Am so grateful for all in my life:  health, wealth, abundance....  friends, both face-to-face and cyberspace; my family: the wonderful man I married,

my firstborn son whom I called my "pride and joy" and he is that indeed, the little boy I adopted who has stretched my parenting skills to the limit and beyond; thankful for re-connecting with my siblings; thankful that my father retired and came to live in our casita so that I could spend time visiting with him;  thankful to my mother for proving that some things remain the same.  

 

Am thankful that I have overcome my fear of dogs since I adopted that wee puppy who has grown to 50 plus pounds of joyful exuberance.  To Pug Buddy who was our first dog and thus opened the door for the dogs that followed:  Beau and Chihuahua Princess.   Princess you are indeed a queen of the dogs. 

 

Am also thankful that we don't have company coming for Thanksgiving because my house is a mess.  Instead of tidying up, I have been doing other stuff!

Had breakfast out with hubby and son-still-at-home, D.  Came home and fed the pets.  Commented to said son that it looked like a good day to mow.  Commented to doggies while fixing their breakfast, "is Bubba outside mowing?"  nah -uh

 

So, I took the weed eater and started on the back yard which is tiny and mostly patio, stepping stones, and potted plants.  It is going on three weeks since said son took the weed eater to the back yard and two weeks since the front yard was mowed.  D does an excellent job....when he gets round to it.

 

I had finished as much as I was going to do because my upper arms were screaming at me to stop, when said son came out holding his cell phone.  "The weather forecast says it isn't going to rain this morning so I am going to mow. When you finish with that, I will get started on the front yard."  I indicated to him that I was done because my arms had given out and that I had already cleaned the weed eater.

 

It is a perfect morning for yard work today.  Overcast, breezy and cool.  Temperature is in the mid-70s.  Lovely.

 

*yawn*  nap time

So, I spent last week in little town gateway to the Hill Country of Texas, or once was known as the Honey Capital of the World.  I think now it is Shade Tree Capital for all its huge Live Oaks.  anyways...  took care of my father who was suffering from a sinus infection (wouldn't go see the doc) and left him feeling much better on Sunday.  Daddy will be 85 on the 25th and is not on any meds, so when he gets to not feeling as usual, we all worry.  Dad just shrugs it off as part of old age. 

 

He gets foggy brained and forgetful..... but, then so do I and I am nowhere near 80!  It took me a good half hour or so to find where I had laid the book I am currently reading.  Guess where it was?  yep, right next to this keyboard!

 

I am reading a book that caught my eye at the local library: The Covenant by Naomi Ragen.  It takes place in "terror-torn Jerusalem" when a father and his five year old daughter are taken by a branch of Hamas.  His bed ridden pregnant wife is the daughter of one of four Holocaust survivors who took an oath.  "....  All seems lost until a phone call to her grandmother in America unexpectedly revives a decades-old oath, creating a force that transcends time and place, to rescue her loved ones."  One of the women lives in Poland and sends her grandson, posing as a freelance videographer, to Jerusalem.  Another has a granddaughter married to a Saudi, member of the royal family.  The fourth woman has an exclusive club in Paris and ...   Fascinating story.  I love the way it is unfolding

 

Lunch time calls.

I wanted to rant and rave in this blog, but by the time I got down to writing...  the anger dissolved.  I am feeling torn.  My father, who is going on 84, was on my mind all weekend.  This morning when I called, he sounded groggy.  My sister was visiting him and she told me that he is congested and is walking a bit unsteady.  Daddy told me that he forgot to turn on the coffee pot and that he fell asleep in his chair while waiting for the coffee.  Poor Daddy.  I have a sister and three brothers who live in the same town as Dad, but ......   You know how it is; too busy.  Two of the brothers work nights so, yes, it is difficult to spend time with Dad during the day.  One of them stops by on his way home from work, unless he has to be at home right quick.  The other one stops by on his day (night) off.  The youngest of the three is the most volatile one and thus, undependable.  Yes, he visits with Dad daily and so does his wife...  unless....    My sister (and husband and 14 yr old son) is currently living with our mother after having to sell their house.  There is a plus to that in that she cooks and cleans for mother and is there at night.  The negative is that mother gets tired of having them around all of the time and becomes ugly to her daughter.

 

Last year and the year before I spent weeks with my father.  Now, with Beau, it is more difficult. The yard is not fenced and Beau, at 50 lbs, thinks he is still a puppy.  It was difficult then when my siblings would give me their unsolicited criticism, but I could deal with it.  When it became too much to bear, or I didn't want to hear anymore, I would head to the hills: to Garner State Park  or just drive in the hill country.  Or, head back home.

 

Now, I have 25 year old son at home.  He is waiting for the Coast Guard to say "you are enlisted and this is your ship out date"  or, whatever they say in the military.  Supposedly, he has passed all the tests.  In the meantime, he needs to be working.  He worked at McDonalds for about 5 months until he was "taken off the schedule".  He finally managed to snag an interview with Sears and is waiting to hear a "yes, you are hired and this is when you come for orientation".  He has no car (or rather his car is in a storage place in Austin) and yes, we have a city bus system which he can take.   I would like to be home to see him out the door to his job, if you get my meaning.

 

*sigh*   I will call my father later to see how he is sounding.  Maybe I will be able to head his way on Wednesday.   We (hubby and I) were going to go see him this weekend, but I wanted to be sure hubby got over his sinus infection and got plenty of rest this weekend.

 

 

No calls came in for the found kitten so we are keeping her.  She is so cute and funny.  Our two adult cats are 15 years old and I had forgotten how funny kittens are.  This one, whom we have named "Kit Kat" is so daring.  She jumps and leaps and has very sharp, tiny claws.  Did I mention she loves to bite toes?  When we are in bed, we have to be so still or she will pounce on our toes!  She loves to climb up pant legs.  Unfortunately she climbed up my hubby's legs....  when he was wearing shorts!

 

She went to the vet again this past Saturday....  for her shots.  She has gained a few ounces/

I say "daring" because it was on a busy street in a 50 mph zone and we have never done anything like this before.  As we get older, we get more adventuresome or crazy.

 

At first we thought it was a sheet of paper blowing across the lanes of traffic, but the next instant we both said "it's a cat!"   Hubby started slowing down and I unbuckled my seat belt.  The instant the car came to a stop, I opened the door, got out, and scooped up a tiny kitten crouching at the curb.

 

Pink collar with white polka dots and green striping on the edges at her neck;  white tabby with calico markings of orange and almost black; brownish eyes which have become more topaz.   I have called the local Lost Pets hotline, checked the classifieds online and in print, and visited both Petsmart and Petco (twice) and scanned their message boards.  We drove the neighborhoods looking for posters, and asked one couple we saw sitting outside their house.

 

I have scheduled an appointment with our vet to have her checked out because she was bleeding from her rectum.  She is eating well, drinking, p 'n p 'ing, and very playful.  She was howling up a storm at 4 this morning.  Hubby actually got up and played with her!  He gave her food and water, but she wasn't interested; she wanted to play is what he related to me at breakfast this morning.

 

I have her crated, (fairly large crate with 2 levels) letting her out only when I am there with her.  Bart, the Siamese mix is getting along with her.  Prissy Peaches, the calico, is not.  Pug Buddy and Chihuahua Princess are fascinated.  Big, beautiful mutt Beau would love to play with her, but let's not go there.

 

If we don't find her family, looks like she will be staying with us. 

Yee ha!!  it is finally raining here in this sparkling city by the bay.  It started with a shower or two on Tuesday and off and on all day yesterday and woke up to rain this Thursday morning.  Of course, this morning, the doggies refused to go outside and they left me a puddle by the front door even though I had laid newspaper by the back door.  Thankfully, I have tiled floors in the living areas.

 

It is clear now ... big, fluffy white clouds, but more rain is in the forecast.  Hopefully the rainwater will soak in before the next showers arrive.  Of course, this also means mosquitos will be around again;  a new, fresh crop of blood thirsty skeeters!

My husband is addicted to breakfast taquitos.  If he doesn't get to eat his breakfast taquitos at Taqueria Jalisco every morning, he gets grumpy.

When the g-nieces were visiting, I suggested a visit to the beach early, before breakfast.  He agreed.  As we four were strolling along, avoiding the lumps of tar and keeping an eye open for jellies, I noticed hubby getting jumpy.  He became less and less communicative and even made a snarly comment.  I wondered what was bothering him.  Then, it hit me:  no breakfast taquito!!   So, I whispered to the g-nieces, "Uncle Al needs his breakfast taquitos, so we need to go."

 

One weekend morning, on the way with him to the taqueria, I wistfully commented that I had not had a bagel in ages.  No reply from him.  If he even heard me, he was probably thinking that I could take myself to the bagel shop any time I wanted. 

 

When we are at our casita I used to fix breakfast but lately just nod to him when he says, "I think I'll go get us some taquitos".  On the weekend, I could easily make up some scrambled eggs with store-bought tortillas, but nope..not the same. As a matter of fact, before we moved back to TX, he used to fix breakfast at home on the weekend!

 

*sigh*  yes, my husband is addicted to taquitos....  breakfast every morning at Taqueria Jalisco for his "fix".

 

What is my addiction?  reading...  reading... reading... 

Husband took two days off from work..  which turned out to be only a day and a half ...  so we made a long weekend trip away.  We stopped Thursday night to visit with our son;  took him out to dinner at a mall I had been wanting to visit.  Loved the huge Barnes and Noble store and wished we had more time to really browse there.  On our way to the car, the rain started.  Woo hoo!  It was lovely, but made driving tricky.

 

We took the doggies out for their evening constitutional and got soaked ....  my hair was dripping and little Chi Bella was shivering and looking at me with her huge eyes nearly popping out of her head!  Thankfully son has a garage with a side door to the yard and that is where we dried off all three dogs.  Beau, our bodacious 45 lb mutt, loved the rain and running in Bubba's big yard.  Pug Buddy wanted back indoors fast and would not budge from under the pic nic table. 

 

It was wonderful to experience so much rain.  It has barely rained this summer in this sparkling little city by the sea we call home.  Because it was raining so hard, we hesitated making the 70 plus mile drive to our casita .   Son invited us to spend the night...  dogs and all.  Said son really doesn't like my sweet Beau who thinks he is a cute, lap dog whom everyone adores. 

 

Friday morning we were up early at 6:30 or was it 6? walked the doggies and took son to breakfast.  My husband loves Mexican breakfast taquitos and when he doesn't have his taquito, he gets grumpy.  Egg and bacon on a "homemade" corn tortilla and lots of iced tea is hubby's breakfast of choice.  I swear he drove 10 miles to a little restaurant he had found on previous trips when he was helping son get his house ready for the move-in.

 

By 9:30 we were on the road to our next stop.   My daddy lives in our casita and its wonderful to spend time visiting with him; to fix him meals and just knowing that he is well.  Daddy worked as a cemetery caretaker and at 82 was not ready to retire, but two and a half years ago he was finally convinced he should after a particularly bad bout with the flu.  It took him nearly two years to adjust to not only not working but also living in a different house on the opposite end of town.  The town is about 3 or 4  miles long.  His bank and supermarket are within walking distance and the little corner market is just down the street.  He can easily walk there for his Bud and twice weekly newspaper.

 

My niece and her daughters spent time with us.  We took the three g-nieces to McDonalds a couple of times.  Even the 2 and a half year old  asks me on the phone when I am coming to Mempo's and taking her to McDonalds.  The two youngest wanted to spend the night Friday and Saturday, but niece is not ready to allow her baby to spend the night.

 

Saturday morning, early, we loaded up the dogs and drove to Garner Park where Beau had so much fun retrieving and swimming in the Frio.  Chi Bella nosed at the edge and Pug Buddy stayed as far as he could from the river's edge.  We had had a short shower Friday night so the morning was cooler.  Lovely.

 

As we approached our lovely little city by the bay last night, we saw lightening in the far distance.  Beautiful!   Could it be raining?  Would it rain in our neighborhood?  Twenty miles from our house, it started raining, lessening the closer we got to home.  Only big fat scattered drops were falling as we pulled into our driveway.  Finished unloading just in time.  It rained enough to water my plants and lawn.  Hoorah!

 

Nap time. 

A FB friend posted a photo of his elementary class and I commented "ah the lovely days of segregation ...." 

 

When I started first grade in the little old town of Brackettville TX,  the year was 1959.  There were two first grade classrooms at Jones Elementary.  One was all white/Caucasian children and the other was all brown/Mexican/half-Mexican.  The children who were colored/African American had their own school.  Yes, even though I was only seven years old (my birthday is after September 1st and I was not allowed to start school until the next year)  I noticed this difference.  I told my parents about it and asked why.  I think there answer was "that is just the way it is".

 

I remember later that year, a drawing was held and I won.  I wanted the brand new doll in its box.  I was told "no" and the school secretary had to come and talk to me in Spanish (as if I didn't understand English) that I had to take the used doll, with one eye half-closed.

 

I remember playing on the merry-go-round after school one day when report cards were given out.  A girl from the other first grade class wanted to see my report card.  I remember she got angry when she saw my grades and said something that puzzled me and I told my parents about it.  I remember them looking at each other, sighing, and giving me some none answer.

 

That summer we moved to Uvalde where my mother's family lived.  We walked to downtown to shop and on the way home wanted to go inside a tiny little shack that sold ice cream, cokes and snacks.  We were not allowed to go inside, but had to order at the window.  Even at that age, I didn't want to buy from them after they would not let us inside.

 

I was considered an odd child.  I remember my mother whispering about me with her sisters.

 

I remember not being selected to participate in the town wide spelling bee although I was always the last person to miss a word in the class.  I was told the girl selected had the better handwriting.  Yes, she did.  I wondered what that had to do with being able to spell.  That was in fourth grade.

 

In 5th grade all the town's elementary schools came together under one roof.  About half my former classmates were no longer in my class, but  we met at recess and lunch.  I remember being pretty much friendless in 6th grade, but don't remember why.   Oh..I remember;  in 6th grade all of my friends had been placed in another class.  There were 2 boys that I knew from 3rd and 4th grade and that was it.  I was a shy girl and had started to wear glasses and my friends were talking about boys and movie stars.  I thought they were silly.

 

I remember one day in 6th grade when I was given Chip Bs paper to grade and I was honest and he made a very poor grade.  The other kids around me, whispered that I shouldn't do that; I should give him a better grade;  didn't I know who his father was?!   I remembered whispering back that I didn't care who his father was, that I was not going to change his grade.  Well, I never was given his paper to grade again.  

 

Uvalde's post office was recently renamed to honor Chip's father.  Will the town be next?

 

I remember freshman year at the local jr college, approaching one of my highschool friends and being rebuffed.  Pat was wearing an Afro and talking funny.  huh?  Was she ashamed to be seen talking to me?  

 

I remember our first Chemistry class test.  I was happy that I missed only one.  The instructor lit into the students pointing out my grade (I smiled proudly) and then saying they should not be allowing me to make a better grade than them.  It took me awhile to get his message.  He ranted for a bit.  The year was 1971.

 

Well, I grew up and am still odd.  My siblings find me odd.  Remember Robert Frost's poem The Road Not Taken ?  That poem spoke to me the first time I read it in highschool (freshman year, I think).  I decided then that I would be true to myself; not try to fit in.  So, I would not have a lot of friends and my mother would whisper with her sisters about my lack of boyfriend and how I was always reading, etc.

 

Along the way, I have found others who have become my friends, irregardless of  "race, color, or creed" and that includes the man I married  ;-)

 

Life;  fascinating; the more things change, the more they remain the same ...

The teens across the street started up their garage band again.  It has been quiet for weeks.  I just realized that 30 minutes later, I am still sitting here by the window which faces the street!  The music they are playing is actually quite mellow; quite musical and none of that banging, screeching stuff...yet. 

Just read the headline on MSN  "improve your marriage by not talking"  ...  had me chuckling.  Yep, my hubby would probably have something to say about this one.

 

I say that most of the talking in our marriage is done by my hubby.  I wonder what he would say? 

 

*yawn*  I feel so lazy.  Up before 6:30 AM, early enough to enjoy a bright moon and some planet  below it. 

 

Am thinking about the talking I do when with my hubby.  hmmmm....  not mindless chatter, I don't think.....

 

Probably, we need to do this or that;  check for holes in the mortar around the house;  the windows need re-grouting or whatever it is called;  the lawn has brown spots;  we need to enlarge that flower bed.  Wonder why my hubby doesn't notice the neighbor down the street's flower bed? 

 

He asks what about dinner when we have just left the movie theatre and consumed a ton of popcorn and soda.  My mind used to scramble madly with thoughts of what to fix.  Now, I simply say, "am too full to even think about dinner".

 

I say, 'the a/c filter needs changing'  He asks, 'do we have a new one?'   I think, "why don't you look?"  Instead, I say to him, "don't know".  I used to hop and go look to see if we have a new one.  I think, "why doesn't he remember about the a/c filter needing to be changed.  It is the middle of the month"

 

Maybe he wonders why I have allowed the study to accumulate all this stuff and why I unpacked son #2s mess and have not repacked it.  He cannot park his car in the garage because of it.

 

I better get off my duff and take care of some paperwork....  or not!  books to read, movies to watch...  should I fix an iced tea or go out for a mocha?  hmmmmm.....

Connecting with old highschool classmates is so much fun!  (you can see I don't get out much, huh? )   The latest has a 38 year old daughter.  good gosh..am I THAT old?!!  Old enough to have a daughter that old?!  I was a late bloomer.  My two sons are just in their mid-twenties.  This gal has a total of 12 grandchildren.  She is enjoying retirement and traveling around to visit her kids and grandkids. 

 

This morning I also chatted briefly on FB with another hsc.  She is single (again) and living in my other favorite city: Austin.  She is great with words.  She introduced me to a new author, Oscar Casares, a Texas native.  His book Amigoland came out this week.  I have checked out from the library his collection of short stories, Brownsville. 

 

Well..back to reading another of my favorite authors, Dorothy Cannell's Ellie Haskell mystery, She Shoots to Conquer. 

 

bliss

Second day of doing a 2 mile walk.  Yesterday we had a nice breeze, but today I was sopping wet by the time I got home and this was before 8 AM!  It is a hot, humid morning.

 

The Lanacane not only helped with the itching but also reduced the swelling substantially.  Yesterday morning when I went on my walk, I felt like I was carrying a small bag of fluid attached to my ankle.  Last night when I took Buddy for his around-the-block walk, not only was there no itch, there was also no "sloshing"!

 

How do I usually treat swelling cause by bug bites?  Ice and rest the foot and/or a poultice of vinegar and baking soda which also means immobility.

Read Carol Dee comment on how Lanacane helps her not only stop the itch but reduce the swelling caused by mosquito bites.  So, off to the local supermarket to buy Lanacane.  The itching stopped immediately. Nice.  Will see if it helps reduce the swelling also.

 

I remember how years ago when I broke out in hives, this is what I used.  The hives were gone in no time.

Am recovering from a week of the little g-nieces followed by four days at our casita when I dropped off the little ones.  At the casita I spent a lovely time visiting with my 80 plus yr old father, fixing meals, cleaning, taking him to visit his old hometown and folk there, a trip to Garner State Park with daddy and mutt, Beau, to dip our toes in the Frio River and I even mowed the lawn (mostly weeds and dirt) on my next to last day.

 

Now it is back to reading!  Which I keep falling asleep and haven't finished a book in the two days I've been back home.

 

 

Have two little ones visiting.  My sister's granddaughters ages nearly 5 and just turned 11 are here.  I love having them around even though it curtails my reading time seriously.  We have been to the beach twice.  Didn't think we were going to go after all this morning because I was woken by the phone at 5:30... makes me grumpy to be woken early. (The call was for son #2 from work; they should have called his cell!)  Then I bumped my head getting into the car.   The car was all packed for the beach but I told them that we would go shopping  instead.  Kid 11 has been looking for a certain pair of shoes at Walmart.  We had already shopped at the two in town on two previous days, so we stopped at the one on the way to the Island.  No shoes but the hot coffee and half a donut on the way to the store plus the cool air at Walmart revived me enough. 

 

It was not so bad at the beach.  Only a few tar balls, no sea weed to speak of and no jellies.  The sky had light wispy clouds which didn't obscure the sun's hot rays, but my straw hat helped immensely.  The girls had fun boogie board and body surfing and even built a couple of sand castles.

 

I do insist on naps.  For my sake, especially.  I get grumpy if I am too tired and they certainly don't want a grumpy ole Auntie!

 

 

Yesterday I had a migraine.  They now come on differently and so I thought I had simply not had a good sleep.  I puttered around outside watering our lawn and my neighbor's potted plants.  I kept wanting and waiting to feel good enough to drive the 2 miles to the grocery store.  Finally gave in and laid on the couch to watch a movie.  I found it fascinating so only dozed a bit.  Of course I had to get up and let the doggies outside and then back inside.  The movie was "La Vie en Rose" the story of Edith Piaf.  I am going to watch it again today.

 

Little Chihuahua Princess Bella is so vicious!  Big ole 45 lb Beau took away her chew bone and she growled and nipped at his ear.  Beau just rolled his eyes and gnawed at the chew bone.  Last night and again this morning, Hubby took Beau and Bella on their 2 mile walk. Bella did very well, only once walking in the big guys' path and getting underfoot.  I walked senior Pug Buddy who is getting slower and slower.

 

This past Saturday, hubby and I took the doggies for a walk at our favorite bay park.  I had Pug Buddy and Chihuahua Bella while hubbs had Beau.  We three strolled slowly and soon Hubbs and Beau left us way behind.  As I watched another dog walker loading his 4 doggies into his car, I heard an awful sound.  Looking up towards the street I saw a body flying through the air like a limp doll.  I remember seeing pink limbs like in pink cloth ... maybe my mind wanted it to be a doll.  As I watched, I prayed "please don't run her body over; please don't let anyone run her over".    Another cyclist came up to the body, got off his bike and said "I'm calling 911 ma'm" over and over...  the poor guy was so distraught that he had trouble dialing.  I was quite a distance from the street, what with Pug Buddy being very slow.  I saw 2 other people calling on their cell phones.  The other cyclist then asked the gal, "Do you know anyone who owns a black pickup, Ma'm?"  She whimpered "noooo".  It was so hard to see her lying there and whimpering and not being able to help her.  The other cyclist kept telling her "the ambulance is coming, ma'm"  Another gal, who was walking sans dogs, went up to the fallen cyclist and laid her hand on her back.  I was praying silently the only prayer I could remember, The Lord's Prayer.  It seemed like it took forever for the ambulance to arrive. First on the scene was a police car.

 

The cyclist is doing as well as can be expected.  Actually, according to the news, her doctors say she is alive because she is in excellent health.  Her and her husband's hobby is cycling.  He wasn't with her that morning because he had to work.  She is 42 and the mother of five, ages 5 to 18.  Her legs, pelvis and some vertebrae were broken according to the news. 

 

One of Barbara's kin was on the news saying that the driver, who did not stop, is probably frightened and she wishes the person to be found, not caught; to pray for the person as well.

 

The other cyclist who was maybe 100 ft back says the pickup deliberately drove into the bike lane.  The speed limit in the area is 40, I think.  It appears that the pickup slowed down after the hit.  Surely they saw the body flying?  Were they distracted?  were they texting?  did they drop something and bent to pick it up?    Did they see the other cyclist walking and think it was the person they hit?  What could be going through that driver's mind?

 

I was so shaken and I saw it from quite a distance away.  I remembered my mother giving us a teaspoon of sugar when we were kids and frightened or shocked by something.  So, when I came home I took a bit of sugar followed by water.   I finally force myself to go back to the park on Monday evening.  Everytime I see a black pickup truck, my heart skips a bit.

 

Son #2 came home from his visit to his bio family on Sunday afternoon.  He said he had a good time, was glad he went, is ready to become a Coastie, and is back to work at McDs in the meantime.

 

Son #1 has only one last week with us before moving to his first house in another city 180 miles away.

 

Before long it will only be hubby and myself, dogs: Buddy, Beau and Bella, and cats: Bart & Maggie.