...from Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop

10 of My Absolute Worst Pet Peeves...

Pet Peeves, the things that really, really bother the OCD side of our personalities because we can not fix these traits in someone else even though we would really, really love to do so!

10)  Being trashy--not picking up after yourself in public, because [wherever] has a janitorial staff and it's their job, or just because you are plain lazy and don't want to deal with it.  (Trash accumulates and is really, really nasty.)

9)  People talking loudly, especially on their mobile phones, in a public place.  Yes, everyone wants to have a good time with friends, and everyone has a mobile nowadays, but I do not want to be a part of your conversation.  It is just downright rude!

8)  Line jumping.  You are not more important than the other people ahead of you in line, and poor planning on your part, does not make it an emergency on mine.  Plan accordingly and wait your turn.

7)  Failure to use your turn signal while driving.  Let folks know what you are going to do with your car; it could be really important.

6)  People who won't yield to a fire truck, an ambulance, or a funeral procession, because they think that what they have to do is more important than a fire truck or ambulance's lights and sirens or paying last respects.

5)  Using the last of an item and putting the box back on the shelf as if it still had some contents remaining.

4)  People who try to drive and talk/text on their mobile.  They wreak havoc on everyone around them.  There are those who can do it well--carry on, but to those who can not, pull over and talk or hang up and drive.

3)  Hypocrisy.

2)  Screaming babies in public.  I love children, but I do not go out to eat, to the movie, to shop, or board a plane to hear someone else's child scream because a parent chooses not to do their job.  On the rare occassion that my brother or I threw a tantrum in public, Mom stopped what she was doing, scooped us up, took us out of there--either to the restroom or packed us in the car and home we went.  It's not convenient for the parent, but you don't have to do it but once or twice.  Instead, everyone has to suffer the screams, and everyone has to be inconvenienced.  I do say something, even as my husband hides under the table.

1)  Mean people.

Google Overhaul

I love to write.  I love reading, and for me, blogging has provided an outlet for those two passions.  I find I don't talk to myself as much as I used to because I blog.  I found I read what other people had to say about the thoughts they had on any chosen topic, so I decided I would return to writing.  I ended up creating two blogs--one about fly fishing, and one about everything else besides fly fishing.

I have been a teacher for 22 years, and my students have taught me a thing or two.  The kids who have lived with technology all their lives are called Digital Natives; everyone else is a Digital Immigrant.  Digital Natives despise the "how-to" manuals and just play.  They make mistakes, learn from those mistakes, and play and create, wonderfully imaginative creations.  So, I copied the kids.  I chose Google's Blogger over Wordpress after dabbling with each provider's blogging features.  I like being able to use my own pictures for my backdrop (FishOn! the Fly was taken in the Seychelles, and Musings was taken at sunset in Islamorada, Florida).  I like how easy Blogger's templates are to navigate.  I like that I can write and then manipulate the html coding to create a wanted effect.  I like being able to chose a layout from a template.  The template has already been thought about as to what is pleasing to see and read, so I just pick the one I like best.  I like adding third party Java Script and manipulating the Favicon to make my site even more personal is pleasing.  I liked a lot about Google, and I already had a Google Mail account, so maybe the choice had already been made.

However, will all these things that I like create a problem with Google's reinvention of itself?  Will a name change be mandatory for all Blogspots?  Will links still work?  I don't receive many visitors other than close friends and family on my personal thoughts blog, so it won't be difficult to manipulate the changes.  However, my fly fishing blog will be a nightmare to re-link and re-post and may not even be worth it.  Google hasn't posted any details, yet, but the changes have been in place for a couple of weeks and should be occurring for about four more.  Two good articles as to what is happening with Google and their move to Google +.

Blogger & Picasa Renamed

Google +

The Wild Things Are Where?

My precious Aunt and Uncle live in a city--in a developed neighborhood--with two major thoroughfares in near proximity.  When I went to their home, Thursday, for a lovely visit, I was quite surprised at the tale I heard and evidence I saw.  My Uncle bought an animal trap for opossums and raccoons!  In the city, they are having a rodent invasion.  First, they trapped an opossum.  Now, the only time I ever knew an opossum to be cute is in Mem Fox's Possum Magic.  My Uncle took the trapped creature across the street for the two girls to see, and after they oohhed and aahhed over it, their dad conveniently shot the hissing, snarling rodent.

Then, the next opossum came, but this 'ole boy was a smart one.  He munched on the marshmallows laid out leading up to the trap, but no going in to that trap.  Instead, he waddled the other way, jumped in the pool, swam quickly to the other side, and got away.  After the opossum, a lengthy trench appeared running along the house foundation, so my Uncle laid another marshmallow trail.  Trapped and escaped that raccoon did.  Modifications--tightening the trap door--made, and the trap was again laid.  Second raccoon caught and trapped. 

Now, my Aunt and Uncle phoned a city department to come pick up the raccoon.  Until said department could arrive, my Aunt and Uncle had to keep the raccoon fed, hydrated, and cool, because if the trapped raccoon died while under their "care," they could be fined for cruelty to animals!  They put a misting fan blowing on it, fed, and watered it.  They also had to put heavy stones on top of the cage, because the raccoon kept rocking the cage, using its little hands to manipulate the door and stones trying to escape.  Good try raccoon, but no such luck, because said department worker finally arrived.  My Aunt asked the young man what they were going to do with the raccoon, and he said they were going to euthanize it!  A couple of days later, the worker returned to let my Aunt and Uncle know that the raccoon was a nursing one, and they should be on the lookout for the little ones.  Papa raccoon had left evidence of his presence, but he has not been caught, yet. 

My Uncle decided that the inability to catch the other rodents was because they had become trap shy.  So, my Uncle got their Christmas garland from out of the attic and meticulously weaved the garland in and out of all the cage's bars.  I had seen the decorated cage in the garage, but I didn't know what it was until someone told me.  Next came more marshmallows and it was time to set the trap.  Now, I had my doubts about the camouflage working, but boy was I wrong.  On Saturday, my Mom phoned me saying she had just heard from my Aunt that they had trapped another opossum!  I don't know its fate, but the contraption works.  For Christmas, my Aunt and Uncle are adding lights; afterall, these are city rodents.

The Closers

New Home Owners

Well, in a process that was easier than I thought it was going to be, we signed papers and paid money to become the new owners of a house Cody and I picked out together.  Now, we are landlords for the next three weeks, because the former owners can not move in to the house they bought until the people from whom they bought their house move out.  That couple can not move out until their new house is built, and so fall the dominoes.  We look forward to moving-in, so we can start making the new house our home!

One of "Those" Phone Calls

When the phone rings, you never know what to expect.  Most of the time, it's a friendly chit-chat, but there is always that one phone call that catches you off-guard.  Cody and I had one of "those" phone calls, this afternoon. 

Our dear friend Jason phoned just after a quiet and enjoyable lunch, and the look on Cody's face told me something was different about this call.  Cody put the call on speakerphone, and Jason told us about the adventure Dawn and he had Friday evening.

Jason and Dawn left Jason's home to go eat a late supper around 7:30 p.m.  Jason is a pediatrician, and so he has a phone service.  Being on-call this weekend, it was not surprising that the service called while they were at the restaurant.  However, the conversation was a first, and hopefully won't ever be repeated.  At 8:45 p.m., the service secretary said, "Dr. Jason, one of your neighbors is on the phone calling to say your house is on fire.  Would you like to talk with her?" 

Well, yeah, and after a brief conversation with the neighbor, Jason and Dawn left the restaurant and headed home.  Only, they had to park at the end of the street, because there were 42 firemen in 12 firetrucks, including two hook-and-ladder units, and a Salvation Army truck tending to two injured firemen parked up and down their street.  Jason's 15 year old hot tub's wiring suddenly sparked a fire, disintegrating the hot tub, surrounding decking, yard, and jumped the fence to the neighbor's yard and back part of their house.

The hot tub was located at the end of the deck at the back of the house.  Jason's back doors, a couple of windows, an electrical circuit in the garage, and the t.v. cable were damaged from the heat, but that was the extent of the damage at Jason's home (even the Green Egg survived).  Their neighbor's home, however, was partially burned, but fortunately, the homeowner was not home and had no pets.  Jason has a lab named Corona, who is crate-kept whenever they leave the house.  Corona's crate is at the back door, and when Jason and Dawn were putting Corona up before they left, they saw nothing wrong with the hot tub or the deck. 

We love our friends, and after getting over the initial shock of what happened and what might have been, Cody and I have thanked the Lord often that no one and no animal was hurt, and we all know everything damaged can be replaced.  Jason and Dawn are okay, and Jason's house is structurally sound and smoke-free.  Besides, Jason was planning on getting rid of the hot tub, anyway; it just happened much differently than planned. 

House Inspection

Well, today was a long one, in that we had the house inspection completed.  We are relieved that there are not many items that need attention.  We contact the realtor, tomorrow.  Hopefully, it's then on to the closing!  Whew, this process has been relatively easy, but the stress a "change-in-life-status" causes is most annoying!
 

Front of house, which faces north





Northeast corner



Northwest corner



Southwest corner





Back of house, which faces south





Southeast corner



Burnet County's T Lazy T in June

After one fast-paced week, Cody and I needed to go to the ranch, T Lazy T in northern Burnet County, to take care of several things on Cody's to-do list.  This June, like the rest of the year, is seeing some crazy weather, and it is already h-o-t hot, but Live Oaks provide great shade, so we decided we were up for anything.  How dumb could we be?!

We arrived at our wonderful little Zoom RV only to find wasps entered through the electrical plug and built a nest somewhere in the walls of our ranch home.  I read on facebook that TPWD was celebrating pollinators week, last week, and we were supposed to be thankful for all the pollinators that give us the gorgeous wildflowers, etc.  Well, I am grateful for the pollinators, but TPWD's post didn't mean I had to live with the creatures, especially ones that take hospitality for granted.  Wasps sting and that hurts, especially when the zap comes while sleeping soundly.  Yes, we killed 21 wasps before leaving for San Marcos for the day, and upon our return home, four more had died inside the Zoom during our absence.  We hung wasp and yellowjacket traps near the RV and also had an extension cord ready to plug in the vacuum cleaner at a wasps' by-pass.  I personally loved annihilating the creatures with the spray.  One squirt, and they were dead!

Taking a reprieve from the wasp killing, we headed indoors to turn on some a/c and unpack our things, only to find an infestation of Harvester ants.  They were everywhere--on the bed, the floor, crawling up the wall, and we couldn't figure out what they were after.  There were no ants crawling around the dry food goods stored inside; we couldn't see their trail outside, and had no idea where their mound was.  After vacuuming the wasps, we turned the hose onto the ants, sucking up everyone that crawled into the open.  Talk about fighting a losing battle...gee whiz!

Harassed from the insects, we decided to go check the ponds, set out some mineral and sulphur blocks, and feed the catfish.  I brought my 2# fly rod along and Cody brought his .22 rifle.  I like fishing the Catfish pond, and Cody likes to shoot wasps on the water.  We had a great time, and Cody's 4-H marksman skills paid off, because he assassinated many wasps, even decapitating one.  I caught one catfish and one Bluegill the size of a size C battery and that was it.  Usually the cows come chasing us at the Catfish Pond, but not this night.  We even put out a sulphur block for them, but no visitors, not even Curly the Bull, who usually comes to watch us fish.  We packed up our toys, gathered our kindling for supper's campfire, and headed back to camp. 

After a delicious supper (trust me, all meals are better cooked over an open flame and hot coals), Cody put the 4-wheeler in the Cargo Container and locked it up for the evening.  We enjoyed a good supper, a soft breeze, and the stars before bedding down, which meant sucking up another plethora of ants and some wasps that got inside the RV.  Evidently, we did not even come close to getting the ants, because at 3:30 a.m., Cody and I were both hopping out of the bed, slapping ourselves, and doing the I'm-being-bitten-by-ants jig.  We killed the ones biting us, sucked up some more creepy crawlers, and returned to sleeping.

Thursday morning found Cody fussing at me.  Cody retrieved the 4-wheeler from the storage container and wanted to know why I stowed my rod all bird-nested.  Sad story was, I didn't stow my rod that way.  A mouse bird-nested my line for me--chewed it all up.  Fly lines are expensive, and 2# lines aren't easy to come by.  I was taking that rod on Sunday's outing with Kevin Hutchison, and that mouse just ended up on my bad side.  Cody felt bad for me, too.

Thursday's agenda called for a rescue of the Casita.  Near the Hunter's Cabin a couple of year's ago, Cody made a pad and electric and water hookups for another RV.  Cows are curious creatures, and their curiosity got the better of them, but the Casita paid the price.  They chewed the water hose, unplugged the electric line, ate the spare tire cover, demolished the vent (which is about 6' from the ground), ate the solar panel that provided electricity to the crank, and other damage I can not remember.  Cody had parts to repair the Casita, but to keep the cows from damaging things again, we set up an electric fence perimeter for protection.  Before we could get everything finished, one of the cows had her head under the electric wire and was chewing on another piece of the wiring.  Five minutes later, and 3,000 volts would have been quite shocking to her.  It was hot before we broke for lunch, but by that time, the cows had scattered.

After a stint in town for vittles and provisions, we came back to the electric fence, made some upgrades, cordoned it off with pretty pink ribbon, and left to lay traps for the mice, wasps, flies, and ants, and feed cows.  We found a third of the herd, saw some pretty, new calves, counted heads, fed them, and drove around to the tanks.  Tuesday's storm was indeed a blessing.  Two of the ponds, the Hunter's Cabin pond and the Horse Pasture pond now had water in them.  The Catfish pond, while still very low, had been raised about a foot.  The Log Cabin pond held water, too, and the Bass Pond's level was just below the concrete sacks.  All good signs, and the pastures were actually green.  We couldn't believe how healthy everything looked, because things were not that good when we were there in early May.  The cows sure are pretty and slick, now that they have lost their winter coats.  We saw wild turkeys, deer, an owl, and bats at dusk.  When we returned, Cody had captured my fly line disseminator in one of the sticky traps.  After I saw the little fellow, I thought about how cute he was, and the mouse personified stories I'd read--Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh, Ben and Me, and The Tale of Desperaux, but that "cute little furry fellow" also destroyed my fly line and was eating the feed.  Cody killed him with one shot of his .22, but I chose not to look at the "after" scene.  I was glad that we wouldn't have to deal with a mess in the Cargo Container, either.  Rodents are nasty.  We ate lamb chops, Cody star-gazed and we easily saw Saturn, its rings, and a moon in the telescope, and dropped in the bed exhausted, until 4:00 a.m., when the ants launched their 30 minute assault.  Having sucked them up sufficiently, we returned to sleeping soundly until the wasp invasion at 5:15 a.m.

Friday started out rough.  We were tired from being awakened by insects, it was really, really hot, and there was plenty to do.  Our insect bites needed some Benadryl.  We needed propane, gasoline, and diesel from town.  We decided to create a second gate with the electric fence.  The cows devoured the two mineral blocks, so we needed more.  The trees needed cutting and spraying in the corrals, and so did the weeds along the barn's entrance.  One of the gas carriers needed its wheels fixed, and we needed to find the rest of the herd.  The first ant traps we bought weren't worth a flip, so we tried a different kind; however, we began to think the traps attracted even more ants than there would have been if we hadn't set any ant traps at all.  I'm guessing Tordon K-22, the chemical used for small tree killing, is pretty dangerous, but their instructions of how to mix were pretty lousy.  Only spray 2 quarts worth annually, and if you're spraying four times a year, mix 2/3 a fluid ounce per gallon of water; if you're spraying two times a year, mix 3/4 a fluid ounce per quart of water--blah, blah, blah, really confusing.  The Roundup for the grass at the barn--mix 1/3 cup per gallon of water--bam, straight-forward, easy-to-follow directions.  Deciphering the Tordon K-22 instructions took a good part of the afternoon.  We hosed off pretty good after playing with chemicals, and went to find the rest of the cow herd.  We drove all over the place, and finally found them, and by the time all the head-counting was finished, there were 14 new calves, one was just days old and still wobbly legged, but pretty.  I guess I expected the cows to look thinner and shabbier since we've been so long without rain, but they were just the opposite, thank goodness.  Cows fed, more mineral and sulphur blocks set out, firewood gathered, it was time for Cody to grill some T-Bone steaks and watermelon (the cows ate the left-over watermelon with as much zest as we did, surprisingly enough).  It may be hot and we do a lot of manual labor, but when it comes to supper, the day is all worth it.  Food just tastes better over an open, wood-burning flame.

Again exhausted, we could not sleep all through the night, thanks once-again to the ants.  They woke us up two different times biting the hide off of us, but we were tired and went back to sleep both times.  Saturday's clouds and breeze were a nice respite to Friday's sizzling heat.  We repaired holes in the fence, showered and headed off to Austin, San Marcos, and New Braunfels.  We were fishing with Kevin Hutchison on Sunday, so we were spending Saturday evening in San Marcos.  We ran all our errands and visited many of Cody's old haunts from his college days at Southwest Texas State--go Kittypaws!  This weekend was a happenin' place in San Marcos, so the hotel room scramble was on.  We did eventually get a non-smoking, a/c working room at the Summit Inn, and we slept without being bitten.

Sunday was great, and upon our return to the ranch that evening, four wasps had invaded the Zoom.  One was dead in the window sill and being devoured by about a hundred ants.  One was dead on the floor, and the ants had munched on it until it was in three different, dissected parts, and two had made their way in to Cody's empty but opened Coke bottle.  After all, it was a Mexican Coke made with the real Coke recipe and real sugar, so they can't be blamed for wanting that sweet goodness that is Coke.  They died later, outside, stuck in the bottle.  I sucked up ants for an hour, and we collapsed in the bed, only to be molested by a herd of ants at 3:15 and again at 5:15--that was it.  I was ready to come home.  The insects won, but not before we got some work done.

I love the warm weather and high heat doesn't get me down, but a good, one-day freeze in the middle of summer wouldn't bother me this time, especially knowing it would kill a bunch of insects.  With as crazy as this year's weather has been, who knows, it may just happen, and for once, I would be gleeful, knowing those pests had the tables turned on them!



7 Days Makes One Weak!

Whew!  What a week.  I don't think I have ever had one week like this one that just passed.  In addition to celebrating Father's Day, we now have a plethora of Geminis in our family--two nieces, Cody, and I all celebrate June birthdays.  Mid-June also finds me winding down at work and getting ready for summer vacation.

We decided that we just couldn't make it as a one-car family.  As a result, we spent Friday a-week-ago looking at cars, test driving, talking with salesman, visiting different dealers, and reading and comparing and Internet searching dealer inventories.  Consumer Reports was a big help, especially in the side-by-side comparisons, of which there were many.  Ultimately, I decided upon the 2011 Ford Escape Hybrid.  I originally chose this car in Lime Squeeze Metallic; uh, there aren't any in this state or any of its neighbors.  Then, I decided on the Steel Blue model, of which there were three in the Metroplex, all at Westway Ford.  If you like slick-talking, tell-you-whatever-line-of-malarky-will-get-you-to-buy-a-car, see their Internet manager, Nick.  Then, in another gazillonth Internet search, I found a model with most of the bells and whistles, but it was only available

6/30/11 MPG's meet the window sticker!

in white; I've never owned a white vehicle.  I liked the dealership, the car salesman, and I loved the car.  It runs smoothly, and it gets 30 mpg.  It has been forever since I owned a car that had a gas mileage above 20 mpg.  This car talks to me, lets me actually plug in an 110V appliance inside the car, charges the battery when I hit the brakes, and has pretty inside lights at night, not to mention that it functions well, like a car.

This Friday found us looking at houses.  Completely unplanned and unexpected, but truly a gift that fell into our laps, well, actually our young next-door neighbor told me about it, but .5 mile from our current home, we were looking at our dreamhouse, which has a pool and sits on 2 acres. Contract signing day is on Thursday 30 June 2011, and then it's time to box everything up.

I can honestly the last seven days have truly been a whirlwind of a week, but what fun it has been planning everything out and driving a new car--ahhh, that smell is fantastic!

Stationery card

View the entire collection of cards.

Goodbyes & Hellos

1st Day I owned Goldie

Cody and I have spent the last week attempting to revert to a 1940s and 50s concept--being a one-car family, and it was very difficult.  Why this retro trip?  Well, I am having to say goodbye to my beloved car, because its engine block cracked.  Nine days ago, neither Cody nor I planned on looking for or buying a new car; after all, Cody just bought The Commander in March.

My nephew loves Goldie

When I buy a car, I buy it for it's character, it's "fun" capability, and whether or not I think I can get 200,000 miles from it.  I do lots of research before I purchase a car, because for some reason, I become attached dearly to my cars.  My current car was not exempted from my "love affair," either.

Iced on the Devils River

Goldie has taken me everywhere I wanted to go--Montana, Devil's River, Brownsville, driving along beaches, trekking the ranch roads, various-and-sundry fishing holes, camping, and even the mundane trips running errands and back-and-forth to work.  What happened to Goldie?  Rewind to September 2007.

Our school pays for our flu shots, but we have to go all the way in to our office to receive the shot, so on Tuesday 11 September 2007 at 6 a.m., I drove to Fairfield.  About half-way through the day, I really began to feel poorly, but I had a hair appointment after school, needed to go to the bank to get my passport from the safety deposit box, and go out to eat with my friend Janna, who had a hair appointment after me.  (I was flying to Brownsville on Friday and the potential to cross the border into Matamoras was great.)  I had been at Dawson and was on my way to Waxahachie when a very, very slow vehicle was in front of me.  I legally passed the car and continued on the back roads north.  I stayed longer at Dawson than planned, but traveling the speed limit, I would make my hair appointment but just on time.  Again, I came upon a very slow-traveling car, which I also legally passed.  Yes, I was going to be right on time for my appointment.  I continued heading north and feeling lousier as the day elapsed.  While driving the back road, I sneezed a very nasty, bloody sneeze all over the place.  I looked down, took my hands off the steering wheel, and continued pressing the gas pedal.  Everything was a mess, and I was trying to clean things up, when a sudden jolt and then the feeling of flying grabbed my attention.  I let off the gas, grabbed the steering wheel, landed but jolted and went airborne--again.  Yes, I had veered off the road and accidentally jumped two driveways connecting to the road. 

Goldie appeared to have no damage, no broken hoses, parts, nothing leaking, no tire punctures, no broken axles, but Goldie was looking quite off-kilter on level pavement.  I pulled on to a side road, phoned my Dad, and explained that I was alright and unhurt and what happened.  Dad had me crawl all over the car, checking everything.  Once satisfied the Rover wouldn't explode while I was driving it, he said to go on to the hair appointment, and he would meet me there. 

Goldie's new tires

Obviously, I was very late for the hair appointment, but Janna just switched times with me.  However, this meant I wasn't getting in to the bank, and the way the rest of my week's schedule was going, this was the only day I could get to the bank in time, so I was additionally frustrated about what to do.  Dad, and everyone else in the salon, looked Goldie over, and all agreed it was a-leaning.  I was bummed, feeling more rotten, and Janna and I decided to cancel our dinner plans.  After I left the beauty shop, I headed to the Race-Trac to get gas, but I couldn't get in, because the police had that blocked off.  In fact, a huge perimeter had been established and blocked off, and there were lots of on-lookers just hanging around, as well as news helicopters and a police helicopter flying overhead.  When I asked what was happening, I was told the bank, my Wells Fargo bank, was being robbed and there were hostages.  Then, a policeman came over and told us to back up because the robbers were armed and threatening to shoot.  I asked him when the robbery started, and he said the robbers entered at 5:30.  Had my day gone like I planned, I would have been in the bank at the time the robbery started, so I believe that the accident was the Lord's way that kept me out of the bank, especially since I ignored the previously two slow drivers.

Almost always carried a fly rod

Keeping me out of the robbery was costly.  The frame was bent slightly, and the axles and housings were very bent and damaged and had to be replaced.  The insurance adjuster came to the auto shop and caught the bend in the frame, so off to the framers it went.  The car was gone a month, and it was repaired to the best of every one's ability, but the adjuster should have totaled it.  Never being able to completely align the car correctly, regardless of how well the tires were rotated, we bought two sets of tires between '07 and now.  Goldie is garage kept, but the dash popped out of joint one day when I hit a small pothole in the road.  When Cody washes Goldie, water leaks through the driver's door, and two costly repairs within the last six months finally revealed the true problem--a crack in the block's 4th cylinder.

Since my last day of school is Monday, Cody thought a good remedy for the car problem was to revive the Honda.  After an all-day of repairs, the motorcycle has to have its crankcase repaired, but it does look good, and it sounded smoothly, too.  Cody got it all washed and cleaned and will take it to the shop next week.  So, as I bid goodbye to my dear, dear 2004 Aztec Gold Land Rover Discovery II that has been everywhere my heart's desired, Cody says hello to his 1986 Honda Shadow 500.  Hmmm...new adventures?!

Barbados 2011

Cody decided to go home for Memorial Day and the annual Barbados festival.  I had always heard about Barbados but had never been until this year.  We started out by entering Saturday's 5K; now most everyone was running, but us.  Cody and I, we walked the 5K, and as a result, I got a nice tour of downtown Rankin, TX, Saaaa-lute!  We finished and we weren't last, just second-to-last.  It was fun and good exercise.  Now, Cody's sister and her family were really good runners.  Kristi placed 2nd in her division; Allison was 3rd in the 11-19 year old division, and Denson placed 2nd in his division.  We cheered and hollered when they received their medals.

We spent the day walking around sampling the food, viewing the wares, relaxing at home during the afternoon--it did reach 106˚ Saturday for most of the day.  When we returned, we came back for the Mutton Bustin', Bull Riding, and Steer Riding events.  Those little guys doing the Mutton Bustin' are decked out head to toe--boots, jeans, and chaps, long-sleeve shirts, chest protector, and helmet.  Some of the sheep, most had not been sheared, yet, did not want to cooperate, only taking four steps outside the chute and stopping.  Some sheep headed for the shade, with the kids hanging on for all they're worth, and others, bless their heart, landed face first in the dirt.

After the Mutton Bustin', came the Bull Riding Round 1.  Well, the crowd threw their support behind the boys, especially those Rankin boys, but no one could even come close to riding a round; instead, about four seconds was long as they could last. 

Separating the Bull Riding rounds was the Steer Riding.  This event was new to me, but it was fun to see, especially since two of the groups had kids doing the riding.  The steers are in the chutes already roped.  The announcer gave the call to open the chutes, and the fun began.  Two men were responsible for wrestling the steer, and a third was responsible for getting the saddle on the steer.  Once saddled, one of the partners had to ride the steer out of the arena.

After the Steer Riding was Bull Riding Round 2.  This round saw some good action.  Two of the riders rode 7.5 and 7.85 seconds and two riders rode a round.  Fine, fun business.  The second place rider received a 70 because his bull didn't buck much, and so he was offered a re-ride, which he took.  Unfortunately, he only rode 6 seconds, but because he had completed a round, he did get the opportunity to ride the $1,000 bull.  The 1st place winner also rode the $1,000 bull and won that prize money, too. 

There was another Steer Riding event after the bulls, but this time someone got hurt and eventually was careflighted to San Angelo.  There were no kids in that round, just grown men being hauled around the arena like little rag dolls.  The rodeo clowns were great and presented some good acts.

After all the rodeo events it was time to announce the meat cooking winners.  The Barbados (goat) had been supplied to all 40 entrants, but the brisket, ribs, spam, and chicken were brought in by the contestants.  In addition to the cooking, showmanship awards were also given.  After the judges bestowed the honors, it was time for the Hogg Maulies to start the evening's dancing.  We sat around enjoying Kristi and Allison's company.  Poor Denson was having to help guide traffic for the two careflights, and then go to northern Upton Co. to help put out a grassfire. 

Sunday's festivities started off with the 4-wheeler Rodeo.  Now, Allison texted us about the event, but Cody had already left Dallas, so I picked up his helmet before boarding the plane for Midland, so we were good to go.  When we got to Barbados on Saturday, we discovered the event entry was $100 with the only payout going to 1st place.  Since we didn't know what all we had to do, Cody decided we wouldn't enter the event, but it was fun to watch!  Contestants zig-zagged through poles, did solo barrel racing, did partner barrel racing where they had to snag a flag, and then they did the sled-pull barrel racing.  Some serious competition, but there were only three teams this year.

It was almost 2:00, which was the turn-in time for the ice cream.  Kristi had her two batches and let Cody and I taste test.  Kristi makes great ice cream, and I just love sampling her ice cream.  After Kristi returned from submitting her ice cream, we then got to sample the salsa.  Allison used us as guinea pig.  Now, typically, I pass on salsa, but this was the best salsa I had ever eaten--hands down, and we eat at a lot of Mexican restaurants sampling salsa.  Kristi submitted beans at 6:00, too.  Cody and I came back a little before 7:00 to hear what Kristi and Allison won.  They announced the beans first, and Kristi didn't place.  Then, ice cream winners were announced, and Kristi didn't place there, either.  Regardless, Kristi's ice cream will always be 1st place in my book.  Bread and chili winners were announced next, and then, it was salsa time.  Allison sat next to us so she could hear.  We were waiting to hear ticket no. 510293 announced.  3rd place wasn't even close to our number and neither was 2nd place.  Then, they called 5102 pause 9 pause 3!  We whooped and hollered, and Allison ran up to the announcers and handed in her stub.  Cody went up to take Allison's picture with her 1st place check and plaque, and I got a big hug from Allison.  It was a lot of fun seeing all the different festivities and activities and had me thinking about entering bread in a future Barbados.  Afterall, Celeste won 1st place for her beans one year, so I guess I have to help hold up the family reputation of being winners!

Paradigms

One of the books I'm currently reading is about paradigm shifts, and the author relates some good and funny anecdotes about creating those shifts and perspectives.  So here is a paradigm..."Happy Birthday is a Victory Song."  Never thought about "Happy Birthday to you" quite like that before now.  Being a cancer survivor, I do understand it, and birthdays are a really big celebration in my family, which is always fun.  A second paradigm:  Wow, there are a lot of people in purple shirts, or oh my, there are a lot of people in purple shirts.  That one is a tough one that I argue inside my head and can't really rectify.  On one hand, a lot of people fought courageously and won; on the other hand, a lot of people have had to fight cancer.  Which perspective is better?  I do not know, other than there are survivors out there, so excellent job purple-shirt wearers!


Dad, Me, Mom

 This year I was invited by the team, Bowie Queen Bees, representing my Mom's school to be one of their Survivor walkers in their town's Relay for Life event.  It was my first Relay for Life, and I enjoyed everything but the incredibly high winds.  Each town hosts its own Relay, but people all around turn out and support the American Cancer Society's efforts at ending a dreadful disease.  My Mom, Dad, and Husband showed up for the event, too.  Most of the people there who I knew, I knew before I had cancer, and some I met after winning my battle, and I often wonder what other cancer survivors think.  I think I would have been a guardian angel to my niece and nephew, both under 16 years of age, but I don't think I would have ever known my husband, had I not lived.  It has been 16 years since my battle with breast cancer, and I don't regret one moment of treatment, one dime spent, one physical alteration (one in particular is that where my hair was completely straight before cancer treatments, it is now curly), because my life has truly been a second-time gift from God living a wonderfully grand life filled with a loving family and great friends.  At one time not long after remission, I did live like there was no tomorrow; however, with the passage of time, I think that perception changes.  At least, I know it has for me.  I live planning for the tomorrow's, but there are many roses I stop to smell along my way, and it is a great balance between the here-and-now and further down the road.

Unfortunately, I can call muster for this dreadful disease, and for those before me and those since, I wish fervently that the list ends here.  This purple shirt is for you, too. 

William Beauford Hopson, Jr., my paternal grandfather, lung cancer, 1968.
Hugh DeNise Hollis, my maternal grandfather, liver cancer, 1985.
Martha Trotsel, my aunt's friend and college classmate's Mom, breast cancer, 2004.
Kennedy Elizabeth Smith, two former students' toddler daughter, blastoma, 2006.
Norman Ray Goheen, Jr., my friend and rod-building teacher, brain cancer, 2009.
Al Crise, fly fishing mentor, brain cancer, 2010.

Rule of Thumb is Golden

Traditional:  Gold; Contemporary:  Gold; Color:  Gold; Flower:  Violet

Pop, Diddy, Dad, Mom, Jane, Grandaddy, Mamaw

...and so the celebrations go for the 50th wedding anniversary.  In our family, it is the rule of thumb to be married for 50 years.  My maternal grandparents, Mamaw & Grandaddy, were married for more than 50 years lasting until Grandaddy's death in 1985.  My paternal grandparents, Diddy & Pop, would have been married for 50 years, but my grandfather died in 1968.  At the time of his death, Diddy and Pop had been married 37 years.  My Dad is an only child, but my Mom is the youngest of three siblings.  Mom's older sister, Jane, married Bill on 4 December 1954 and are nearing their 60th anniversary.  Their older brother has also been married for more than 50 years.  Today, Mom and Dad celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary, too.  Grandaddy told Mom she could not get married until she was 21, so Mom married one week to-the-day after her 21st birthday.  Daddy had proposed on their second date, but Mom laughed in his face.  However, the wedding occurred six months after their first date.

We celebrated their 50th anniversary having brunch at the Hotel Intercontinental.  My aunt and uncle, cousin, brother, sister-in-law, niece, nephew, and husband enjoyed honoring my parents whose marriage has produced my brother and me and two grandchildren.    My brother and sister-in-law are on the road to 50 years having been married 15 years.  I have only been married six months and the bar has been set high, but with a wonderful husband and great health, we hope to reach our 50th anniversary at 94 and 101!

I love you Mom and Dad!

Weather's Personalities

The National Weather Service's first issued forecast occurred on 1 November 1870, forecasting windy weather for Chicago, Illinois.  In 1871, the first public weather forecast was issued.  Historians consider John Jeffries one of America's first meteorologists.  Born 5 February 1744, Jeffries was a Boston physician who kept detailed records of weather conditions.  Thus began America's interest with weather.

I read Erik Larson's Issac's Storm a few years ago which details Issac Cline, Texas' chief weatherman in 1900, and the 1900 Galveston Hurricane.  I originally chose the book because of the Bolivar Lighthouse's and keeper Harry C. Claiborne's roles in the 1900 Galveston Hurricane.  I learned many new historical events, but what seemed to keep my attention most, was the way the people reacted to the initial storm.  People enjoyed the warm weather and went in to the water to swim and surf.  Cline measured and timed the swells, and initially offered no warnings to the people.  When the danger warnings went out, with wanton hubris, many ignored them.  Over 8,000 people died in the storm.

Last year, I read the book Halsey's Typhoon by Bob Drury and Tom Clavin.  In heartrending detail the book outlines the damage, destruction, and heroic survival of the US Navy's 3rd Fleet in December 1944 in the Philippine Sea.  The detail that sticks with me most is the high probability that two fishermen witnessed the birth of Typhoon Cobra.  They observed the very mild winds that kicked up from the sea that would form the typhoon.  That fact is jaw-dropping and leaves me in total awe.

We all have watched weather forecasts and observed those blue lines with triangles indicating cold fronts and their directional movement and red lines with bubbles indicating warm fronts and their directional movements.  Technology vastly improved forecasting so that forecasters can accurately estimate a front's or storm's arrival.  So, what is it like to be present at the beginning of a weather event?  I never thought about it beyond the Issac's Storm and Halsey's Typhoon events, until today.

I have a beautiful Red-flowering Dogwood Tree.  I thought it would be slow growing and stay relatively small.  I was wrong.  Originally, I planted it in a small bed near the porch and side-door entrance.  The tree grew really fast and branched out so much so, that when people walked in and out of the house, the Dogwood attacked them.  The Texas heat is not kind or forgiving to plants, shrubbery, and trees.  Last year, I observed daily the location on the east side of the house that received the least amount of summer sun so the tree could be replanted in predominant summer shade.  

Enjoying the 70 degree temperatures, calm winds, and warmth, Saturday, Cody and I dug the hole for the tree.  Today, Cody and I relocated the tree.  We knew that an Arctic Polar blast is headed our way bringing the coldest temperatures of the year and precipitation on Tuesday and Wednesday.  We figured this was the best time to re-plant, hopefully ensuring the tree's survival.  As we began to fill the hole, we both stopped work.  Not smell, not sight, not feel, but instead, we heard the cold front's arrival.  It was very strange that we heard it, before we felt it.  Winds about 30 feet above the ground changed, and that is what we heard.  The winds blew from the south until the change; then, there was a hard push from the east, as next indicated by the flags blowing and the feel of the winds on our bodies.  The air was still very warm.  About two minutes later, the winds blew from the north, northwest and were noticeably cooler.  We were still filling in the hole, but temperatures cooled, then stabilized for about 20 minutes, and then continued to drop.  Unfortunately, the sun's warmth and blue sky are gone, and calm, but very cool winds doth blow.  I wonder what I will remember of the storm's beginning as the harsh weather conditions descend upon us this week?

Tough Enough to Wear Pink

I love rodeos; I'm not sure why, but I really love rodeos, so it was off to Fort Worth for the Susan G. Komen night where the Rodeo goes Pink!  Panhandle Slim sponsors the clothing, and so all workers and most of the participants wear pink.  Several years previously, I tried in vain to buy the official shirt, but much to my chagrin, the shirt is not available to the public, even breast cancer survivors.  Last year's shirt was a brighter/darker pink, and this year, a pretty, pale pink.

This was the fifth annual event and our fourth trip, well, third trip.  We had tickets in 2009, but the snowstorm kept us home that evening.  In 2008 Cody had just returned from the ranch, and I asked Cody out to this rodeo--our first big date.  Our friends Julie and Steve decided to join us this year, and yes, we all wore pink.  We ate cotton candy, popcorn, hotdogs, and corny dogs.  Steve, a true, all-American cowboy himself, recognized many participants, as well as other spectators.  Julie has even been to the rodeo in Vegas.  I know, because I picked her up at the airport, the only thing was, their plane was delayed, so I spent part of the night in the airport.  Poor girl, Jules' plane arrived sometime around 4:45 a.m.  We're wiser now, so we just stay out a little late for the arena festival.

Shawn Brackett

Steve knows the man who trains Whiplash, the Rodeo Monkey.  Julie loves Whiplash, but unfortunately, Whiplash was not at this year's or last year's rodeo.  In addition to the typical rodeo events, we were entertained with the 4-H/FFA Calf Scramble, Weatherford's Anthony Lucia-Mr. Versatility trick roping, Shawn Brackett-The Sensational Shawn driving his horses while standing on their backs, and the Canadian Chuck Wagon Races--vicious, aggressive drivers.

I don't know what rodeo event I like best.  I do cheer for the calves in the tie-down roping, and I think the bull-riders are crazy.  I really like watching the girls maneuver their horses around the barrels and the team roping.  The only clowns I like are the rodeo clowns for the bull riders, and they always put on a good show and take swell care of the riders.  Rodeos are just two hours of good, clean fun, whether they are the professional rodeos like Fort Worth, Houston, or San Antonio, or the small shows along America's by-ways, like the Drummond, MT rodeo. 

One late-spring night in the early 1990s, I didn't have anything pressing to do, so I drove to Red Oak, TX, and on Pratt Road is a small arena.  Being out in the country, especially then, the lights can be seen for many miles.  Nearing midnight, the events had not even begun to wind down.  About this time, this very fancy truck with fancy matching horse trailer pulls up.  A nice-looking cowboy gets out and talks with a few folks looking for a team roping partner.  The cowboy found a partner, and while that cowboy couldn't rope worth a flip, the crowd loved him, because that cowboy was the George Strait.  As I understand it, George is a much better roper today than then.

I guess one of the best things about the Ft. Worth rodeo is that the event graciously honors breast-cancer survivors, and sharing that time with a good friend is always fun.  Julie and I had been fast friends in the late 1980s and early 90s, but unfortunately, geography defined our friendship the last decade.  Choosing not to let where we live dictate when and where we spend time is a great decision, and our friendship has picked up where we left off, as if 10 years had not elapsed.  Had I not won my breast cancer battle, I would have never known two of the three people sitting with me last night.  I don't know if other survivors have that recurring thought, but my post-cancer experiences, joys, adventures, and friends happily remind me that I would have not known this without a good fight, and being honored for that fight feels good.  Here's to many more Susan G. Komen nights at the rodeo with Cody, the man of my dreams, and great friends!