Last day of Kindergarten

The absolutely WONDERFUL Mrs. Barrientos, a.k.a. Mrs. B. I am going to miss her more than I can say.  Hopefully she'll still be there when Joel hits Kindergarten in two years.

Gabriel had his last day of Kindergarten today.  The year started with daily meltdowns over the long school day, and had a few bumps during the year (talking back to the teacher, more meltdowns if he didn't understand directions).  But then he started a library reading program, and his teacher started him on a reading program called SRE cards.  She was great enough to realize he was bored when the other kids were working on reading and took care of his boredom.  He made 100 on every library reading test and SRE test.

We told him in March if he could go the remainder of the school year with no negative comments from his teacher about ANYTHING, he would get a BIG reward when school was over.  He did it.  Not one problem came up, and he came home happy every day.

I forgot to look in his folder last Friday when he got home.  Normally Mrs. B just writes, "Have a good weekend!"  But thank goodness I finally looked at it yesterday afternoon, because she had written this:  "Please try to come to the Wednesday Mass because Gabriel will be receiving a special award.  Secret."  I called work right away to tell them I would be late.  Jav sadly just couldn't get off work, but my mom agreed to come with me.  The only problem I have with his school is the lack of warning we have for things, sometimes big things!  We had no idea that the Award Ceremony would be following the Mass on Wednesday, and didn't know about the Mass until Tuesday when I picked him up.  Poor communication.

But we couldn't help but get a little excited.  We told him that Mamaw and I were coming to Mass since it was the last one of the year.  It was wonderful.  Father Paul told them to do three things for the remainder of the day:  Thank God, thank your parents, and thank your teachers before going home.  All for their school.  We sat through Honor Roll certificates and Music Department recognition.  Then they got to Citizenship, which I still don't really understand the meaning of.  They said one girl and one boy from each grade.  Kindergarten was first, and Kalilah, his best friend, was announced as the girl.  He was so excited for her and surprised.  Then they announced his name as the boy.  He was flabbergasted.  But he went up there after an encouraging nod from me and a yank from Mrs. B.  Kalilah's parents and I ran to get a picture of all of them:  (Some of them still getting certificates and medals).  Gabriel is on the far right, Kalilah on the left.

When he got back to his seat, he showed me the award.  It said it was for "Outstanding Student".  He leaned over and whispered, "Is this for Student of the Month?", something he had really wanted but that had eluded him all year.  I said "No, it's sort of for Student of the Year.  Which is even better, isn't it?"  He beamed so brightly.  We went outside and got to take a picture of both of them.  Mrs. B had the whole class give them a big, "Hip, hip, hooray!!!"  and clap.  He wondered aloud in the car driving home if maybe he and Kalilah won the awards because they are such good friends and good for each other's learning.  I was thinking that and pretty proud of him to realize it on his own.  In fact, I'm so darn proud of him I can't think straight today!  Wow, did he ever come a long way.  I must give most of the credit to Mrs. B, who knows how to find their gifts and show the students they have them, giving them confidence.  Gabriel gets credit for working so hard to follow the guidelines we set.  The last credit is up for debate.  His parents, or Kalilah?  Maybe both.

First grade, here we come!!

Birds and bees

I love Springtime in our yard.  It has been an especially cool one (until now, at least).  We've had rain about once a week, which has caused things to grow like crazy.  The season brought some friends back to our house that we've seen for a couple of years now.  The hummingbird couple showed up on Easter Sunday.  I had been hanging the feeders for two weeks, and Gabriel was the one who spotted them.  We added a third tiny feeder in our Chinese pistachio, and they LOVE it because it's farther away from the hubbub of the house.  I know it's the same couple not only because of their markings, but because within a week of arriving they didn't pay much attention to any of us, and now just feed whether we're out there or not.  Along with the nectar from the feeders, they enjoy salvia and honeysuckle during this time of year.  I know their tiny chirps and can usually find them sitting in the trees.  I have lots of questions about this couple, though.  Are they the same species?  Do differing species ever mate if they can't find one of their own?  I looked up nesting patterns of hummingbirds, and the female is the one who does all the work making the nest, even testing it by flying into it and jumping on it to make sure it is strong enough.  One upsetting thing I read was that the inside of the nest cannot reach a temperature of more that 96 degrees F or the eggs will not hatch.  That is why many hummingbirds nest farther north than Texas.  It's been cooler, but we've also had some pretty hot days.  I hope they can have some babies this year.  

We also had a return visit for about the fourth year in a row from our crow couple.  We weren't sure if it's the same couple coming back year after year, or their offspring.  We always call the large one Charlie and the slightly smaller one Charlie's wife.  Charlie is at least two feet tall.  He's the crow that scared away a hawk from their coveted bird bath earlier in the Spring.  We have heard the babies through the years.  They "caw", but the sound is more high-pitched than the adult calls.  But this is the first year that we've actually witnessed the offspring.  They have two "babies" that are now almost as big as their parents, following them around and doing their little mini-caws.  The parents offer them worms and other tidbits still, and they still have their little beaks open waiting for a treat most of the time.  Both kids were drinking from the bird bath one night last week, with either Momma or Daddy watching from the nearby tree.  In all these years we didn't realize that the babies get that big so quickly.  The picture on the left is one of the offspring at the prized birdbath.  The other is the Mama, the Daddy (Charlie, the big guy on the far side of the street) and other baby.  These were taken at the same time, and that is the farthest away I have seen one of the babies get away from their parents  

Then I looked up how long crow fledgelings stay with their parents and learned a fascinating thing:  Crow chicks stay with their parents for an entire year or sometimes longer, and actually help raise the next year's fledgelings!  Fascinating.  At least to this bird nerd.  I used to think they were a nuisance, always hogging the bird bath and dunking all kinds of disgusting stuff in it that I have to dump out.   But now I think their presence has become part of our life cycle as much as theirs.  They tolerated Jav and I spending several Sundays out putting in a new flower bed (a post on that later), and would just patiently wait in one of the trees until we went to the garage or inside for a few minutes.  We could barely walk away before one of them was standing on the bird bath again, dunking something or getting a drink.

We also have had a fun time watching a Screech Owl couple named Hoot N Annie by the people whose yard they reside in.  The couple decided to build an owl box, and when they realized a couple had found it and laid eggs inside, before the next Spring they installed a camera inside the box, and one outside to watch the door.  Since then Hoot N Annie have successfully hatched and raised 25 owlets!  Pretty good parents, if you ask me.  They had four this year, and I cannot begin to explain how nice it has been to watch this event unfold, especially during the tragedies of the Boston bombings, the West, Texas explosion, and the recent horrible tornado destruction.  Watching these babies hatch, get bigger, and finally fly the nest has been a breath of fresh, happy air.  Above is a picture of two of the new hatchlings.  Look how CUTE they are.  Here is the link to see video of them leaving the nest for the first time.

We were also proud to have more bees, this time on the honeysuckle and our giant photinia that's outside our master bedroom windows.  One evening when I was putting off cooking dinner, the boys and I just planted ourselves on some chairs and watched them feeding for about 20 minutes.  They loved being able to get that close to them with no fear of a bee sting.  Even though I tell them all the time that the bees are too busy doing their pollination thang to be too worried about them walking by.

But the coolest thing that happened this Spring had to be our caterpillars.  We were invaded by these black, burgandy and blue spiky caterpillars.  Jav and I don't remember ever seeing them before.  They were all over our front porch, hanging from the eaves and attic vents, when I guessed that they might be preparing to make a chrysalis around themselves.  We started checking daily, and sure enough suddenly counted six.  There were other caterpillars still hanging around, but something ate them or happened to them before they had a chance to make a chrysalis.

I didn't check on them every day, because I read that the chrysalis period could take anywhere from one week up to two years!  Then one day Joel and I got home from preschool, and noticed something on the garage floor.  It was a butterfly!  And it was so beautiful.  It must have fallen off the garage door when I opened it up.  I found a big leaf and led it to (hopefully) safety under a bush in the yard.  The others hung next to their chrysalis for 24 or so hours, I'm assuming to dry their wings out?  Or work their courage up?  There was one left and Joel and I checked it one morning, and the chrysalis had turned black.  I KNEW it was about to come out, but we had a lunch date with my cousin and couldn't stay and watch.  Sure enough, when we returned there was the butterfly hanging there, proud as a peacock.  

I finally looked it up a few nights ago and found out it's called a Mourning Cloak.  It's a brush-footed butterfly, which means their front two legs are characteristically shorter than their 4 remaining legs, and therefore impossible to aid in walking.  The article says they overwinter as adults, which I guess means they are supposed to live all the way to the following Spring?  That would be a long time.  I have since seen one flitting around our driveway and realized what it must feel like when a child returns from college for that first weekend back at home - giddy parental joy.  Even though I had nothing to do with these beauties being born, I feel somehow responsible for them, and I'm afraid there is no way they're going to make it until next Spring.  Maybe that is why we've never seen them before in the 8-1/2 years we've been here.  

It was just so cool to actually witness something I've only read about or seen on TV.  It really, really happens!  Makes me want to break into the chorus of, "The Circle of Life" from the Lion King.  Thank goodness this blog has no sound!

George and Billie, and aging gracefully

I speak often of our wonderful neighbors and friends, George and Billie.  We invite them over for the boys' birthday parties.  Gabriel used to go to their house and "play" every other week, before he started full-time school.  They bring presents for the boys on Valentine's Day, Easter, and Christmas.  We bake quick breads, banana pudding, and cookies for their birthdays, and Mother's and Father's Day.  If I don't see Billie out walking Annie, her pomeranian, during the week, I call her on Fridays and we talk for at least a half hour, just catching up. One day, when I was suffering from sinus problems, I ran over to ask Billie to smell some chicken I was trying to use for dinner, to make sure it still smelled okay.  She didn't find this strange at all and was happy to do it.  That's how close we have become.  I feel like they are surrogate great-grandparents to Gabriel and Joel.

Every Saturday morning for the past 20 years or so, they have breakfast at the Swiss Pastry Shop.  We tried joining them a couple of years ago when Joel was just starting to sit in a high chair, and all we remember is trying to keep the boys from making a mess and being too loud.  We vowed that one day we would go back, just Jav and I, to enjoy a more relaxing breakfast with these two special people.




















We had our opportunity last Saturday, since each boy spent the night with a different set of grandparents for our Friday night anniversary date  (more about that later).  George drove us.  Yes, I said George.  I was a little nervous, since I have ridden with much younger people that have scared me to death.  But no problem with George.  Smooth sailing.  Everyone in the restaurant knows them, of course, and were pleased and surprised to see they had guests.  It was a lovely breakfast.  Great stories, from both sides of the table, and delicious food with two people that we have grown to love in the eight years we've lived in our house.  George even took the trouble of driving us home the long way, so that we could say we were with them the last time we drove over the 7th Street Bridge going over the Trinity.  It's coming down over the next few weeks so that a new one can go up.

Their house was the third one built in this neighborhood, the first one on our block.  George was born in Clovis, New Mexico.  He retired from Texas Electric many years ago.  He has outlived all of the other retirees from his class, so now plays poker once a month with some younger retirees.  At 90, he still does all of his own yard work.  My mother claims this is part of the reason he is still up and going strong.  When he finishes the yard, he sits in their breezeway porch swing and has a beer.  Jav claims this is another reason.  George loves the Rangers and never misses a second of a ball game.  He is no-nonsense, plain spoken and has a dry sense of humor and is just as wise as he can be.  We can't see that he has anything physically or mentally different about him, except that in the past year or so he is moving a tiny bit slower than when we first met him.

I don't know as much about Billie's past.  (Shame on me, I need to ask some questions!)  I know that at one point she worked outside the home, I believe in an office setting.  Her parents were very close to George and helped them out many times when they first were married.  They have one daughter, Georgeanne, and were mature parents, just like us.  Billie is in great shape mentally, but has vision and hearing problems that keep her from living the life she used to.  George is having to do most of the cooking now that her eyesight has gone downhill.  But she loves our boys, gives me WONDERFUL parenting advice, and has one of the sharpest senses of humor of anyone I know.

Allison, their only grandchild, is a sophomore in high school.  They attend all of her plays, piano recitals, musicals, band concerts, soccer games, and awards ceremonies.  And then some.  They keep her dog when she goes away to camp three times each summer.  They are doting grandparents to her, and she is there about twice a week to have dinner with them.

Jav and I talk more now about aging and how it gets a little daunting and depressing as you get older.  Losing people you love is hard to think about, and so is realizing your own mortality getting closer and closer.  But it just doesn't seem to bother these two.  They just get up and live the life they love every day.  It's as if they don't expect it to change or go away, and don't seem to pine for the way things were.  Maybe in private it's different, but to all of us in the outside world, they just live simply, do things that make them happy, and quietly and gracefully accept this life as it moves along on down the road.  Maybe that is the best reason of all for their longevity.

Fond food memories

About five weeks into our no-meat Lent back in March, I had a craving at work for a cheeseburger.  But not just any cheeseburger.  Not one of those meat/soy/cereal/who-knows-what-else mixtures that claim to be a burger these days.   This was a burger straight from my childhood.

The Char-Bar was a drive-up (they didn't have drive-thrus yet) burger joint on East Lancaster.  Smokey's Barbecue is now gracing the spot where it used to stand.  I remember a huge speaker box that my dad would yell our order into.  I wonder who I thought he was talking to as an eight-year-old.  God as short-order cook, complete with greasy apron and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, answering our hungry prayers one patty at a time?  I remember the smell wafting out of the kitchen, making your mouth water and your stomach growl even louder.  I remember the music playing to entertain us, my dad usually whistling along with his beautifully toned whistle.  I remember, after waiting for what seemed like a half-hour, girls delivering our dinner wearing some type of stripes-either on a uniform or a hat.  But mostly I remember the burger.  Heaven on a toasted bun.  Heavy on the mustard, ketchup and pickles.  Real cheese dripping down the sides.  The meat charred just enough to have a slight crunch on the outside.  Which must have all gotten into my head to stay, because I don't like my burgers any other way to this day.

People didn't eat out as much back then.  During our Char-Bar days, there were no fast-food restaurants.  But when they came, I can't imagine that we would have traded that juicy burger goodness for quicker but soggier McDonald's.  The Char-Bar must have already been defunct by then, right?  Or did the promise those golden arches held actually affect people's taste buds back then?  After all, it was new, and fast, and oh so convenient,  No more waiting a half-hour for your dinner.  But oh the price we paid (and still pay) for that convenience.

The only burger that has ever come close to a Char-Bar burger in my brain is a Chili's Old Timer.  Close, but not quite.  How nice to know that when slightly dizzy from low-blood sugar and obviously lacking proper protein for awhile that those food memories are alive and well and pretty powerful things.

Next food memory post:  Wyatt's Cafeteria.