An old German town in the Hills of Texas - November 30, 2006 -
We spent the weekend with Bill’s folks in “The Hills” of Texas. Our little retreat that they have prepared up there for their family members is really wonderful. Yes, it is very isolating. Yes, there are bugs. Yes, once on the land, you must go through 3 gates to get to the house. It is in the middle of prime Texas land and access to the world is quite a drive…..and that is one reason we go. To get away from it all.
I have some photos, but first in answer to the e-mails I have not been able to get to yet…..yes, I had my last day of full time work, and am so happy! I spent today catching up on laundry, paying bills and best of all, spending time with my kids. Life is sweet. I am taking a break for a couple of weeks, then will sign up for a few shifts each month. It will be nice trailer travel money.
On with the photos.
Mama Mia loves being with her Nanny cooking in the little ranch house.
Papa and Mia bonding
Glorious leaves in Texas
Christmas decor is out on Main Street
The best part of shopping is slipping into a German bakery. Mmmmm
Even dingos like to ride in cars
Parting shot……..check out all the loot on the counters that Nanny stocks the house with. I leave there stuffed to the hilt.
Turkey, Texas style - November 24, 2006 -
In Texas, we boil our Turkeys in oil.
Doesn’t everyone?
It is a fascinating process….especially when the turkey has a bit of ice on it. Oil heated to 350 degrees reacts stronly to water. ‘Nuff said.
Passing the bird carving honor down to the next generation.
Even cousins come Texas sized.
And yes, they are all surfers. Can’tcha tell?
Happy Thanksgiving ya’ll!
Heartwood - November 21, 2006 -
I grew up in a neighborhood full of children. Most of the families had 1 or 2 kids, what one would consider a small family. The two large families consisted of mine, with 3 children, and the family at the top of the hill with 4 children, all boys. It was a lively neighborhood, and we all played together on the tree lined street called Juneau. I remember vividly the change of seasons and the joys of those days.
Fall would have us donning our Halloween costumes to trick or treat throughout the neighborhood. It was a time of innocense, when there were no poisoned candies, no apples filled with razor blades. Our apples were covered in caramel, and the candies had every type of sugary, delicious filling in them. We went from house to house without any fears, large bands of kids in costumes of all kinds. I can remember being a fierce tiger, a skeleton and a ghost. But the thing I remember most was the joy of being with my siblings and friends. The wind blown leaves racing ahead of us as we made our way from house to house.
Being in Texas, our winters were mild, but they always brought at least one or two snow or sleet days. Days when we would wake up with a feeling of wonder as we pulled back the curtains to see a landscape covered in white. My brother and I would run down the hall and stand staring out the back windows at the ever so rare scene. The newness of it would have us making one track of footprints through the dazzling white snow so as not to destroy the beauty of it. We would walk through this one trail until we could no longer resist the temptation to throw ourselves into the powdery perfection.
On those beautiful winter days, we would hike through the snow, dragging our sleigh behind us, the 2 miles to the golf course to find some snow covered hills to slide down. In the evening, we would head home, the sun setting brilliantly on the glittery whiteness surrounding us. We would warm ourselves by a roaring fire built by my father in the stone fireplace that made up one wall in the den. The fires would be so hot, you could not sit near them. We would place marshmallows on sticks, and stretch our arms out into the heat of the fire and watch them cook. My brother liked to brown his, but I liked mine charred. I would let them catch fire, then blow them out and peel the cooked outer part of the marshmallow off and place it in my mouth. My father would sit in his chair and watch us, sometimes telling us stories about his life as a boy in Wisconsin. The time he and his uncle found the arrowheads in the newly plowed field on his grandparents farm, or how he used to walk to school in the snow and ride his bike 15 miles every Friday to the farm to help out over the weekend. Years later, sitting at his funeral, I would thank God that I absorbed every word he said.
Christmas would descend upon us in a flurry. My mother would bake cakes, cookies, pies and a whole host of treats for us. On Christmas Eve, being that my mother was Italian, we would have a traditional midnight Italian dinner complete with pizza pie, spaghetti and manicotti. My grandmother would roll out the pizza dough and spend the entire day in the kitchen. Oh, the smells would make your stomach rumble. All of my parents close friends would attend, and I would struggle to stay awake to hear them talking into the wee hours of the morning.
One Christmas, my brother decided to stay awake and hide so he could catch Santa Claus. He was apparently unsuccessful, as in the morning I would find him tucked snugly into bed. He claimed that Santa brought him there from his hiding place under the coffee table. Who knows, maybe he did. I can now look back and imagine the loving arms that lifted him and carried him down the hall, placing him gently into his bed. I have felt the weight of one of my own children in my arms, much like my father did that Christmas Eve.
In the morning we would leap from bed and run into my older sisters room and wake her. Oh the wonder of running out to see the presents under the 14 foot fir tree that we decorated together. There would be stuffed animals that my father would claim came alive in the night, dancing and playing and we would find footprints made of ash going from the fireplace to the tree and back again. I can still recall following behind my mother later in the day as she vacuumed them up.
One Christmas, I remember waking at 5a.m. and going out to the den with my brother. He was around 12 then, and he told me we could not open presents, but I could pick up the little animal family that was sitting out unwrapped for me from Santa. Jack made a palate by the still burning fireplace, put another log on the fire, and we fell back to sleep with the lights from the trees in our eyes. He was a precious brother to me.
Spring is a blur in my memory. I recall how the Easter bunny would actually hide our baskets, and on rousing Easter morning, we would race through the house looking for them. He was a tricky fellow, and would fake us out by puffing out the curtains to look like a basket was behind them. One year he hid my brothers basket so well that one hour later, we still could not find it. We woke our parents to tell them, and they helped him find it. It had been tied to a string and hung behind my mothers art easel in the den. The baskets would be filled with chocolate footballs, a big hallow chocolate bunny, jelly beans, peanut butter filled eggs and a whole host of other assorted Easter candies. When we were very young, he would also bring a stuffed animal or toy.
Summer was our time to shine. It sticks out in my memory as a time for catching fireflies in the big backyard with my father, the smell of grilled steaks, of rolling down the hill next to our house in the grass, and sleeping in the backyard under the stars on the carpet of St. Augustine grass so well cared for by my parents. All of these things are so vivid to me, but the thing that I remember most about summer is the creek.
The creek was where my friends and I basically lived all summer long. My first introduction to it was at a very young age. I slipped out of the house one day following my brother and his friends down to the place that is etched in my very being. It was filled with giant oaks, towering high up into the sunlight. Small streams flowed throughout its massive acreage, filled with fish, reptiles and amphibians of every shape and size,. Tall grasses bent in the breeze, growing as high as they like without the management by mankind.
It was a glorious place, full of mystery and danger, and I traveled its trails and streams from the tender age of 5 up to adulthood. My brother was my idol, and where he went, I went, no matter how hard he protested and made it difficult for me.
“GO HOME” Jack yelled at me through his clenched teeth. I stood my ground, and did not turn back. I knew he was too gentle and kind to ever hurt me. That is why I never listened to his threats.
“I am telling you, if you don’t go home you will have to do everything that we do. Including climb the old Oak”, Jack threatened. The old oak was where he and his friends had continued building a tree house started by the older brothers of several buddies. It was a massive tree, easily 200+ years in age. The first platform that was built in the tree was about 15 feet off the ground…..a long way for a 5 year old to fall.
“I don’t care. I can do anything you can do. Doesn’t matter that I am a girl and smaller” I spat back. Jack turned on his heels and started trotting in the direction of a dead end in the road. We lived about 6 blocks from the beginning of what we called the creek. It was several thousand acres of forest that had not been developed as of yet, and the neighborhood kids ruled over it.
I ran as fast as my legs would carry me. At the end of the road, there was a metal road block, and I climbed over it and entered the dirt trail that led down among the trees to the old oak. Upon arriving, Jack and his friends had already climbed its trunk and were sitting on the first platform of the tree house.
I shielded my eyes and gazed up at them.
“If you want to be with us, you have to at least learn how to climb up to the first platform”.
I started for the massive trunk, and reached up to grasp the first rung of the ladder. The rung was placed high so that small children could not climb the tree. “Stupid boys” I thought. It was a primitive ladder, nailed there so many years ago by boys eager for adventure in the limbs of the massive oak. I pulled myself up, swinging my foot to the next rung, only to miss it and drop to the ground.
“See, I told you that you are too little. Maybe in a few years….”
“NO” I screamed at him. I reached up again and grabbed the rung. With every ounce of strength in my little body, I flung my weight upward and my foot snagged the aging piece of wood. I pulled and struggled, scrapping my bare knees on the bark of the tree, and the next thing I knew, I was standing on it, and clutching the second rung of the ladder. I heard a collective sigh of exasperation from my 10yo brother and his friends. I ignored them and started the effortless climb up the rest of the ladder. Up, up, up I went, until the ladder ended at an enormous branch that extended to the right like a fork in a road.
The branch was huge. So big I could not get my arms around it. It extended about 10 feet out, and that is where the boys, along with a few of their older brothers, had built the first platform to play on. The trickiest part of climbing this tree was not getting up the ladder. It was getting from the ladder to firm footing on the large branch. You had to extend your upper body away from the trunk, lean your chest across the branch, then let your feet swing off the ladder and hang precariously, 15 feet off the ground. Which is where I found my tiny self, before my brother could yell at me to stop. I knew instantly that terror had seized me and I was frozen on my perch for the rest of my life.
I started crying and said “Go get Dad”
“No” Jack calmly said as he inched out onto the branch. “Just don’t look down. Now, pull yourself up onto the branch and straddle it.” He reached out to grab my arm and I cried, “Don’t touch me, I’ll fall”. He backed away.
I whimpered and struggle to inch my body away from the trunk so I could crawl up and straddle the branch. My shorts snagged on the bark, and I had to reach down with one arm and pull them lose. My remaining arm held a death grip on the tree. I then inched my body up onto the branch and found myself laying perpendicular to it, with my arms and legs wrapped around it. Okay, now what.
Jack had eased himself back toward the platform
“Okay. Now stand up and walk across the trunk to the platform”. Jack stated with authority.
STAND UP??????? What was he talking about. I couldn’t fathom ever getting back down the tree, let alone standing up and walking across the limb, with the ground so far below.
“What if I fall?” I cried.
“You won’t. The limb is huge. It is harder to inch worm across it than it is to just walk.”
First I sat up, my legs gripping the branch in a vice. I reached back and used the trunk to steady myself as I slowly eased myself into a standing position. I still remember looking across the length of the branch at my brother and his buddies, vowing in my mind that I was just as brave and strong as they were. I took the first step, still balancing with my hand on the trunk. The next step had me on my own, walking across the rough surface of the oak like a acrobat on a tight wire. I recall that it took about 10 steps that first time on the tree. Later, when I was 12, I would bound across it in 3 steps.
The last step I lunged forward and grabbed onto the platform and crawled on top of it. I sat up and could feel the branch swaying just a tad. I looked around at the boys, and my gaze fell on my brother and I recall a mixture of relief and pride on his face. We sat and talked for a bit, and then it was getting dark, and we heard my fathers shrill whistle calling us home.
Getting down was more terrifying than the trip up, but the boys went first, and my brother guided me down, lifting me off the last rung of the ladder and setting me solidly back on the ground.
When we got home, I was in for it. My mother just about had a fit that I took off without her knowledge, and forbid me from ever going to the creek again. She would have died straight away if she ever knew the lengths that I would go to follow my brother, her only son, wherever he went. That was only the beginning of my adventures with him, but it was a wild start.
My brother is now 46 years old, and I am 41. He is a missionary, at times living in places like Tunisia and Morocco, Africa. At present he is settled down in the US with his wife and 2 children. We do not talk as often as we both would like due to some issues in his new family, and I miss him.
When I look back on my life with him, I am constantly reminded of that day at the old oak. It is no wonder that the green oak is top on my list of favorite trees. It is such a majestic, seemingly wise tree.
The oak, like most trees, is made of both heartwood and sapwood. The heartwood is in the center of the tree. The sapwood, which provides nourishment to the tree, surrounds this inner strength. All wood starts out as sapwood. It is with age and growth that the sapwood becomes heartwood. Broken limbs, insects boring into it, fire; they all threaten the heartwood. It is amazing that some trees are hundreds and even thousands of years in age, and yet they stand.
A few years ago, progress came to our old neighborhood. All of those beautiful acres of forest were turned into housing developments. The metal road block where our creek began was removed, and asphalt was laid down over the trails I walked as a child.
The Old Oak, having towered over its spot by the side of a creek for more than 200 years, was cut down. A house stands in its place. For the life of me, I will never understand the ignorance of this. Its wood did not fail it. People did.
Life will work to tear down the relationship I have with my brother. I won’t let it. We grew up together, loving and encouraging each other; nourishing our relationship like the sapwood does for the oak.
As time passes, age will strengthen us.
Like heartwood.
Only stronger.
A story - November 21, 2006 -
I will never ever claim to be a writer. I may write a thing here and there, but, a writer? Naw. I have neither the talent nor the time.
Last year I started the NanoWrite thing. 50,000 words in a month.
I, um, did not get anywhere near the 50,000, but I did actually finish a short story.
You wanna to read it?
Well, okay. I will post it here.
By the way. It is a true story.
It is called Heartwood.
And you are not allowed to laugh. Okay?
Offensive - November 21, 2006 -
Gosh, I will be stepping on toes here. I know I have loads of wonderful readers who are pro-choice. I myself am pro-life. VERY flipping pro-life. I do not judge someone on their stance, either way. I don’t have pro-llife banners all over my site. I believe it in the core of my being, and occasionally I will write a post about it. It just is a part of me that will always be, come hell or high water.
That is why I have to say how incredibly offensive the new Blogher Planned Parenthood ad is to me. It just is. It makes me feel nauseated. Just plain weary and sad.
I was in the process of joining the Blogher ad netwok. I won’t be joining it now. To me, it would be supporting Planned Parenthood in a round about way, and I don’t, support PP that is. Ever. Never. In a million years never. Joining the network would be like sell out to me.
I apologize for any toes I may have stepped on. It is nothing personal. I totally love you guys.** I just hate PP and what they stand for.
Off to find some cover. Please use small objects.
**EDITTED TO ADD I totally mean this. I don’t think friends have to be identical in their beliefs. If we all thought alike, things might get quite dull, you know?
You can take all the tea in China - November 16, 2006 -
I spent 2 years trying to carry a pregnancy to term. I endured 4 miscarriages, progesterone shots, patches, medicine that made me have PMS every day of the month, and mood swings that make me surprised that anyone would still want to have me in their life.
My daughters birth was considered a miracle by her doctors and I most certainly cannot argue that point. She is a precious gift to our family and our love for her is ferocious.
When Mia was just over a year old, I made a video to celebrate her first year with us. I would like to share it with you.
Here is just one of four reasons why I went in to work on Monday and gave my notice.
I have missed her so much that I made myself physically sick.
I went to hell and back to have her, then proceeded to spend 3/4 of my time away from her.
Yes, I quit my job. I quit my job because I want and NEED to be with my children.
The surprising thing is, Carl, my boss, hugged me and said he understood, and welcomed my offer to work PRN (as needed)! More about that later.
For now, I need to go dance with my girl to Tupleo Honey.
On Any Sunday - November 12, 2006 -
We had a FABULOUS weekend. We crammed so much into it, and had a blast every step of the way.
Where to start? How ’bout some photos.
Making pasta
Making fire, (and learning about magnifying glasses)
Making our own fun at the park
Kathy, not sure if you are planning to pass through our town, but thought you might like to see some pics of the park.
An RV sight with a wonderful view
Cows at the park
The little stream that runs through it, ready to explore
Creatures found in the stream
The whole set is up at Flickr if you would like to see more.
And the best part about our weekend? We made a big decision after much talking and I will be acting on it tomorrow. I will let you know when it is a done deal.
Nite all!
Old Yeller didn’t die - November 10, 2006 -
Today was day 10 of rabies quarantine.
Honey is not foaming at the mouth.
She loves water.
And the effects of the dip are long gone and Honey is delightful!
No rabies shots for Mia.
:*)
___________
We were supposed to get the hell out of Dodge today for a weekend away in the Little House, but it was not meant to be. AGH!It has been almost 4 months since we have been able to get away. I am so frustrated. I am really, really tired of putting the kids activities ahead of our family time together. We have another trip planned in the coming weeks, and we are GOING come hell or high water.
___________
On the election……whatever.
___________
Did you know that the only pictures I have taken in the last few days with my camera are pictures of shoes?
___________
While Trick or Treating last week, my friends 2 year old daughter walked up to a house and when asked “What would you like for a treat?” replied “Well, do you have any meat?”
___________
It appears that I might have a new onset heart murmer that is a bit symptomatic. Oh, now come on. Don’t look at me like that. Who the hell out there could possibly be surprised about this? I mean, the way things have been going lately, I am expecting that big ass meteor that they keep talking about (you know, like the one in “The Day After Tomorrow”) to land right! on! my! ass! any day now.
I guess I will see a cardio doc next week.
In the meantime, I will go to work and play tug-a-war with primips (first time moms) for 2 hours! I feel like I was hit with a freight train, so I can only imagine how the patient felt today.
____________
The beach is screaming my name. If my husband knows what is good for him, he will salvage one of my days off and make a day trip to Port.
____________
Enjoy your weekend, folks, and I will see you sometime at the end of next week. That is, if work does not kill me. It seems to be trying its damndest!
Kyle - November 10, 2006 -
I have a mission for each of you today. Please, please would you do this for me?
First, please view this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=azgBhZfcqaQ
Did your heart skip a beat? I know it did. Mine might have stopped for a few beats.
Please do a post today and add Kyles video to it.
Next, if you have kids, go to your car, van etc and take a photo of the inside, showing your car seats…with or without kids in them, (but with kids would be too cute). Are they buckled correctly? Are they the right size for your child?
Now post that pic in your post for Kyle’s family.
Post a comment below with a link to your site. With over a 1000 unique visitors a week (whoops, edit that to be 1177 this week)here at and baby makes 6!, we should be able to get some serious blog posts out there, doncha think?
Now go………..because you guys rock!
NoBloShoeMO - November 10, 2006 -
Clipping in and hittin’ the road for a bike ride.
De-stressing never felt so fine.
*you can see more cool shoes here!
Evanescence - November 6, 2006 -
I am drawing a complete blank. My mind, it seems like, has gone completely to “white out”. I will try to put something here, but it will not be a “Perfect Post” or one of those posts that gets gushing reviews on other blogs. The words are swirling in my head like a Picasso painting. I need to sort them, so here goes.
Sunday morning, our next door neighbor called me at around 7:30a.m. and asked if I could help her with her husband. He was home on hospice care, and had thrown up a bit and she needed some assistance to clean him. Certainly I would help. So, I headed on over to their home.
I have to preface my story by saying that V is a layperson. Completely oblivious to all things medical. She is normal, and I feel a bit jealous about this. She can still look at a situation and not see the worst case scenario. She is innocent, medically, and that is something that has been robbed of me by my education.
When I saw Pastor, I knew that things were not good. V was busy tending to the problem that she saw as the most important. Me? I immediatley phoned Bill and he rushed over.
To make a long story short, and to protect my dear neighbors privacy, I will say that Bill and I were so blessed to have been able to be there for V. as she said goodbye to her husband of 38 years, peacefully in her living room, early Sunday morning.
Afterward, I had to rush off to get to an Advanced Cardiovascular Life Support class. I had been to it the day before, and it was time to take my test to get certified.
I got to the facility 15 minutes after Pastors death. I got my written exam and stared at it. Then it happened. Pure, blinding, white out. I got 7 answers wrong. I couldn’t even recognize atrial fib. I did pass, but I don’t know how.
The thing is…..I imagined myself in V’s place, caring for Bill like that.
That flash that happens at the moment of nuclear detonation? That is what is in my head.
This is so not a bad thing. I am not turning off, checking out or losing it. Quite the contrary. I feel so alive right now. What an acid trip would feel like if I knew what an acid trip felt like. Like I am aware of everything. The pulse beneath my wrist. The heat from my sons sweaty head as he sits next to me, just out of reach, after he has been running outside. My shadow on the driveway as I walk to my car. I have to stop and stare at it, and marvel at the fact that I am here to make one.
I lay awake and images flash across my mind. Quinn throwing his head back and laughing. Cory brushing his blond hair out of his eyes with his hand. Cody shooting around the driveway on his scooter. Mia, asleep, her little sighs brushing against my neck. Bill lying beside me sleeping in bed, his eyes moving gently under his lids.
And Pastor taking his last breath. Can you believe that you can physically stand there and see a human being exhale their last breath? I could have caught it in my hand it was so palpable. Like a cloud……there, but when you try and touch it, it just swirls around your fingers. Evanescence.
The slate of my mind has been wiped clean. Except for the many snapshots. Images of people feeling, laughing, suffering, loving, hurting,…….I really feel that sometimes, the heart can be filled to capacity.
Mine is flowing over.
Photo time! - November 2, 2006 -
Time for a photo blog day.
For all who e-mailed about Honey and Mia, well, things are fine now. Best friends again. Thanks so much for your asking!
Halloween was great. We did a hay ride, and the kids had a blast. Cory ended up going with a friend TOT’ing….it bummed me out, but I understand he is getting older and needs his friends. (sigh)
My kids are somewhere in the crowd here
One house gave little Beanie animals to the small children. Such a great idea!
Recognize that costume above? Yeah, she did NOT want to be Snow White. She wanted to be a fairy again, so she was. Quinn was a little ghost with runs down his face mask.
We had a ton of fun, and the SUV pulling the trailer had a cooler full of cokes for the kids, and beer for the adults. Mmmmmmmm.
And now, I introduce to you my new best friend. Internet, meet Vibiemme. Vibiemme, internet.
She weighs 69 pounds, and is one mean machine. She can pound out a shot of liquid gold that would make any Barista cry.
Coffee is on!
Soccia! - November 1, 2006 -
Let’s see…..where to begin.
I’ll just jump right on in! The dog nipped my daughter in the face this morning. It is minor, and it was not an aggressive nip. But, you know, we don’t know Honey from Adam. As the day wore on I started to think about it and worked myself into a foaming frenzy. Called the Rescue Center place, and they have had her since September 9th. She has had her rabies vaccine….on October 11th. Prior to September 9th, Honey and her mother and sister were at the pound for 3 days. They came to the pound as strays…or were dumped. The Rescue lady was not sure. So, maybe strays, off the street, in a county that has had some rabies reported in bats in the last few months.
After much FREAKING THE FUDGE OUT I calmed down and called the rabies control dudes for the state of Tejas. It seems that that was the right thing to do, as he basically told me to CALM WAAAAY the THE FLOCK DOWN. There have been no documented cases of rabies in dogs this year in that county……and only 1 in 2005. We just have to quarantine Honey in a crate at home for 10 days, then have a vet examine her, and have said vet call the rabies coordinator for our county.
The reason we have to crate her (I know, I hate it too) is not because we think she has rabies. It is so she does not escape from the yard or get lost in the next ten days. If that were to happen, Mia would have to be treated for rabies. Soccia!
To complicate things, I had taken Honey to the vet yesterday to be dipped for a spot of mange she had on her head. Apparently, dogs can have some neurological effects from the dip. They get lethargic, can be uncoordinated and in some it can be quit severe. Yes, you are correct. Honey fell into the “some” category and has had to have 2 injections of anti-toxin. It is remarkable to see her before and after the shot. One minute she is lethargic and acting not like the Honey we know………she gets the shot and wham! Honey is back with her wonderful personality.
PLEASE NOTE THIS!!!! DO NOT DIP YOUR DOGS FOR DEMODEX WITH AMITRAZ OR GENERICS OF IT.
I could KICK myself for not following my instinct that told me not to dip her.
Why this complicates things is, the Amitraz toxicity she is experiencing is CNS involved…….so is rabies in the end stages.
Still following me?
The vet said that since Honey responds to the shots of yohimbine, you can pretty much rule out that it is rabies causing her symptoms, but, we still have to crate her for 10 days.
My stomach is burning like a hot iron in hell. My stress level lately has been off the charts, I got my period (sorry guy readers) and this is just one! more! element! than I can handle. Obviously, I WILL handle it. I just have to do my little freak dance for you, sweet internets.
I want to get really drunk right now. Want to join me?
