bag in hand, and head out in search of a big catch. It wouldn't be right not to end the day with a Sonic hamburger and shake. I vividly remember fishing at their place near San Saba, and spending vacations at Big Bend in the travel trailer. Nothing can replace those sweet, fond memories. I wonder if she knew as a girl what amazing things she would be known for in her lifetime? Did she know that she would leave such a legacy that will live on through her children and grandchildren? God could only have known what a difference she would make in my life. Many of my strengths may be attributed to her. She had unwavering strength and faith in God. As I sit writing this, I wish to be able to pick up the phone to hear her voice, the calm reassurance, the gentle touch of her kind hands. She would rub our chigger bites when we were little until we fell asleep. She would rub our hands while we prayed as we grew older. The impact she had on my life is undeniable. I am thankful to her for the amazing woman, grandmother, and follower of God that she was. Along the lines of taking things for granted, can we afford to say 'I'll call that person tomorrow?'. Procrastination simply must not be a word in our vocabulary when it comes to expressions, friendships, family, loved ones, and the important factors in life that really count. Tomorrow, I will celebrate the beautiful life of my grandmother, and hopefully reel in a big one in her honor.

In the end, this hurricane of the heart made landfall, and the residual effects are still being felt. There are occasional showers, some worse than others. But tonight, during the worst of the storm, I sat with Wade, explaining the best I could the cause of this conundrum. We had just watched an old Marilyn Monroe movie, 'How to Marry a Millionaire'. In this movie, she is blind as a bat, but refuses to wear her glasses on account of she thinks the men won't like her with them, and refers to her glasses as cheaters. In the middle of my mess, Wade said to me, "You sure look cute with your cheaters on," and sang a line from 'You Are so Beautiful to me' in an attempt to cheer me up. That's all I needed. Sometimes, I feel like life is like a test of the emergency broadcast system. God will reveal himself after testing, with the answers and a perfectly mapped out list of what to do. He will lead and I will follow. I should stamp that on my hand for times like these. It's a comfort to know I have the gentle support from the man I love to see me through my hurricanes. I know there will be others, in fact, isn't it hurricane season? However, I know I will never have to evacuate. I've got all the love I need, the hand of the Lord to slowly reveal His plan to me, and the angels of the ones I love so dear watching over me from above.

Long Time no Write!

I pulled these from my writings of last summer and simply had to share. I love finding oldies but goodies. Enjoy! New updates to come- summer has officially begun! :-)

The atmosphere and moral values of some people are certainly different here. A lot of the "old west" morals and values that were instilled in us as kids didn't quite make it this far south. You don't appreciate some things until they are gone they say, much like when you are in a comfort zone, it takes going to completely new ground to really find out what you're made of. Being away from what we consider the norm helps me realize and embrace the true meaning of my roots manifested in myself. For me, the phrase from a song- "Cheap bourbon whiskey and pearl snap shirts, two things that stay the same, so when your world starts spinning and your head hurts, you got cheap bourbon whiskey and pearl snap shirts", says a lot. Follow along here. When I was little, I used to ride along on the tractor with my Papa on the farm right outside of Winters, Texas. I remember Michelle and my cousin Micheal would be playing on all the hay bales and I would just be standing down there with my hands on my hips, because I was not yet tall enough to play up there with the big kids. My Papa always wore pearl snap shirts with Red Man stuck in his front pocket. We would ride in the big tractor, and I loved it because it had an air conditioner and was always cool (isn't that a pun seeing as how we are in the middle of the worst heat wave on record). He taught me to drive in an old Mazda 5-speed on the back country roads. There's a comfort in knowing where you came from and can see where you're going. The point is, be true to your roots. Basically, I believe that the values and morals we were raised with need to be spread out across the country like seed from a pine cone in hopes of improving the state of our country of late!

Last Summer's Top 5 List

Unfortunately, summer is readily approaching its end. No more Golden Girl and Gilmore Girl marathons. No more staying up til midnight watching infomercials. No more lazy mornings and lunches with Wade in the afternoon. No more filling feeders and doing ranch work. Now its off to school. I feel like Wade said it best yesterday, "I hate summer. There's no college football, no hunting season, and it's too hot to breathe". That pretty much sums up our summer down here. It occurred to me that before this gorgeous weather comes to a close, I needed to share with you this summer's Top 5. A very Letterman-esque list this is. It's juts a few gems that we've come across. Granted there are quite a few incidents that didn't make the cut, we had to pick only the best for your reading pleasure. Here you go.


1. We were driving down the road and noticed a road sign. It was one of those flashing kind that tell you about road work. It said, 8/17/09 ROAD WORK BEGENS. I am fairly certain that begin is one of those words you learn pretty early on in the grade school. Pretty fascinating. So fascinating that Wade took a picture of it on his phone so as to document the moment. It's been flashing for days now...


2. I was going to the store the other day and noticed a sign posted on the front door. I had to do a double take because I was sure my eyes deceived me...they didn't. It said "$500 Reward for Lost Accordion". There was a color picture of it on the sign. It was tricked out with mother of pearl and everything! I had to wonder, who goes about loosing an accordion?! I wrote the number down just in case I hear it playing when I drive to the post office every morning...or in case I happen across it.


3. I needed to get a graduation card for my cousin. I went on over to the Wal-Mart in Falfurrias to pick one up. There were no graduation cards in English. I bought one in Spanish, translated it, and wrote the meaning on the card in English... livin' the dream down south.


4. This one hails from the local Wal-Mart as well. Nothing like standing in the aisle and having Border Patrol Agents rush down and arrest the guy standing right down the aisle from you. He was saying in Spanish, "I didn't do anything!" as they carted him out in cuffs...


5. Here in Premont there's really no need to make several stops for certain items, because Sylvia's got you covered. There's a long building separated into 3 sections, but she runs them all. The sign taped next to the door says, "ring the bell and wait, it might take me a few minutes". She has a hardware/fake flowers/jewelry store in one section. Next to that is liquor store, and last but not least she's the Justice of the Peace just in case you find yourself in a pinch. Let us not forget that Sylvia is also a travel agent. She books gambling trips down to Louisiana should you be interested in a fine holiday getaway! Gotta love one stop shopping!

The Optimist v. The Pessimist

I found myself slipping into 'woe is me' mode this weekend. We had the wonderful gift of sharing dinner with dear friends on Saturday night. Cam & Trish's neighbors, from San Angelo, came down to see their granddaughter in a recital on Saturday in Kingsville. They are as close to family as it comes, and came to eat dinner with us and visit. It was such a refreshing time, as it always is. It's hard to explain the joy it brings to see any of 'our people' making the turn down our caliche driveway. The flip side being that it feels like a yo-yo extending in your heart when they pull back out of the driveway, abruptly springing back up and reverberating there, leaving a feeling of abandon in its wake. Such is the case when anyone leaves our humble abode. I literally fight off the urge of what I know I felt as a child when my grandparents left. I wanted to test the confidence in my Saucony's and grab hold of the bumper. That was only in my mind, of course. Sunday, at church, as often times happens, the sermon seemed to be addressing me. He talked about hope through the book of Jeremiah and reminded us that He has a plan. Even though it's currently written in invisible ink that noone but He can see, it's the power of believing that gets us there. To reinforce, our pastor provided this example of an analogy comparing the pessimist and the optimist: Two children anxiously awaited Christmas morning, their minds in endless imagination of what the shiny, perfectly wrapped packages underneath the tree contained. One child, an eternal optimist, the other a persistent pessimist. The pessimistic child opened his gifts first. He unveiled a brand new top-of-the-line CD player. He replied, 'I don't have any CD's to play in it.' With every gift that followed, his rebuttal showed equal pessimism. The optimistic child tore into his gift with delight only to find a steaming pile of horse manure wrapped up in a box. He excitedly leaped up in joy leaving his parents in a state of confusion. When asked how he could possibly be so excited over a pile of poop, he simply stated- 'With all this manure, there's bound to be a pony somewhere!'. This certainly helped me find balance and remember to look for the silver lining, rather than the cloud covering it up...of course, the Sunday pot-luck lunch never fails to boost the spirits as well...

That said, today did not produce the best of days either. Meeting to set up the new school I am moving to left me feeling unsettled and less confident about the upcoming year. Also, I have an improper habit of pushing my gas tank to the limit at times. Despite Wade on my other shoulder saying I should stop for gas before I leave town, I lay the hammer down and head for home. Maybe it's a ludicrous personal game to see just how far I can go on fumes- not sure. I managed to make it back to Premont and coast into the Valero parking lot, only to find that of all days, they are out of gas. Yes, I know, the paradox of that statement spreads miles, but luckily there's another gas establishment in Premont, USA. Because of the shortage, the line for gas spanned about eight cars back. The gauge on my car read zero miles until empty about ten miles before. I waited it out until I sat next in line, then went inside to pay as pay-at-the-pump isn't an option. As I was paying, a little car zipped in front of me. I have never had high blood pressure in my life, but if I had a machine to check it, I reckon it measured at a concerning level. She waved her cash in the air, handed it to the cashier, and went on outside just a pumpin' in the wind. I do not like conflict. In fact, I am a fan of resolving all situations amicably and with a smile. The least amount of feathers ruffled the better, but this just got my goat. I strolled out there and said kindly, 'Excuse me, but do you see this line?' (No reply- just blank staring). I continued, 'We have all been waiting here twenty minutes for gas, and this is the line.' I added a Vanna White wave toward the line for effect. Still nothing. Just a blank stare in my direction as if I were some invisible orb. At that point, what could I do short of putting my Ranch Hand to good use and pushing her little car to the curb? I sat in my car, waiting, until I finally got gas and headed home. I will admit to throwing a small adult fit upon entering my safe place. As Wade stood in the doorway, I jumped up and down doing a grand rendition of what break-dancing might look like in the air. Then I put my purse down and proceeded to cook vittles for our dining pleasure this evening.

I needed to remember the eternal optimist and the fact that the lady that whizzed in front of me at the pump was just the proverbial steaming pile of dung- my pony must be waiting somewhere! I vow to heartily keep the faith in finding it.

Dirty Javelina

I had my woman's bible study group on Monday night. I always look forward to these, as I never fail to leave feeling refreshed and spiritually rejuvenated. It's like going to a spa, only for the soul. The focus on Monday night centered around prayer, and how prayer changes passions. One thought you need to know in order to connect its applicability to this situation is this: sometimes we pray, but we hold some things we don't want to let go of behind our backs- as if God doesn't know what we are up to. As I made my way home, I pondered on that thought, and realized that doing that is not such an uncommon problem for me. At times, I tend to not want to let things out of my control. Even though I know it is not my place to worry, but to lay my worry at His feet, I lay it at His feet but keep a crumb to hold on to for whatever convoluted reason. When I arrived home, I walked into a situation that would test this very topic. Wade sat on the floor holding Boudreaux, dabbing ointment on her shoulder wound. The menacing cause of this site was none other than a dirty, filthy javelina bite to the shoulder. Up to that day, I had no beef with the creatures. They'd never bothered us, just shaded up in the trees in the background, or pilfered the grounds for a morsel of delight. You may rest assured that should one be brave enough to set foot in our yard again, remorse might describe their plight.I felt completely overwhelmed and angry. Of late, Boudini the Great has lost her hearing, learned she has a large foreign tumor growing in her spleen, and now attacked on the shoulder by a rancid oversized member of the rat family. It struck me that there's no reason to fret and worry about the things that are beyond us. I strife to really let my worries go, and allow prayer to change the passions of my heart. Our hearts won't change overnight. But with consistent prayer, God continues to dab away the dirt and grime that attach themselves to our hearts, until we are left only with one that is ready to serve Him.

Tuesday I had a workshop in Corpus. I love workshop days on account of the extended lunch period. No cramming food down in 28 minutes flat, a leisurely lunch is much more suited to my taste. The service center is right behind Ocean Drive, and a nifty little art museum with a lunch cafe sits cozily across the street. For lunch, a group of us walked over to enjoy the fare. As I sat there, taking in the splendor of the nearby marina, slowly relishing in my White Chocolate Raspberry Cheesecake, a phone call snapped me back to present time. Turns out, the sub couldn't finish the day because he became quite frustrated with the kids. Again, I couldn't help but connect this to our spiritual lives. I wonder how many times God has gotten so frustrated with our decision making and ill aligned priorities, but He never gives up on us. We are always welcomed with open arms no matter the infraction.

I am thankful for the ever present strength of faith and the all enduring forgiveness of our Father- even when we push it to the limit.

Drumsticks, Comas, and Boots

I know it's a rather strange title, but the explanation will lend itself shortly. Last Sunday, Wade and I traveled back to the clinic for a second time, only to find out that the antibiotic they first gave me was incorrect. A new antibiotic, a nose spray, and a daily allergy pill later, we jetted out of the clinic in hopes that our immune systems were high enough to wield off whatever it was the clinic full of ill subject's bodies were tainted with. After picking up the prescriptions, we went to grab some lunch. The last time we ate at the Sirloin Stockade was right after we moved here, and we didn't go back. However, we passed by, the place was packed, and the nine foot stucco cow in front had detached itself from the flatbed trailer in front and literally laid 'tits up' in the parking lot. The laughter induced by this sight was enough of a nudge for us to give it a second try. We got our trays and made our way through the buffet line. Wade, being the steak and potato man that he is, waited in line at the grill for his slab-o-beef. An African American lady swaggered right on up there to the counter and said, "How you ain't gonna have no drumsticks?" Sidebar- her asking where the drumsticks are is a lot like me saying the phrase, "Oh my stars" when something surprises me and having the person stare up at the sky as if I am referring to the stars themselves... It just doesn't equate. The person behind the counter stared at her in a state of confusion, and she frustratedly added this, "You know, chicken legs! The ones with the handle for the kids!" I am glad I had a clear route to our table because I could not suppress the laughter. Wade managed to keep it together to receive his meat snack. I guess nothing comes between a man and his meat...

This past weekend we trekked up to San Antonio. I have experienced my share of food comas from overindulging in some of life's finer cuisine, however, I have never experienced a fashion coma quite like I did on Saturday at La Cantera. Whoever designed the layout of this 'plaza' knew what they were doing. The huge Bass Pro sits gallantly in front for the men to peruse, but behind Bass Pro is a little strip of gold. Usually, I go in with him and cruise around the women's clothing section until I can't take it anymore. Then I end up over in the guns where Wade is. While he is talking shop with whomever is at the counter, I act as though I am a knowledgeable citizen of arms. What I am really doing is imagining what it might have been like to go blazing saddles across the wild open west with my chaps and pearl snap, hunting down bank robbers with my double barrel coach gun. In my fascinating western, Boudreaux of course somehow rides with me. Nonetheless, Saturday, I decided to hang up my spurs and go over to the Nordstrom and Saks outlets. I could be in the most heinous of moods, and setting foot in those stores would instantly realign my chi. I spent about an hour in the Nordstrom store ogling over it all, then went down to Saks for the grand finale. As I entered the threshold, the smell of buttery soft leather rushed through my nose- thank goodness I can finally smell again or I would have missed that little added bonus. I immediately found my breathing picked up and I had to start in sections, one at a time, so as to not become overwhelmed. I fell in love when I got to the shoes. I collect these tiny shoes called, Just the Right Shoe. It is a collection of all different kinds of shoes. A designer, Beverly Feldman, took a few of these tiny shoes and made them in to human shoes. You can imagine my splendor when I saw that one particular shoe that I love lay in front of me in a true 7 1/2 just waiting to don my foot. I put them on and walked all around the store. I did not mind the side ways glances or sly stares. For all intensive purposes, that stroll around the store in those fabulous shoes was a much needed therapy session. Next to the shoes sat the bags. Shoes and handbags will always be dear to my heart. Probably parallel to the way that guns and knives will always be near to Wade's. I found myself drunk with the smell in the air and giddy with delight just to look...then I went to try on snake boots. That's right, reality snaps in pretty quick sometimes, wouldn't you say?

We wheeled on over to a boot shop to find me a pair of work boots. The ones I have are hand-me-downs from my nephew, and I have had them for years. I love these boots though, for they are worn in with character and sass. I went to put them on the other day and low and behold, an organism of some kind had taken them over. Hopefully, Wade can remove said problem so I can at least wear them. But they are rather worn and bear no support anymore. We go in and the sales lady says, "Oh I don't think we have anything for you", right off the bat. A little background: on the way to San Antonio, Wade and I talked about how selling cars (anything really), is tricky because if you rub the person the wrong way, they are going to go somewhere else. That's exactly what I wanted to do. Instead, we went through the boot section and actually came across the pair we were looking for. I tried them on, they seemed to fit, so Wade asked how much they cost. She said, "Oh, they are verrry expensive?" What am I caught in a weird version of Pretty Woman when she walks in as a common person and they turn their noses up at her? I yanked those boots off, tipped an imaginary hat, and rolled out. We squealed into another store to try our luck there. Much the same, except this time his first response was, "We can look, but I don't really think I have anything"...Long story short, I wanted to hop up onto the glass case housing all their little gems of glory and yell, "Where's Walter?!" Walter at Mr. Boots in San Angelo, of course. He always helps us with anything we need. If it's not there, he'll get it there, and he'll do it with a smile. What happened to that can do attitude? Maybe that's just one more thing that's being pushed aside and forgotten right along with the values and morals we hold so precious and dear.

When you put it all together, it's a varied vast world we experience. Cultures run the gammot of differences, risen spirits can hide within the confines of a Feldman shoe, and it pays to add a little kindness to someone's day- your job could depend on it.

Not a creature was stirring except for the mouse

Last night I had to sleep on the couch. Allow me to explain. I slept on the couch because I could not use my earplugs and Wade sometimes snores. I couldn't use my plugs because I have a lot of fluid in my ears. Fluid resides in my ears because I am sick yet again which makes the fifth time in about five months that I have been sick with this awful writhing cough and congestion. I took Nyquil before bed to attempt to sleep. Nyquil for me is a double edged sword. It puts me right to sleep for the first few hours, then I am wide awake in the middle of the night. Last night, a slight bit of help awoke me from my slumber. I woke to what I thought to be someone raffling with the back door. I thought to myself, this is it. I went to get Wade wondering to myself which firearm from the bedside arsenal he would choose. He got his flashlight and weaved into the dining room in a sleep filled haze. I expected to see a clan of misfits at the back door...what I saw was a mouse scrambling across the floor with its leg stuck in a trap. He took one look at it and said, 'there's your culprit', and went directly back to bed. He thought it rested in peace in its trap. Great. No bad guys came knockin, but this mouse put up a valiant fight. For the next two hours it scurried across the floor. I lay torn between wanting to flick it outside, wake up Wade to alert him to the fact that the creature previously played possum and was very much coherent,or drifting into restful sleep. I dozed in and out, intermittently awoken by the scurrying. I aspire to have a real dose of Grandpa's Cough Syrup tonight and enjoy a fair amount of uninterrupted sleep.

Here's to a solid eight hour date with your bed tonight. May you sleep tight in a pest free environment.

Cryin' and Laughin'

May the record be stricken that there are times that I am a bit of a crier. The circumstances vary that inevitably cause the flood gate of tears to fall free. On the contrary, I have also been known to cackle out a belly laugh when hilarity takes over. It's the balance of life I suppose, the good and the bad. As the saying goes it's all over but the cryin', so we will start there...

A couple of weeks ago, we headed on down south to McAllen to visit the Hulings'. On our journey, we followed behind a big heavy- hauler scooting down the highway with half a house. It was half of a fairly nice Palm Harbor Home. Wade and I talked away when a sudden interruption of "Whoosh" resonated through our car. I didn't know what transpired until I looked right in front of me. That trucker had a blow-out of mammoth proportions. Tires just came off one after the other out from underneath the trailer until coming to a jerky stop on the side of the road. Right as he began to come to a stop, the whole house slid off and dragged the ground. Yes, I began to cry. I have no idea why other than the fact that I wondered: How is he going to manage getting where he needs to go? How will he tell his boss? Will his family be waiting on him for dinner tonight? Is he going to have to pay for this out of his own pocket? After Wade laughingly talked me down from my stupor, I realized how parallel this is to our lives. We can be blowing down the highway at full throttle without a care in the world and have a proverbial blow-out. The answer is always right in front of us, the comfort of His scripture and the peace of prayer. It sometimes takes a moment to realize that with all the questions posed in the process of thought.

As you well know, TAKS testing finally wrapped up a few weeks ago. It's two days of stress and wonder about whether or not those kids are going to take the test seriously or if they will play music chairs or connect-the-dots with their scantron. On the second day of testing, I couldn't take it anymore. I literally felt something boiling up inside of me. I had to reach inside my little folder and pull out the red 'teacher needs a break' sign. I handed it to the lady outside, and once relieved, booked it to the bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror, and the tears just started a'bubbling. It was one of those, get a hold of yourself moments, that you can't seem to quite muster the inner strength to find your center. About a minute passed before I got my ridiculous outburst under control. It's not as though I could do anything about the situation, except sit there and continue to pray specifically that each one of them would do their absolute best. It was out of my hands. I wonder how many times God feels that way about us. He can only do so much for us, then it's us that must realize that He is in control and will lead if we allow. After about a five minute hiatus, I scurried back to class only to sit and wonder what the heck was wrong with me that I had to go have a bawl session in the bathroom over a test taken by a room full of ten year olds...Definitely needed big girl pants.

Needless to say, when that week of TAKS finally ended after what seemed like a syrupy molasses moving few days, I needed a break. I headed to Michelle's in Dallas. We had a relaxing weekend of delectable pedicures and did a little shopping, grilled on the patio, and watched the Derby. Usually, I never get sick on the plane. I just sit at a window seat in the front, stare out as it moves along, and drift off to sleep shortly after take-off. Not so much on this day. The flight from Dallas to Corpus makes a quick stop in Houston for about thirty minutes. The plane wasn't full, so I took my pick of seats a few rows from the front, got out my I-pod and book, prepared for an enjoyable few hours of reading. I should have seen it as an omen when I saw the flag standing straight out at attention on account of the gale force winds. I honestly think we took of on two wheels. Suddenly that sense of weightlessness and tumultuous quivering in my stomach set in. I knew this would not be good. I began to feel quite ill. The rest of the flight continued as such and did not stop until we rolled into the gate in Houston. By this time I must have been green. Misty eyed, I asked the flight attendant for some water to take a Dramamine. After the few minutes of ground time, I started to feel myself again. The other passengers began to load and a what I assume to be Indian couple sat in the two seats behind me. I thought nothing of it. My spirits sank when the turbulence ensued yet again and my sickness doubled. I turned the air on full blast. Sometimes, cool air can combat such illnesses, right? Well my fingernails were purple from my trying this remedy. At my weakest thread, that man put down the two tray tables behind me and started playing them like bongos all the while singing a tune I can only liken to the tune of a snake charmer. Though this shouldn't be the case, I wanted to turn around and say, Hey, can I get you some incense to burn along with this insanity? I no more than threw my bag in the car and closed the door before the dam blew. I was a blubbering idiot. God love Wade for putting up with me. I called him in my state, and he's a bit of a fixer. Of course there's nothing he could do, I just had to get it out and get home. When I got home, he had lunch ready...that fixed the situation just fine.

Last on the list of sob stories came Friday. On my way home from work, Michelle told me she had watched "Steel Magnolias". As if on cue, it was on TV Friday night. I got myself a glass of wine and settled in to watch it. I am not proud to say this, but the wine disappeared, and not just the glass of it, and I just boo-hooed by the end of it. I couldn't help but think about how precious life is in my haze of tears. The past few weeks have seemed like such a blur with everything going on. I am guilty of loosing focus at times. For example, today on my way home, I heard the train coming. This didn't set well because I had left the school at 3:44:59 in an attempt to get home early. Luckily, I saw the light up ahead was green. I squealed through it just in time to see the little barrier dinging down and the locomotive thumping down the tracks. My idiotic rationale was that at least I was the first in line. I watched and waited as one by one the cars shimmied past. Wait. I must be hallucinating, is it slowing down? Yep. Came to a complete stop right in front of me as if to spitefully remind me an important lesson. It's not always about how fast we can get through or get ahead, the joy is often in the slow motion views of life that only lend themselves to us when we slow down long enough to see them.

Now for the laughter portion of today's feature. Allow me to begin with one simple thought- eat dessert first. This has become ever apparent to me as I have an ongoing love affair with sweets. Once at a church potluck, I stood in the buffet line holding my Styrofoam plate of my favorite sweet picks. If there's anything I've learned from twenty some odd years of Baptist buffet lines- be cordial, but fend for yourself. I honestly think someone will start talking to you asking how you've been and how's your kin, while sneaking the last piece of chocolate pie right out from under you. I'm on to this trick, you see. I stood there with my goodies, eating a piece of brownie. A lady said, honey you're not supposed to eat dessert first. I quickly pondered that statement all the while the creamy chocolate and sugar concoction coating my taste buds in a moment of sheer bliss. My response was this- I already sinned by lusting over it in the first place, so why not just eat it first? I put this theory into action. Today, I had my cookie before my Lean Pocket at lunch. If you're not quite convinced, think about your favorite dessert on the planet. Take mine for example, White Chocolate Raspberry Cheesecake at Olive Garden. Every time we go there, I muddle through my Chicken Fettuccine, then find myself full by the time I have the opportunity to relish in the delight of dessert. Well, forget it, from now on, I am eating it first. I can take the rest of the regular food in a to-go bag. Rationality at it's finest. Life's too short to have to hold out for the good stuff on account of a simple formality.

Speaking of formalities, a couple of weeks ago at church we had the privilege of going to lunch with an older couple there in the church. They have lived in this area for over fifty years, and talked about the way things were back when this place was hopping. I thought how sad it must be just to watch things die out around you, left only with the memories of what used to be. As we finished eating, Wade told them that if they ever needed anything, or needed anything moved, to give him a call. In his best grin, the old man said, "If I need something moved, I'm going to set it on fire and call the fire department. They'll move it." When you think about it, what a way to think about life. How would it be to live with such vigor that we are willing to comparatively set things on fire in our own lives that we need moved, and let the Lord move them.

Bringing up the rear is a little episode from this weekend. Wade and I went fishing down at Corpus hoping to reel in a Red or at least something to fight our line. We didn't get a fish, but we did see something worth our while. As I reeled in my line to recast, I turned as I heard a truck struggling with getting bogged down in the sand. I thought for a minute maybe it wasn't four wheel drive, then I realized they were hauling something...a hot tub on a trailer. That's right, there in all its glory Rodney Redneck hauled a flat bed trailer tricked out with a hot tub right on down the beach. I totally rubber-necked to catch the full grandeur of this comedy. He had welded a tin canopy above the hot tub. At the end of the trailer he had enough space to haul two jet skies, complete with a generator at the front. I can't imagine the fury of mess that lingered at the bottom of that hot tub, however, it was nothing compared to the fury of laughter that erupted from Wade and I as we watched him throw sand up into the sunset. Life truly is amazing with the hilarious tidbits thrown our way. They say laughter adds years to your life. Looks like we got a good stock in reserve.

The moral is that you win some you loose some. Sometimes we walk in the dredges only to find our favorite dessert on the other side. May we strive for laughter to outweigh the tears, and comedy to overlie our fears.

Cross the Border

A week managed to slide by since my last meeting of cyber minds. Such a short amount of time, yet so much transpired. I'll turn back time to last week, and move forward from there. It's a beautiful day, so just get a frosty one, and kick back in your favorite seating device.

Last week, in the middle of class, one of my strong students just broke down crying at his desk. This is wildly out of character for this little fella, so I asked him to come outside for a moment. I asked him what was wrong and what I could do to help him. He said that the pastor had prayed with him at church the Sunday before, and ever since he had felt a strange feeling inside. My mind began to race. Should I pray with him? How do I handle this? Is he Christian or another religion I am not aware of? What should I say? What am I legally allowed to say? Will I loose my job if I ask if he feels the Lord calling him to be one of His own? I took about thirty seconds to process. I had a similar occurrence when I taught in San Angelo. The beauty there was that in a private Christian school, you can share the Word, pray, and share in the beautiful experience of a child giving their life to the Lord. It was truly a day I will never forget. In the middle of bible class one day, she asked to speak with me outside. She said she had felt this pull for a long time and wanted to pray and make things right in her heart. I could not, however, very well have a similar instance in a public school where prayer is not even legal. I talked to this student and reassured him that he could always talk to his parents and to respond to that feeling in his heart. I have never had such a strong 'my hands are tied' moment. I continue to pray that the Lord is speaking to his heart and that he will respond to the call. It really makes you think about the very morals on which this country was founded. I find it unbelievable that the simple act of prayer may not be expressed within the walls of the buildings that take a part in shaping America's students into the basic human beings they will become. For some of these kids, we are the only positive influence they have during their day...food for thought.

Yesterday, I really felt like I was on the other side of the border willing my Expedition to careen itself back onto Texas soil. Allow me to explain. Everyday I see this guy peddling for Dixie on his Huffy from Kingsville to the cut-off to Premont. That's about a thirty mile round trip hike...on a Huffy. I decided, that's it, I must find out if he is training for some kind of race- because if he is, I am donating out of shear admiration of his dedication. I busted a U on the highway and pulled off to the shoulder to wait for him to approach. There was no standing water or anything, nonetheless, this soft ground got the better of me. Background information is needed here. A few months ago, we thought my Expedition would be retired to the rust ridden junkyard of the south due to persistent strange noises emitting from the front end. Come to find out, it was the spider gears. The very gears that permit the four wheel drive. Now I will continue...Like a ding bat, I felt the car start to slip. I had no choice but to go for gold. I floored it. Well, first I made sure no cars were coming, then I floored it. I cut the wheel left and right, and burned out. I managed to come to a thrashing halt as one side of the tires flung themselves back onto the asphalt portion of the shoulder of the road. The biker guy slowed down as all this took place- in his mind probably deducing some sort of psychosis state was behind the wheel. After I managed to "park", I got out and asked if he was training for some kind of race. Turns out, he just does it for personal fitness. If I had that bike, I'd have to rig up some kind of plywood seat cushioned with memory foam strapped onto that tiny banana shaped excuse for a butt-holder. Hats off to all you riders, because those seats scream irritation...

On a racing note, my sister got drawn to run the New York marathon in November. We are super proud of her accomplishment, and can't wait to see her sail through the streets of New York! Go Shelly go!

In hindsight, as we navigate the many situations of daily life, may we be aware of who God may put in our paths to lead to Him, and how we might be used for His greater good. However, we must first be available and willing to answer the call. And might we all stay on the paved roadways to avoid being bogged down by just another one of life's tiny fascinations- South Texas sand.

OMG- Stuck Times Three!

Rain keeps falling on my head...Today marks the third day in a row of torrential downpours. I love the rain, however, on my drive home today I couldn't help but wonder if another tow trip lied in the cards for the Wade and me. The thought left my mind and I became engrossed in the radio. We went over to Fal and ate at our favorite restaurant there. We are such an old codger couple. We always time it just right so that the Wheel is on during our meal, and if anyone is sitting at our normal table, the earth slips on its axis. When we got home, Wade, being the gentleman that he is, tried to pull right up next to the sidewalk to let me out so I wouldn't get my boots wet. I've worn my boots so thin that the sole is starting to separate causing water to leak in, so I appreciated this gallant effort. No sooner could I turn around to check if my eyes were deceiving me, I heard spinning tires. It was like a slow motion moment- I put down my bags and started waving my hands frantically in a 'STOP' motion, all the while being poured on from the clouds above. This is in the front yard a few feet from our front door, mind you. Not to mention that this did not occur in the ranch truck or Wade's truck. This is my truck! That's like wearing your Sunday clothes and going to roll in the mud! It's our 'good' car. Wade fired up old whitey and backed right up to the truck. In idle with the e-brake on he squeegeed it right out of the rut, which is saying something, because that truck was buried to the frame...in our front yard. Rad.

On a more serious note, I had the second meeting of my bible study on Monday night. I felt like I inhaled a fresh breath of air for my heart and soul. I am slowly, sometimes tearfully, finding my way to a better person. The title of it, "Breaking Free", is truly a great study. I am reacquainting myself with scriptures that became a little dusty for me over the years, and I am reacquainting myself with the feeling of warmth and reassurance in my soul that only comes when the feeling of God's presence permeates your core. I am excited about this journey and about discovering so much more about myself and the Word. In order to break free, you have to be willing to give up a few things that may have, without you knowing, held you back.

Hopefully this event will be the only getting stuck episode that we can add to our repertoire, and maybe we can all grow closer to the person God wants us to be a little more each day.

Grace Around Us

Yesterday we celebrated Easter with my parents at our little Baptist Church here in Premont. As we took the Lord's Supper, I thought about when I accepted Christ. I was young, and we lived in Iraan, TX. As I looked around the congregation of predominantly older folks, I began to wonder how they felt when their own children accepted Christ. Then my thoughts moved toward my niece and nephew. When we got home from church, my niece called to say that she had 'felt the tug' in church that morning and made her profession of faith. What a wonderful experience. I imagined the pride and joyful spirits my sister and brother-in-law must have felt at the moment. Watching the person you created experience such a kindred moment with our Lord. Knowing that her name is now written in the Lamb's Book of Life and no matter what trials and snares her future may hold, she is forever steadfast in His arms. As we talk about starting a family and see many of our friends continuing theirs, I feel that this particular moment in parenthood must rank amongst the top moments. I am so excited for her as she moves forward in her faith and begins her journey of Christianity. May we all strive to set strong examples in our daily life. We never know who might be watching and what might spark someone's decision to follow Him. We called to congratulate her and give her our best. Perhaps the biggest congratulation of all came in the party in the skies we are not yet privy to attend until our name is called up yonder.

In the essence of this, I was reminded of the utter importance of family. I so enjoyed the time spent with my parents this weekend. The simple joys of visiting, cooking, talking, relaxing, and just enjoying being with each other. I always cry when family leaves. There's really no exception. It just feels like a piece of my heart is traveling hundreds of miles away. Yesterday marked the 19th anniversary of Wade's mom passing. Though I still have the physical presence of my parents here on earth to love and support me through any time, I know that his mom is here with us in spirit. I found myself wondering how I could love someone I never knew, only knew of? I know that so many wonderful qualities that Wade possesses are a reflection of her. Wade loves with no boundaries, cares unceasingly, and finds the good in trying situations. He is truly an amazing person that's grown into the man that I know put a smile on his mom's face yesterday.

My heart overflows with gratefulness for my family. I am so thankful for family- here and those watching over from above.

Good Friday

Apparently, I have no immunity to the myriad illnesses circulating in this South Texas air. Not more than two months ago, I found myself in this same predicament. I felt it coming on Thursday and thought to myself, this can't be happening?! I just got over this crud not too long ago. My parents are coming down for Easter weekend, and Wade's family is coming down next week for his birthday, so a sickness just won't do. I did not have to work yesterday as we were released from duty in honor of Good Friday. I woke up yesterday at 5:30 with a sick affinity to be the first one at the walk-in clinic door. This could have something to do with the fact that the average wait time of my previous experiences was at least three hours. I just didn't find that prudent yesterday. I threw on my glad rags and hauled myself over to the clinic. I wheeled into the parking lot at ten of seven. Like clockwork, cars started slowly creeping in to the parking lot to stake their claim. I lost all regard for what my next move might look like. I got out of my car and stood right in front of the door, determined to be first to sign in and make a clean getaway! I couldn't help but hear 'Eye of the Tiger' in my mind. I felt like Rocky preparing for a big fight. My plan worked. I was out of there by 7:30. I am now taking another bout of antibiotics and cough syrup in hopes that I caught it early enough for it to make a quick exit of my system...one can hope.

When I arrived home mid morning, Wade and I went over to Corpus to get our eye exams. I have to have mine every year to get contacts,however, Wade hasn't had one in years. It never fails that the person slightly off kilter with their attitude will be the one to help Wade. Expect no less in this case. He wanted to try and wear contacts in order to correct his blurry vision. Learning to wear contacts is difficult, more so I think at a later age. The lady kept sighing at him and telling him that's not the way you do it...and Ding! Ding! Ding! Here we go...it was like participating in the ski jump, everything went down hill until the grand finale of soaring down the hill at cat like speeds until the finish line, a.k.a. the truck. The contact situation clearly would not work, so we ambled next door to look at the glasses. The line was quite long, but we decided to stick it out. Of course by the time it was our turn, she called the insurance company to verify the amount of coverage, and their office had closed. Isn't this about par. Now the analogy would be somewhat comparable to an avalanche. I kind of wanted to melt into the floor.

In the midst of it all, I am reminded of the importance of this weekend. The sacrifice of our Lord to face trial and tribulation and pay the ultimate price for our sins. What a glorious day tomorrow represents. He is risen and alive to save us from ourselves. I will leave you with the chorus of a song called 'Lead me to the Cross':

Lead me to the cross where Your love poured out,
Bring me to my knees, Lord, I lay me down
Rid me of myself, I belong to You,
Oh, lead me, lead me to the cross.

Wishing you all a wonderful Easter weekend.

The Pinto and the Illegal

I looked forward to the pot of beans slowly seeping flavor into their tiny selves all day long. Food fight in the cafeteria? No worries, I go home to a lovely meal in a few hours. Want to try throwing your egg roll at me? Go for it, I now have water to shower all the filth away. All these food issues made me think of the fact that I just love a good pot of pintos. I've tasted many different kinds, but none can compare to Wade's flavorful blend. Some try to church them up with vinegar or beer and the like. The reality is, you just can't church up a pinto.

On my way home, my taste buds preparing themselves for the explosion awaiting, I phoned Wade to check his 20. He told me he was just driving around. I know him well enough to know that if he's 'driving around', there's a good possibility that an animal/varmint is involved in his drive. Today humans of the illegal kind were involved. Apparently, five amigo fresh-out-of-Mexico hombres traipsed straight down the main ranch road. This is not out of the ordinary in these parts. However, this is slightly disturbing as this is the road I often run. Surely these folks aren't violent, but whose to say. I am a little skittish when it comes to running and being caught off guard. Once I went to run at the KOA in San Angelo early in the morning before sunrise. It's really dark out there. My solution? A couple of years ago one of Wade's hunters brought him a huge duffel bag full of various kinds of glow sticks. Some were the hand held kind, but some were semi-circular disks with sticky adhesive on the back. Here's the visual you are looking for- I stuck three of the self adhesive suckers to my chest and back and brandished a hand held glow stick in each hand. It probably looked like an alien invasion coming around the bend. I came around the last bend, which is quite creepy, when I heard a loud "Crack" come from behind me. You'd have thought I had nun-chucks in my hand the way I whizzed around ready to combat the culprit that lay before me. The culprit was one of the adhesive glow patches that fell off and cracked. Feeling like a dunce, I quickly finished my run and zoomed off into the slowly rising sun. Now do you understand what I mean by skittish? I can't imagine coming across a haul of illegals... Maybe I should get a shoulder holster and run with my piece. It's getting to be rattlesnake season anyhow.

I hope we all remember to enjoy the simple things in life, like the odd bowl of pintos and running with glow sticks. Hope your Thursday is just a big bowl of laughs!

Ode to Free Flowing Water

This evening I really out did myself. In order to fully understand the depth of this outdoing, you must be briefed on the situation at hand. Let me begin by saying that the next time you get your water bill do not scoff. If it's a little higher than last month's bill, just say your favorite explitive under your breath, and send the check on over to the city with a stamp and a smile. For effect, you could even smather red lipstick on and seal it with a kiss. Why you wonder? Because you do not have a well that could dry or malfunction causing no water to run into your home. This is really quite comical actually. I noticed the problem this afternoon when I put a load of laundry in and it sounded like the Lock Ness Monster was going to erupt out of the wash basin at any moment. The gurgling sound emitting from the washer seemed odd. I thought it might be a fluke until I flushed a toilet and heard the same sound, and same sound again when I tried watering the garden. So, we turned the pump off and hope the water will circulate properly and can get it fixed tomorrow. In the meantime, a moment ago (as a creature of habit) I cruised into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. I even went so far as to put the toothpaste on my fang brush and turn the knob. Duh. Nothing there. That's fine, I thought to myself, I have to take matters in to my own hands...this is where the irrational part begins.

To the left of our home sits our cistern well. There's a spigot coming off the side about five feet above the ground, which would, in a pinch, make for a bathroom faucet of sorts. Because the spigot is not operated by the pump, I thought there would be enough of a storage in the cistern to use. So, this is what I did. I put on a bathing suit and a pair of flip flops, grabbed my toothbrush, face wash, shampoo, soap, a cup, and a towel and headed outside. Most of the time when you think of outdoor showers you imagine this exotic waterfall experience surrounded by lush tropical greenery with steam emerging from the heat of the glorious experience. Not the case. I propped my supplies up on top of the fence post and draped my towel to the side. It took me about thirty seconds to complete my pep talk about how great this would feel and phrases like, come on Angela, get in touch with your wilderness side came to mind as means to encourage myself. Two pieces of information you need to know at this point: It's a full moon. So much for my 'hidden under a cloak of darkness' theory. Second, they put in a new road right next to our house. I turned the faucet and felt the chilly water roll out. Big girl pants, big girl pants! That was my mantra at this point. I went full force into go mode like a crazy person running through a bed of coals. I filled the cup and splashed it on my body all while frantically brushing my teeth. My hair was half wet and I furiously lathered soap when, can you imagine, the water began to trickle. A shot of enormous panic overcame me and I began to cautiously beat the faucet. I say cautiously because I had soap all over my face and could not rightly see. So I proceeded to bang in its general direction. Enough of a trickle came out for me to at least clear the soap from my face, which was a bonus. As I stood there in my panic, a truck comes ambling down the road. Are you kidding me? What, did someone call them and say, hey there's a crazy white chick trying to hose off in the yard, go check it out? I never have been one to have great luck... At that point, I just grabbed the towel and toted all my crap back into the house like a dog with its tail stuck between its legs.

I had high hopes that I could at least make good of an unfortunate situation. Now, as I lay in bed penning this, nursing my wounds of defeat, the barn owl sits on the side of the house hooting. If you ask me, it sounds more like a Ha! Ha! than a hoot hoot...

Here's to the joys of free flowing water and embracing your irrational side every now and again. May your showers be hot and your coffee be warm as you rise in the morning.

Somehow, two weeks passed since my last stroke of the keyboard. So much transpired in the half a month that I've been MIA. I find it more logical to make a list in order to best portray this spiel.

1. If ever two words existed that do not belong together, they would certainly be circus and Falfurrias. The circus came to town, quite literally. This circus rolled in at sunup, spent the day, then packed up the tents and trailers and polluted its way down the road to the next cataclysmic adventure. How bizarre. Picture it- in the middle of a dusty field, right on the outskirts of town, the trucks unloaded the big top, set up shop, and unveiled the splendor. The splendor even included elephants and camels. I know what you're thinking, because I had to do a double take so as to assure myself my eyes hadn't failed. I am pretty certain that said animals have no business being hauled across kingdom come in Lord knows what kind of conditions. I kept thinking that around any corner the freak show tent would appear... then again, I reckon the circus in itself lent enough freak to the crowd.

2. Spring Break- The glorious seven day period of restful bliss that encourages one to get back in tune with what it actually feels like to get the recommended amount of sleep for optimal daily performance. We planted what began as a small garden and may well have turned into my summer job. I'm thinking of erecting a stand to sell our haul of goods. No overhead required seeing as how most advertisement in these parts consists of spray paint on cardboard. I do hope our crops produce. We always grew gardens of great proportion when I was growing up. I carry fond memories of those times. Maybe this will be become a yearly tradition of our own, who knows. At this time, I just hope Wade doesn't send all the local birds into an early trip to the eternal corn buffet in the sky for pilfering our seeds.

3. Poop Scoop- I found humor in the following situation. My niece and nephews went to camp out with my parents at Lake Belton over the break. My nephew, Jasper, is three. Michelle took him to the bathroom, which was out of toilet paper in all but one stall. They waited for a while, hearing a couple of flushes in a row. Coincidentally, courtesy flushes are a sure sign of disaster. Finally, a lady scuttled quickly out of the bathroom, wafting with her a scent of unbearable weight. Jasper took a few steps in and stopped. He turned to Michelle and said, "That lady did a bad thing in here. I'm not using this potty." Simply stated, and quite hilarious.

4. Bible Study- I started going to a bible study this week. It's a Beth Moore study called "Breaking Free". I entered into this introductory session with an open mind and open heart. The idea stands to rid the heart of all the convoluted mess that clouds our heart with doubt, insecurity, strongholds, fear, and any other issues that cause a delay in communication with what God wants for your life. I am excited to go through the process. I hope to rediscover some pieces of myself, and let go of some of the pieces that are good riddance.

In essence, the weeks pass and time flies off the calendar faster than I can mark off the days. I guess all we can hope to do is keep away from skid ridden latrines, grow a little fruit for the fruits of our labor, and break free a little each day from the ties that bind us.

Until we meet again...

Faith

On my drive to work this morning, fog once again thickened the air like a thick gray cloud of steam. Fog especially troubles me, mainly because it confuses me. It's like a freak of nature. As I drove, several cars passed me. Just a few feet after passing me, the headlights disappeared into the thick environment and were no more. I knew quite surely that they were there, for they had just physically passed me on the highway. However, I could not see to prove their presence in front of me. In my daily life, I know full well that the Lord is there to hold my hand and guide me through the deftest of circumstances- but I can not see Him. Sometimes, I need that tangible reinforcement. The reassuring hug that slowly dissipates the worries that ail the mind. Today, I found myself carefully put in place and reminded that faith prevails- no matter the situation...

A woman and her husband enter in to marriage about three years ago, prepared to tackle the ups and downs that life may throw their way. Each day merits a gift and a newness and depth creeps into their relationship over time, sealing their bond into unbreakable. The husband serves in the Air Force, and shortly after their vows were spoken, he received the call to Iraq. What a bittersweet time to truly test the solidity of their relationship. Luckily, the time passed quickly, and before they knew it, the homecoming celebration came to fruition, and God brought them safely together again. Since the 'I do's', the wife prayed fiercely for God to work a miracle in her husband's heart and show him His presence, for her husband had not accepted the Lord. A few years passed, and the inevitable baby bug took hold of their hearts. The product? A precious baby boy born this past summer. All the while, they went to church each Sunday, and she continued to pray that the Lord would speak to her husband's heart and he hear the Lord knocking. This week, they went to Walgreen's to pick up a few items. The man in front of them was heavy set and seemed overly concerned with the amount of groceries accumulating in the bags. Her husband told the man that if money was the issue, he would gladly help him out. The man replied that it was not the money that concerned him, simply that he was diabetic and his feet gave him trouble. He did not want to strain himself as he had to walk home. They offered to give him a ride home, finding that he lives in the same neighborhood making it easy to assist him in the future. In church this past Sunday, she could tell that her husband dealt internally with some thoughts. She asked if he wanted her to go forward with him, and he said yes. As they waited in line, she continued to pray that the Lord touch his heart. When they reached the pastor, her husband began to ask that the pastor please pray for this man that he might be healed, because he knew the incredible healing powers of prayer. After this request for prayer, he accepted the Lord. Reflecting, she said, my selfish nature prayed for my husband the entire time to accept the Lord. In reality, the Lord placed that man at Walgreen's in his path to help lead him to Him.

Life is a maze of twists and turns, ups and downs, surety and insecurity- one thing that never fails is the fact that faith conquers all. Even when we feel at wits end, the ability to let go and let God is the only way to achieve true faith through He that holds the map of our eternal existence.

To L.G. and M.G.- a real reflection of the power of prayer.

Flippin' Friday

I should have known that this day was destined for greatness when I realized midday that the culprit of my discomfort came from the fact that I had my underwear on backwards. This really sets the tone for the day...

I had a ticket store set up today for those students that turned in all their homework for the six weeks. They could choose different prizes based on the number of tickets they earned. I ventured out yesterday to fetch all the trinkets needed to stock said store, and started today with high hopes. I opened the store and the kids began to come through with their tickets to pick out their treasure. I heard a comment of, I have this many tickets and this is all I get? I can be hard headed at times, it's in my genes I am afraid. Not to mention that my love language is giving gifts- it makes me feel good. I don't know about you, but we were raised to appreciate everything given to us. On my drive home, I managed to pinpoint some of the problem. In the words of the Berenstain Bears, they've got "A Case of the Gimmies". If I exhibited this type of behavior at school, my Dad would have gone straight for the board, which is still in action today with all of our signatures on it from each lick we earned. My redemption? Loading up all the items of the store and carting it right back into the return aisle after school this afternoon. What happened to the Little House mixed with modern day values? This scenario parallels with good and evil. The devil has so many tricks to entice and tempt, until the sin covers over the grace. The good that was instilled intrinsically in us has turned into the 'what's in it for me' attitude of today.

Wade is outside stoking the fire for our meat snack. In the background, on the TV, people are hunting Nutria out of an air boat in Louisiana. While I find this oddly amusing, I did not think it noteworthy enough to go and alert him to its presence. He just stalked in here and reprimanded me for not pausing or recording it. Have no fear- we found its coming on again on Sunday and have it all set to record. I think it's called Predator Nation and can be found on one of the myriad outdoor channels we have. I do get a hysterical visual of Wade and I posted up on either end of an airboat with our long guns and ear muffs hunting Nutria. Apparently they are to Louisiana's wetlands what feral hogs are to us. What a pair we are...

I enter this weekend with a vision of relaxation and down time with Boudini the Great. I also enter it with a thought provoking topic in mind: When you start your day with your panties on backwards, expect fascinating events to follow.

Perspective

In life we are taught to expect the unexpected and always be prepared. Sometimes, the unexpected sucker punches you in the stomach and takes your breath away. This week we learned that Boudreaux has cancer. Sunday we were playing as normal, Monday morning she could not even get off her bed. It's hard to explain the feeling that encompasses you when you think about such a large part of your life extinguishing without notice. Luckily, with the medicine she is taking, she is much more like her old 'Boudini the Great' self. We continue to pray and enjoy every single moment with her. She is truly the best.

These days seem to pass like a blur. Last weekend, I ventured over to McAllen to take my certification test. After four hours, everything ran together. I somehow managed to pass it with a little help from above. This week has been a whirlwind with the TAKS. Yesterday may have quite possibly been the most stressful day of my life. For six hours, I could only watch the students from my chair in the front of the class and circulate the room every ten minutes. I could not read, write, or do anything other than monitor. There's a specific script to follow and you can not say anything other than that. The kids can't talk all day, even at lunch- which left them on the brink of explosion by 3 p.m...Not to worry, they made up for it today. During the test, in my hours of time, I prayed for each one of them that they might remember all they'd learned and not be nervous. In the midst of it all, I began to wonder just how many of those students know the Lord. Do they go to church? Are they taught the Bible? Do they believe? In a country where our ability to minister as the Lord has called us to do has been taken away from us in the public schools, how could I reach them for Him? I continue to mull that over.

Our lives unfold so differently when you think about it. Ten years ago, would you picture yourself doing what you are doing where you are doing it? Life is about perspective. What you focus on becomes the pinnacle of your happiness. If stress smuggles itself in to become an inhibitor of happiness, we must refuse it. This is difficult, I am learning. I am pretty sure that hair loss due to stress should be the point where the bus starts backing up and the levels start lowering. In the grand scheme of things, sometimes beauty can emerge from tragedy. Even though we are devastated by the news of Boudreaux's health, it places the puzzle pieces of life in a different order. Does it matter if things are perfect at work when you leave, or if everything in the house is just so? Or does it matter that we made the most of each day even if all we wanted to accomplish has to keep until tomorrow. I aspire to be more aware of my time, and how to spend the most of it with those that matter the most.

Field Trip Day

I must admit, I felt slightly apprehensive about our class field trip to the aquarium today. As we wheeled out of the parking lot on the yellow dog, my thoughts drifted to my own bus driving days....well almost. When I went to A&M I needed to get a job. I saw an ad posted for bus drivers needed to drive the campus buses. I could do that, I thought coyly. I didn't get the green light on the hiring process. Needless to say, one too many curb checks is probably not the best policy for employment. It was probably for the best. No telling how many thousands of dollars I would have racked up in repairs needed after I parked that haus at the bus barn.

The kids shocked me today with their excellent behavior. This was the only opportunity that some of those kids will get to see things like that. The aquarium is really nice. They have a wonderful dolphin show with a backdrop of the bay. The bird show presented lots of rare hawks and different animals from the African safari. The look in their eyes said it all. My soul warmed to see their faces and hear their conversations so enthralled with learning about everything. Life may be full of speed bumps called adversity and road blocks called conflict, but it's also filled with green lights of simple life-affirming moments such as this that help us realize just how lucky we are to be a part of God's kingdom. I am so thankful for my parents and their undying devotion to make our childhood as special as possible. Thankfully, and regretfully because Wade has now seen this footage, almost our entire childhood was documented by a huge RCA shoulder mount video camera. We always took fun family vacations. We could rival the Griswold's for sure! Whether it was camping at Big Bend, driving to Calsbad Caverns, or just going to the river to fish with my grandparents- we always had fun and spent wholesome family time together. That time is irreplaceable to me. So much of the rat race of today replaces that special time. I aspire to the same greatness with our own family someday.

Here's to the little everyday experiences that make our lives a little more colorful, and the memories that spun the framework of our hearts. May we cherish those memories and not forget to thank those incredible people in our lives that shaped us into who we are today.

Belly of the Whale and Mud Slick Numero Tres

Jonah experienced sitting in the belly of the whale and found himself amongst the lucky ones given a second chance. So how do you get yourself out of the belly of the whale if the whale doesn't voluntarily spit you out? I ponder this thought. While driving home today I thought, why can't I just become an ice dancer? It's just like dancing on ice, and my dancing skills aren't that bad. I bet I could just flit around out there in my sequins and spandex, then they'd give me great scores so that maybe next time I would include a sarong with my get-up. Or in light of the other Olympic games, maybe I'll just take up speed skating and whiz around on skates longer than my entire femur. Then again, probably the best stress relief would be the agile snowboarders. They all seem so carefree and happy-go-lucky. They must wake up and think, I wonder if I could go sailing off the end of this half-pipe and catapult myself into two flips while twisting wildly in the air in hopes my board hits snow before my head crashes into this pipe. I know there's a lot of training involved to achieve such greatness, but they make it look so easy. We went to see the Rockettes before Christmas, and I thought for sure I could be on the silver stage with that bunch...Michelle and I got home and joined arms, fully prepared to reenact the leg kick show. We made it about two pumps and found a heightened respect for the ladies that don the title of Rockette. Some of the Olympic sports, however, I simply can't understand. The louge and the skeleton, for example. Any sport that requires me to go sailing down an ice cave at ninety miles an hour with nothing but spandex separating me and a one way ticket to meet my maker just won't do. The ringing of my phone snapped me back into reality.

Wade phoned to let me know I needed to be ready to go mud hauling when I got home. He had a most unbelievable day. I just thought having a kid thrash around in his desk during my observation this afternoon was bad. While cruising around the ranch filling feeders, he rounded a corner and POOF! A dirty, filthy, no way to see with the naked eye sand trap engulfed the suburban and feeder. I thought deja vu only happened twice? Right on que, it began to pour rain. You must understand that he was on the back of the ranch roughly three and a half miles from the barn, wearing rubber boots and a pullover jacket. I can not even begin to fathom the rage of fury that must have pulsated through his body. He hiked it back to the barn for the tractor. The tractor almost flipped over trying to haul this beast out of its trap. Strike. Next step, get the dozer. The dozer whipped it out of there. When I got home, we had to go fetch the suburban and feed wagon and ferry it and the other vehicle back home. I felt like I was spinning around in the twilight zone of repeat events. I have always loved thunder storms, and rain makes me feel cozy and warm inside. I revel at the sound of thunder and the tinking of rain on a tin roof. At that moment, however, I wanted to literally kneel by the suburban and blow on the ground in hopes my breath would magically transform into a super powered blow dryer.

So, how do we get out of the belly of the whale we find ourselves in? Well, today at least I had a partner in crime. While I thought my world was going to come apart at the seams, Wade experienced his own belly writhing experience. The point is, whatever we find ourselves going through, there's someone going through something equally as challenging. Tomorrow, we must try again. Maybe tomorrow's whale will be smaller, until finally it's the size of a perch, and we have successfully learned to navigate life's crazy quandaries.

I attached a picture of this beast of a suburban- the star of this year's rainy season.

China of the South

We went to church this morning for the first time in a while. I felt a few layers of my heart slowly peeling back as I listened to the sermon, surrounded by the fellowship of love within those church walls. I succumbed to the worry and stress of late, leading down a road of uncertainty. I shut myself off from my lifeline of eternal hope. For whatever reason, some of you may already know this, I am stubborn. Sometimes the red hair and German roots collide and anger creeps its way into the crevices of my heart. As a side note, anger is one letter away from danger, which is where it leads most of the time left untreated. Wouldn't you agree? Nonetheless, the sermon this morning spoke about truth and what defines it, opening the shunt of my heart to allow the anger to dissipate. The pastor proceeded to talk about the secular truths that often present themselves, and the importance of adhering to Godly truths with faith that your life will manifest itself in His hands. Those words were much needed for me this morning. This coming week, several agenda items have me stressed to the point of blinders, which inhibited me from seeking His help. Tomorrow I have to take a certification test and pass it in order to keep my job. Sometime this week I am scheduled to have my big observation in my classroom, Wednesday we are hauling a load of kids to the aquarium in Corpus (which is enough in itself to induce heartburn), and next Wednesday is the ever endearing TAKS test. With all this coming up, I need to lean ever heavier on the Lord for guidance and grace, however, I found myself steering the boat closer and closer to a deserted island, trying to manage it all on my own. Simply stated, trust goes hand in hand with truth. We must trust and follow even in times of doubt that feel like the brink of a mental cataclysm, and His truth will set us free of the debris that cloud the judgment of our souls.

On a lighter note, after church today, we hit up the China Buffet in Falfurrias. I realize that China Buffet and Falfurrias are like rain on an oil slick, but our options aren't exactly limitless here. We eased on in to scope out the spread. Right off the bat we felt wildly transported smack down in the middle of a clandestine off-the-beaten path eatery in Chinatown. For some reason, their choice of music bordered Chinese punk/ rave. I felt that while getting my food in the buffet line, I needed to jump up and down with one hand in the air. Along with the punk flare, just a hint of disco infiltrated its way into the beat. Once we sat down, I envisioned at any moment disco balls slowly dropping from the ceiling and hidden fog machines creeping up from the floor, completing the fascinating ambiance. Once I snapped out of the need to reenact the moves I once painstakingly stayed up all night learning while watching Saturday Night Fever, Wade and I braved the buffet. I can't be certain that the employees speak clear English, but possibly have enough phonetic recognition to ascertain the difference between the words 'hunan' and 'human'. There right above the heating lamp in plain black lettering- 'human chicken'. What I hope was a mere mistake in spelling, turned out to be the only meat I liked! As I slowly surveyed dish by dish what other interesting mysteries awaited, oysters came into view. I hate oysters, but Wade on the other hand could sit on the dock of the bay and subsist on them quite certainly. Our eyes met and the look on my face said a thousand words- if you put that on your plate, you will feel an overwhelming tinge of regret in your stomach in an all too timely fashion. Luckily, he thought better of it and left them to rest in their slimy plate of ice on the increasingly less appealing buffet line. Before I turned my head to go sit in our rave booth, there above the oysters lay a tiny sign with a Chinese warning label of some kind affixed to it. It read, "This no cooked! If allergy, no eat!" There you have it folks. If ever you feel the need to hem-haw and gripe about the lack of acceptable eating establishments in the vicinity of where you call home, think again. It could always be worse...

Crazy Town

The secret is out. I now know how innocent people admit to committing heinous crimes. They cram them in a room with slate gray institutional walls with nothing but their own thoughts to entertain them. Hours pass until they find themselves crazy enough to admit to anything. I experienced this today at the doctor's office. A rash managed to engulf my face, neck, chest, and back. It itches like fire, so I finally broke down and carted myself to the clinic. The clock read 4:40 when I entered said establishment. Three hours dwindled by as I waited. I could almost feel the earth slowly rotating on its axis. Recently I have found that my patience level with certain things carries an extremely low tolerance. While sitting in this dull gray room with minimal surroundings, questions crested to the top of my brain. Why am I deathly afraid of pool drains? Am I agile enough to do a running back flip off this wall? Would anyone notice if the tongue depressor jar resting on the tainted sanitarium style cart were moved? Should I try out for American Idol? Why does no one else in my family need glasses, but I can't see two inches in front of me? Seriously, these and more cracked questions infiltrated my mind. By the time the doctor finally came in, had he been the popo, I would have admitted to whatever it was they said I did just so I could get out of that room for a change of scenery! Luckily, it only took about five minutes to get my medications and be on my merry way...

This evening was in no way indicative of what I thought it would be based on the morning. The sunrise this morning absolutely penetrated the sky with hues of violet, terra cota orange, and soft yellow murals of sheer beauty. I found myself realizing the subtle miracles of God's creation and how easy it is to forget his grace, even for a moment. As I drove home tonight, my mind drifted to thoughts of this morning. With all the happenings of the day, I almost forgot about the beautiful beginning. In the everyday race we call life, may we remember what eternally matters at the end.

The Fuzz

We had a great weekend in San Angelo. We left yesterday shortly after lunch to head back south. I could not help but think of the movies when they show someone traveling a long distance. The map shows up on the screen, and the little dotted line slowly inches its way across the map to the designated location. That's how I felt yesterday. That drive feels as though you are in slow motion traipsing across the hemisphere to a new planet. Nonetheless, we made it.

Today cranked off like a siren- literally. This little gem of an incident happened once earlier in the year, however, I expected that to be the only run in with the fuzz. What's the incident? Watching the flashing, stroke-inducing, blinded by the rotating orb light bar on the Border Patrol vehicle as they pull you over. They pulled me over for the first time on Halloween. I need to say that I dressed up a bit for the occasion. I wore a bright purple glow in the dark shirt with pumpkins, witches, and haunted houses illuminating the dark with its glow. To complement, I donned a fuzzy headband with wire bats flying back and forth like bat bobble heads. I had the seat laid down because Boud likes to have a prime 'getting the cars' platform when she rolls with me in my car. Apparently that's a no-no as they take that to mean that I am harboring fugitives stacked on top of each other...Here's how it went down today- I blew out of the house this morning thinking of all the things I needed to accomplish before school. While sailing past a Border Patrol car, I noticed that it crept out of its hiding spot and gassed it right up to my bumper. This little game ensued for miles. I proceeded to eat my toast and wait for the finkish flashers to flare. After about ten minutes, I secretly wished I had a switch in my car to change the license plate to the abbreviation of "Cartel Queen". Finally, I just eased on to the shoulder and slowed down almost to a stopping point. The car wheeled in behind me, then made a u-turn, burned rubber, and blasted down the road in the opposite direction. This whole scenario just has me in stitches. Here I am borderline albino and have been pegged twice for a smuggler/trafficker. What a special thought.

The moral of the story: Life unexplained leads to much laughter.

Throwback to the Hollywood

This day started as every morning does: the dirty little alarm clock dinging the chipper songs of morning. However, this morning came even earlier with Boudreaux's sudden need to haul off and start barking bloody murder at 3 am. Seriously? Boud- unless there's an illegal bustin' through our front door, keep the wake up calls to a minimum (insert bless her heart here). Nonetheless, I rolled out of the house right on schedule at 6:15. I know there are good days and bad. We all can attest to them. I wouldn't go so far as to say that today was a total waste of make-up, but some desperate times arose that I simply must share. I tried all the tactics up my sleeve with these children sent straight from above. I tried the kind, sweet teacher who lovingly redirects. I'd say I made it through half the morning with that mode. I then escalated to the more stern version of this teacher, while maintaining the kind undertone. I hate raising my voice, you see. By 1 o'clock, I had a serious Fried Green Tomatoes flashback.

Before I say more, you must know that I have taken to wearing my boots. For some strange reason they make me feel like I have hidden super powers and whatever the kids do/say/throw at me- the boots will set me free. They make me feel closer to the northwest from here roots I at times will myself to click my heels three times and levitate to. I have worn them to the point of slickness on the bottom. By 1 o'clock, I wanted to yank open the door to my room, get a running start, and slide in to the center of the room. It gets better. I then (in this fabulous mind scenario) lunged myself on the top of one of the desks with my meter stick for a wand in my hand and screamed "TWANDA"! Since I couldn't rightfully do that without being put in a straight jacket, I rolled with it and did the best I could. At the end of the day, I couldn't help but remember Clark from Christmas Vacation after he ranted a blue streak about his boss not giving him his bonus. "Hallelujah! Holy Shit! Where's the Tylenol?!" I hate to use profanity here, but this phrase was just streaming through my mind, and it actually helped catapult me to a better place. Thanks Chevy. I really appreciate that addition to my vocabulary.

This evening, I had a banquet to go to for the mentee I have in my classroom. By this time of day, I was wicked tired and ready to eat, hear the awards, and go. Much to my hilarity, the presenter got on the podium and began to speak. Oh my holy lands. This man could not have been more of the epitome of Milton from Office Space if he tried. I had to feign a coughing fit so I could turn my face and get a hold of myself. I mean right down to the slight pauses and lisp. I realize that this comparison may be slightly crass, however, I don't think I have ever wished for a hidden tape recorder so badly in my life. It really made it worth the wait.

I guess we can thank Hollywood for providing us with these tiny little threads of humor that keep us from loosing our mind on a daily basis. Tomorrow, we head back to San Angelo for the weekend. It'll be a nice change of scenery. I'm looking forward to seeing family and friends I haven't seen in a long while. Funny how the very things you once took for granted are the things you most look forward to when taken away. Something to think about.

May your Friday be filled with flowers, chocolates, and showers of beauty in the precursor to the holiday of love. How's that for some sap? Have a fine Friday.

Sinner and Stress

Forgive me readers for I have sinned. It has been seven days since my last confession...At this moment, I feel as though someone turned me upside down and gave me a swirlie. My mind feels like jello rambling around within the confines of my brain. What, you might wonder, caused this swirliesque feeling? A combination of several things. One acronym slowly creeps into my mind, resting itself as the bane of my existence. TAKS. The writing test is upon me in three short weeks. I find myself stressed to the point of nightmares. This being my first year to teach public school, much of this year consists of just figuring out what to do in order to stay afloat. That said, I ambled home today on auto pilot. When I got to the cutoff to turn on 281 and roll home, a pleasant surprise awaited me. Nothing other than the jerky wagon. Yep, one might not expect to see such a contraption, but this here wagon sells every kind of jerky under the sun. What's your pleasure? Maybe a little elk meat, gator, deer, turkey? Or maybe your taste leans toward the exotic...he carries quite the assortment. If you can shoot it, I am fairly certain he's made it into jerky swinging in the wind from the janky jalopy he calls a trailer. Hand-painted cardboard signs start popping up about a mile out. He wheels that sucker under the overpass, lifts the sides up, and business begins. The funny thing is I bet he makes a killing. If nothing else, it never fails to crack me up every time I go by. If I hadn't been wasted tired this afternoon I'd have stopped and bought some just to say I have.

As the week goes on, I must continue to remind myself to take it one day at a time. Stress can easily come upon me like a freight train, leaving me feeling like I stuck my finger in a light socket just for kicks. I allow life's situations to overpower what counts. What really matters? The fact that I can come home tonight and watch Boud "get her baby" until the stuffing comes out, leaving shards of white cotton around her mouth reminiscent of rabies. Wade and I can watch the boob tube for a few minutes of mindless release. Tomorrow is a new day, fresh with new challenges, accomplishments, and the never ending love of family to pummel you through tough times. So, there's only one thing left to do for the day- sleep, recharge, and face the music.

Here's to slaying your inner dragons and appreciating each day to its fullest.

The Fink's

Last week felt like a whirlwind. I took two sick days to get over the mother of a cold I finally seem to have given the boot. Michelle had an overnight in Corpus on Friday. I looked forward to a relaxing evening of fine dining and relaxation with my sis. I arrived at the hotel to find she scored a stellar bayview suite with a swell panorama of the marina. We cracked open our first cocktails and toasted on the balcony with all the beginnings of a grand eve. After my whiskey and her bloody mary made their way south, we thought it best to ease on out for some fine seafood. Over our fabulous cuisine, Michelle had a restaurant epiphany. As we finished the last bite we could possibly have before needing to seek retribution, she shared this: what happens to those people who roll up into there, order appetizers, drinks, fine meals, and desserts, then say they can't pay. What if they didn't even carry any means of payment with them knowing flat out they had nothing to pay with? We managed to crack ourselves up mulling this over...Feeling content with a full stomach and a warm feeling in our souls, we sauntered back over to the hotel for some girl time. Just as we had settled in, disaster struck. You must wait with bated breath while I preface this disaster...

Saturdays remain the ultimate grandeur. The freedom to lazily doze in and out of sleep, waking to hear the birds chirping (or coyotes yipping- whatever is relevant). The freedom to watch Pebbles and Bam Bam in the morning should you feel so inclined. It's the day you can say, take this job and shove it and mean it because you don't have to go back to the j-o-b for a blissful 48 hours. Dreamy. Simply Divine. You know what makes a Saturday morning even more savory? A dreamy sleep the night before. In order to achieve this dreamy sleep for me, I must have my Mack's. Mack's earplugs that is. My love affair with these tiny bright orange gems began a few years ago when we got married, and the snoring drove me to the brink of insanity (disclaimer: this has since gotten a lot better). I feel such a strong loyalty to the product that I would love to roll up in the factory, stand on a podium, hike up my pants, and give a hefty salute to the men and women who've been saving sleepless marriages since ninteen-whenever they started making these fascinating pieces of wax. You need to know this because the one thing I forgot to pack on my venture to Corpus- my Mack's. I feel confident you now have the background information for the 'rest of the the story'.

As we fluffed our pillows, favorite trash mags in hand, a scream that could have rivaled any Halloween scream you have ever heard sliced through the air. We looked at each other in utter awe after we figured out it was a child's scream and not the scream of someone who had just been hacked up in the room next door. No big deal. Just a fluke occurrence. Probably some kid got a little charged up. I mean we've all experienced the grocery store, restaurant, or mall run in with an out of control child. Honestly, I've been told that I was a bit of a fit thrower as a child, so I can't really get too riled up about these things. We flip the page and continue reading up on the sagas that befit the rich and famous. Here it came again! This time with vigor. This kid had the pipes of an opera singer with no sense of how to use it. Before we had time to process, adult screams came blasting through followed by doors slamming over and over again. We consider ourselves to be relatively patient people, but push it to the limit and sugar becomes spice not necessarily nice. She has a trick she uses on her many hotel stays- bypass the front desk, peek out the door to get their room number, and call yourself. We did and no change. The last straw arrived right about midnight when security came to shut them down. Unbelievable. I pined for my Mack's. I'm not ashamed to say it. Here comes the silver lining. Obviously neither of us could go to sleep, so we brainstormed the horrible revenge tactics we could implement. I know I deserve a slap on the hand for being vindictive, but we came up with some doozies! We schemed to lay on the floor and beat the walls with our feet while blasting the alarm clock and playing rap music on Pandora as loud as the speakers would go. In the end, we just got up early to go have breakfast and left the alarm against the wall blaring in our wake. I know, Twisted Sisters. It sure felt good sauntering down the hall to the elevator hearing it dwindle as we got further away. Ah, the simple pleasures in life. The real laugh came when Michelle had the pleasure of meeting the Fink family before she left. They were banging around in the hallway, bless their hearts, and she gave them a curt lesson in courtesy including how to properly close the hotel door without waking the dead. Truly hilarious!

I suppose the moral here is: a)double check your bag for must-haves before you leave lest you end up in a similar situation b)never underestimate the assembly- liners who make some of our most prized possessions available c)sometimes we have to get through the clouds to find the silver linings d) it's fun to stick it to the Fink's every now and again!