Dreams of the Adirondacks

I have a new dream in life.  I want to own a cabin on a lake.  And ever so slowly, the place that has crept up to the pinnacle in my brain is The Adirondack Mountains.  Every time I see pictures of the area my knees go all weak and my heart skips a beat.  Then, yesterday, I read this article in Travel and Leisure magazine while waiting for a doctor's appointment.  I wish the online article had the pictures.  My teeny pictures I found above don't really do the place justice.  It just looks like one of the most beautiful places on earth to me.  

My ex-husband's family had a lake house on tiny Lake Weatherford, and I think my time spent there must have planted this seed in my head a long time ago.  The whole family (and their best friends who lived next door) would spend holiday weekends there.  The neighbors had a full-sized sand volleyball court by the water, and my ex-inlaws had a shuffleboard court, plenty of yard games like horseshoes, and a big old ski boat.  Occasionally we'd water ski or just putter around the lake in the boat, but this never held as much appeal for me.  I've decided boat owners are people who like to tinker with things.  I have some fond memories of my ex father-in-law with his head hanging over the engine, various tools scattered on the ground below him, scotch and water resting somewhere within reach, and weaving a string of curses as long as the Mississippi.  This would always signal the beginning of summer to me.  

But it's really just now hitting me how much of a lake person I really am.  I love to watch the cranes taking off and landing.  I love the sound of tons of insects and the frogs croaking during the summer nights.  I love looking up and actually seeing stars in the sky, more stars than you ever thought could be up there.  I love taking the dog for a walk around the lake.  I love seeing the seasons change on the water.  And if you've never experienced dusk while sitting on the dock sipping a beer, when the water is ultra-still and the birds are feeding everywhere, well then you haven't really lived, my friend.  

I also would really enjoy owning a second cabin to rent out, and thereby have some nice extra income coming in.  I think I would totally love doing this for a living.  I'm good at setting moods and creating comfortable spaces.  I don't really mind cleaning up after other people, unless they've just trashed the place.  I know it would be hard work, but when you enjoy something it doesn't seem that bad.  

Of course, we already own a rental property in Padre, but we are not very hands-on owners since it's so far away from us.  This kind of bothers me.  I know we would do a better job on the upkeep and could make the condo much more appealing to renters if we were able to maintain it more than once a year.  The people who are running things down there just do the bare minimum they have to do by law, if that.  Plus you have to worry about hurricanes, which just happened to us.  Our condo (which is on the fifth floor of the building) didn't sustain any real damage, but because the lower levels and outside property had some major damage they had to shut the whole building down for repairs for the entire month of August.  Since August is usually our biggest rent month this really, really sucks.  

Jav and I talk about retirement (a scary subject since I decided to drop out of the workforce to raise our child, and I'm old), and I think we determined that our combined dream would be to live at the Padre condo from December through May, then head north to our lake cabin from June through Thanksgiving.  That way you get the beautiful summers, fall and maybe even one or two early snows up north, then head south before it gets to be cabin fevered (picture Jack Nicholson limping around with an ax), winter time.  Then just about the time it starts to get really hot in Texas, (and before hurricane season really starts), we head back, leaving the summer months to tourist rentals, when we can make the most money.  Isn't that just the most lovely plan?  We could even have rental income coming in all year long.  The only hitch is that I'm not really crazy about spending Christmas at the beach.  Just something about cold weather that makes you feel all cozier about the holidays.  But besides that, it seems like the perfect plan.  And no matter how unobtainable they may seem sometimes, it's nice to have dreams.

A new tradition is born

Jav and I had a house project we worked on Sunday morning while Tia Sandy took Gabriel for a wonderfully fun morning at the park.  We had some time when we finished so we decided to go have lunch, something that can be a little hard on the nerves with Gabriel lately.  We needed to run another errand in the TCU area, so Jav picked a sandwich place just across the street from the campus called Potbelly Sandwich Works.  I may have seen one, but wasn't really familiar with them at all.  As I started eating my fantastically good sandwich (The Italian), and sipping my Key Lime bottled soda, I asked him where he'd eaten at one before, and he said he dined at one at an airport before coming home from our friends Mark and Chey's wedding last year.  I started thinking, and realized it was exactly one year ago this past weekend.  So the weekend nearest August 18th (their actual anniversary), has now been deemed the Annual Potbelly Weekend, where we will venture out for our once a year sandwich feast. 

And it will be a happy weekend indeed.

It might be haircut time

We're debating whether or not to get Gabriel's hair cut before he starts Day School in two weeks.  His curls seem as if they've become a big part of his identity, at least to me.  I've only had two people ask if he was a boy.  Everyone else knew he was boy through and through.  And most of the Moms we've had conversations with waiting in lines or shopping have said, "Don't you touch that hair!" whenever I mention that we're thinking about cutting it.   But it is getting really long, and sometimes hangs down in his face, and I promised myself I wouldn't let him look shaggy.

I know that besides starting school, his first haircut will probably be one of the most emotional things I'll have to go through.  The result will be such a visual symbol that he's growing up and not a baby anymore.  And I'm going to be so sad if the curls never come back.  But maybe it would be better to get both things over with at the same time.  

Shaggy all of a sudden doesn't seem so bad!

Bones: From crotchety to cuddle muffin

For some reason, I had a very sad Henry moment this morning.  I was watching Elmo with Gabriel and I got really sad all of a sudden and missed that big drooly purring lump in my lap.  I was crying, but trying to pull myself together so Gabriel wouldn't wonder why Elmo was making Mama sad.  Luckily he was oblivious, but I noticed Bones staring at me.  I asked him if he missed Henry sometimes too.  

Well, when we got home from doing our Thursday thing several hours later, we walked into Gabriel's room and there was the fishing pole with the curly ribbon tied to it.   I couldn't play with the cats using that fishing pole for about a month after we lost Henry.  Then I decided to switch out the little fish with the bell that I had custom made so Henry could hear it with some curly ribbon that someone had left after a birthday party.  I have been making a concentrated effort to play with Bones and Zoe more lately.  But, not only has the fishing pole not made it's way into Gabriel's room since Henry died, Bones has NEVER left a toy for anybody before in the house.  You really could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw it.

Then as soon as Gabriel was asleep, Bonesy came and curled up in my lap and let me pet him for the longest time.  I'm not sure if Bones was letting me know that he's a little more content now that there are fewer pets and I have more time to play with him, or if he knew how much I needed that little extra lovin'.  Either way, it sure did make me feel better.  And it just further confirms my belief that animals are instinctively so much smarter than most people give them credit for.

Small miracles

Today was a truly great day.  No, the future history books will not have any of the small miracles that I witnessed today recorded.  But in our little world - that I will admit revolves completely around Gabriel - this was a huge day.

Just before Gabriel's nap, we were reading a book together, and he made four different new animal noises during the course of the book:  horse, cat, owl and puppy.  He also started making a "whoo whoo" train noise every time he rides on his big indoor car.  I realized after witnessing Jav carry him piggy back around the house tonight that he is copying DaDa, who always makes a train noise during this expedition.  Then tonight, he turned on his old musical walker that he's ignored for a couple of weeks.  He was humming, clapping, and dancing to the songs that I have endlessly sung, even when I didn't think he was always paying attention.  There's one song that I don't know the words to, so I always just made this soft shoe noise and kind of hummed along.  Tonight he was bouncing up and down and soft-shoeing away, and although it took me about half the song to realize what he was doing, I just beamed with joy when I figured it out.  

We think he's not paying attention, and that we're just foolishly doing some of this stuff for no apparent reason.  Today it dawned on us that he is listening and watching pretty much everything we do, and we can't wait to see what he learns next.

Now, what did I do with that white ball gown?

In 1966, Truman Capote (I know, my second Capote reference in as many weeks-what's up with that?) threw what some people have called the Party of the Century.  It was called The Black and White Ball, and was thrown in honor of his friend and editor of The Washington Post, Katherine Graham.  Some attendees weren't impressed with the party, seemed bored and left early (including Frank Sinatra and his then wife Mia Farrow, pictured above); others claimed it was a huge success and would not be surpassed by any to follow.  As you can see, the mask element added an air of mystique and intrigue.

Why am I yammering about this?  Because we have an opportunity to attend our very own Black and White Ball, the Fort Worth Opera's fundraising event this year.  The invitation came attached to a mask, and the cheapest ticket is $350.00.  If you don't want to sit with the riffraff, you could spend $20,000 to sit at the Swan table.  Can you even imagine spending $20,000 and not having a new shiny automobile or some such afterwards?  

But money aside, I would love to go to a big, grownup party like this one day before I die.  One where it takes months to find the right dress, shoes and jewelry.  One where just the anticipation and excitement of what's to come can put you in a good mood.  One where it takes all day just to get ready for it.  I guess I've already been to one event that lives up to all three of those expectations:  my wedding, which was absolutely the funnest party I've ever been too.  But I'm sure the Black and White Ball would come in a close second.  

That's the signpost up ahead...your next stop, The Terrible Two Zone

Multiple screams of horror follow.  

My son has entered his next phase in life.  Boy did I have it easy up until now.  He has always been so good in every situation, whether it be a trip to the grocery store, eating out, or family get-togethers.  As long as I had snacks in my purse to satisfy him throughout the duration of a trip to the store, he's always been so happy.

Oh.    My.    God.    He now tries to stand up in the cart the whole time we're shopping.  We gave up on trying to make him stay in one at Lowe's one night (a horrible time to be shopping with a toddler, by the way).  We finally let him down and he proceeded to run up and down the aisles, making a noise similar to a recently freed caged animal.  Then he spotted the abandoned forklift.  His new goal in life was to touch it, then he wanted to move the knobs and push buttons, which would have involved climbing on top of it.  This was not going to happen, so multiple screams, sitting on the ground, and limping out of his entire body followed.  

The next clue that we have entered the TTZ was in Barnes and Noble, where we were browsing with my Mom and nephew.  Anytime I tried to take his hand, he would squeal in protest and run the other way.  If I happened to be too quick for him and grab it, he would sit on the ground, followed by me trying to pick up a limp-boned 33-pound dead weight.  I finally had to carry him sideways to keep him from bowing his entire body, all the while making his now very loud squeals.    I REALLY hate to be in a store while my child is causing such a ruckus, and of course told everyone we needed to make a hasty exit.  

Apparently I will have to get used to it, though, if I want to venture out in public for the next couple of months.  I'm hoping that eventually he'll mature enough so that I can use bribes and/or threats of taking Teletubbie-watching privileges away to make it through a shopping expedition.  For now I will just pack extra snacks, try to be patient and loving even though my child is acting like the Tasmanian Devil, and pray.  

Addendum to birthday post

I just found out about some people I missed.  If I had known Wayne Knight had a birthday on August 7th, this would have trumped the David Duchovny pic hands down.   "Hello Newman."

I also just found out I share a birthday with Bruce Dickinson, lead singer of Iron Maiden.  And you were so impressed that I knew his name, Julie.  Little did we know how much I have in common with him.

I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is done

My uncle comes in on the Amtrak train from Austin this afternoon.  It will be the first time he's commuted that way instead of by car.  What a lovely way to take a trip, at least in my opinion.  Time to read or just stare out the window.  Time to enjoy a cup of tea in the dining car.  And no stopping for gas!  

Coincidentally, there was an NPR story this morning on Amtrak and how much money they need to add, update and improve safety of trains and tracks.  The figure was 2 billion plus just for the northeast corridor.  Yikes!  Why don't we take some of the money that certain people in Congress are proposing for additional oil drilling and give it to Amtrak.  Hah.  

I would so love to be able to take trains everywhere, but it dawned on me while thinking about what it would be like that Texas is a difficult place to make this work.  No, not because everybody refuses to give up their vehicles (although that's true too).  It's mostly because it's so hot.  You would be a sweaty mess just walking a few blocks to a stop or station.  It's also because everything's so dang spread out.  This is not like countries and cities in Europe, where everything seems so neatly contained and compact.  

I heard that Fort Worth is thinking of reinstating a trolley line, and it would be a slight nudge in the right direction.  I know that I plan to ride the Trinity Railway Express to downtown and catch the bus to the cultural district, as soon as it cools off a little outside!   (I must admit that part of the reason for this post is so that I could post a train picture for my son.)

Update:  Amtrak needs more than just money.  They could use some customer service training.  I had to wait, holding 33 pound Gabriel the whole time, in a long line where people were mostly buying tickets, to ask where my uncle's train was.  It took them an average of 8 - 10 minutes per customer, which is just insane compared to how they get you through the lines in a European train station.  When I finally made my way up to a counter, they told me first that his train (supposed to arrive at 2pm), would be arriving around 4:30.  I was told that this really wasn't that late by Amtrak standards.  My Mom almost had several blood vessels explode and went back in line to give them a piece of her mind, and was finally able to understand that it would actually be 3:30.  We managed to keep Gabriel entertained the whole time we were there only by standing outside on the platform so he could see city buses, the Trinity Railway Express, and the big Amtrak trains to his hearts content.     It was a long, hot afternoon.

Attitude adjustment needed

Ok, so today is my birthday.  I usually don't have a hard time with birthdays.  Like my Dad says, celebrating another one is better than the alternative!  This year, however, finds me pretty down about some stuff.  The two biggest things are not being pregnant with a second child yet and my best friend moving away (post to follow in a few weeks).  Neither of which I have much control over at this point.  So, knowing how many wonderful blessings I have in my life, I'm trying to rally and move forward.  

Instead of wallowing, I'm going to talk about famous people I share a birthday with, along with some interesting things that happened in history on this day.

Notables born August 7th:

Two artists:  Grandma Moses and Andy Warhol, neither of whose works I enjoy all that much.

Two actors:  David Duchovny and Charlize Theron, both of whom I usually enjoy and respect their talent.

One historical figure:  Mata Hari, the spy.

Some interesting facts about this date:  Jack the Ripper committed his first murder on August 7th, 1888.

The Purple Heart Medal was established on this date in 1782.

And Peter Jennings died on this day in 2005.  

One more cool tidbit is that Lucille Ball, who I think is the greatest comic actress ever, missed my birthday by one day.  (She was born August 6th, 1911.)  

Scary

I think of all the things that frighten me about the effects of global warming, nothing sends a chill up my spine like reading about the disappearance of bees.  They are such an important part of our food chain, and scientists seem a bit baffled at why they are disappearing at such an alarming rate.  I know that even in our own little backyard ecosystem (which I try to keep as natural and pesticide free as possible), by this time of year we usually have at least 4 or 5 large wasp nests.  This year, there's not one.  They started out building them in the spring, and now, nothing.  

I seriously think we should heavily fine the pesticide companies, who in my opinion have tried to brainwash the public into thinking that all insects are bad and should be nuked off the face of the earth.  Maybe the money could go towards trying to reinstate colonies (with the understanding that they would be safe from future pesticide attacks), or at least towards more research into the problem.  Since they were part of what caused it.

A little dust never hurt anybody

I hate to dust.  I just finished cleaning my whole house in one 2-1/2 hour sitting.  But I didn't dust.  I hate dusting so much that I now only do it if I know I'm having company.  Or if I walk through a room and a little cloud seems to waft through the air.  I hate having to move everything out of the way - books, pictures, bric-a-brac, to dust.  That's why we have so few pieces of bric-a-brac in our house.  Dusting has become part of that specialized part of house cleaning only reserved for guests, like windexing the French door glass and storm doors, and sweeping the cobwebs off the porches.  I only do it if I absolutely have to.

It's a miracle we don't all have horrible sneeze attacks.  

To puppy or not to puppy, that is the question

My sister-in-law's boxer, (the one we thought was really sick with a liver problem), just had 7 puppies.  It turns out her distended tummy was not liver related after all.  The father is presumably a boxer/great dane mix.  I had talked with Jav about getting another dog early next summer, but I wasn't really ready to consider one now.  We've had a month and a half of relative pet peace since we lost Henry.  I've even had time to play with Zoe and Bones and Molly more, now that we're down to only three.  

And I know a puppy would turn our peaceful pet world completely upside-down.  It takes time and energy to train him (we would prefer a male at the recommendation of our vet), and to watch out that Molly doesn't get too jealous and "accidentally" step on the new addition.  We would probably also need to watch Bones and Zoe to make sure they didn't slip something into his food.  But there are pluses too.  Gabriel would be able to grow up with the new dog.  Molly could start training a new watch dog.  And, even if Molly doesn't realize it, she would probably enjoy the company of a scrappy little guy.  

We went to see them today, and everyone seems to be doing really well.  I've never seen puppies that new.  (they are 3 days old and so cute and tiny).  Jav and I both liked the male with the lightest color, a really light brown - the same color as the supposed Great Dane dad.  He also appears to be the longest of the puppies.  Sandra said she would give us first choice, but I'm still a little concerned about the health of Ruby, the mama.  Once we determine that she's ok, then we'll have to make a decision.  

 

The mean reds

In Truman Capote's Breakfast at Tiffany's, Holly Golightly talks of having the mean reds, which are much worse than the blues.  (At least she does in the movie; I've never read the book).  I think anyone who has to live through 100-plus degree heat day after day is well on their way to experiencing the mean reds.  I know I have them right now, and no matter how hard I try to think positively, I just keep sinking back down into them.  It's not a fun place to be.

More sadness

When I got home from the Girls' Trip, my former boss and friend Nannetta had called to give me news on my former assistant, Deborah.  I knew it must've been pretty bad since I haven't talked with either of them in over a year.  It turns out that Deborah's 21-year-old son (and only child), Curtis, had accidentally drowned over the weekend at Village Creek after jumping in and hitting his head.  Curtis had some mental slowness, and the maturity level of a 10-year-old.  But apparently he'd been insistent on leading his own life when he turned 21, and Deborah had been up many nights worrying about him before this happened.  The paper said that no one alerted authorities until he'd been under 10 minutes, and I wonder if earlier notification to someone might have saved his life.  But the outcome is still tragic, regardless of that.  

Some people just don't seem to have very good luck in life, and poor Deborah is one of those people.  She divorced Curtis's father about 10 years ago, and went through all kinds of legal and monetary battles with him.  The divorce left her with almost nothing, but at least she got a good job at Sunair, and if there's one thing I know about Sunair, they take good care of their employees.  She was very dedicated to caring for her son, and and trying to help him make his way in this world.  I hope she can find strength now to get through this.  I can't imagine the pain she's feeling right now, and it was hard to find any words of comfort when I spoke to her yesterday.  But I muddled through the best I could, and will be praying for her and her family.

First play date

While I was away in Lubbock having a wonderful time with my friends (post to follow), my son apparently was having a great time without me.  My sister-in-law brought her ex-roommate and her daughter, Lena, over to see Gabriel.  They got along splendidly and played and swam for two hours.  Needless to say, Gabriel was exhausted that night.  But happy!

A tough couple of weeks

The past week and a half has been possibly the hardest I've ever had to get through in a long time.  

My parents went on vacation, knowing that the remodel of their kitchen, den and bathroom was still going on.  They left my number with the general contractor, but didn't anticipate there would be any problems since they were supposed to be finished before they left on their trip.  Think again.  We had many trips where I had to grab Gabriel and head over there to deal with either the alarm going off, someone making a delivery and no one to meet them or some other crisis.  But, I would've done this and much more to ensure that my parents had a relaxing Colorado vacation.  They've taken care of our house PLENTY of times when we were out of town.  And because they're always doing nice things for us.  But I was very happy to see them back safe and sound.

Saturday we did our annual round trip drive to Lufkin and back to visit my sister-in-law's Godmother.  She is a cloistered nun and had her Silver Jubilee celebration a few weeks ago, but it was in the middle of the week and we could not go.  So we promised to visit her for the day.  This is always a nice day.  The monastery is peaceful and beautiful, surrounded by giant pine trees, and many of Sister Maria Rosario's fellow nuns always come to chat with us.  Gabriel gets used to their clothes after awhile and warms up and charms all of them.  But it's also a tough trip to do in a day, and we end up exhausted afterwards.  

One sad thing we're dealing with is that our priest is leaving St. Rita's.  He received a post going to St. Patrick's in downtown Fort Worth (a definite step up), so I'm happy for him, but we are so sad to see him go.  He did great homilies that Jav and I could always relate to because Father Richard is close to our ages.  And he did the most wonderful Baptism Mass for Gabriel that still brings tears to my eyes when I think about it.  We had a big dinner for him Sunday night and EVERYBODY showed up, which I was very happy to see.  It was an emotional evening.

That day I also found out my good, good friend is most probably moving away.  I'm happy for them, but really sad all at the same time.  

Yesterday I found out Cobra, my former reading student turned friend, went to the emergency room for the 4th time in 6 months with congestive heart failure and irregular heartbeat.  It took them 2-1/2 hours to stabilize her because anything they did to help one problem kept making the other problem worse.  She is in stable condition now (Gabriel and I visited briefly this morning), but needs a valve of some type put into her heart to stop the irregular beating.  I'm praying she still has some fight left, even though two of the four chambers in her heart are damaged.  

And my sister-in-law's new boxer, Ruby, who I haven't met yet but is apparently one of the sweetest dogs you'll ever meet, appears to have a severe liver problem and heart worms, and probably won't make it very much longer.  Sandra's only had her for a month and a half, but of course has gotten very attached to her. There's still a small hope that the heart worm problem is causing the liver problem, and heart worms can be cured.  

And finally, Hurricane Dolly struck South Padre yesterday with 100 mph winds.  We don't know if our condo is damaged, underwater, or blown away by the hurricane.  All the power is still down on the island and Jav can't get in touch with anyone.  All we can do is wait until some order is restored, and he may have to make a quick flight down there just to assess what's going on.  

It's just been too much emotional news lately.  I'm ready for some fun and laughter, and fun and laughter I shall have this weekend on our second annual Girls' Trip with my dear high school friends.  It couldn't have come at a better time!

And who says cartoons can't teach you things?

I just learned something so cool from Curious George.  

Loosey lefty, righty tighty.  

Why didn't someone else let me in on this years ago?

The Tao of Teletubbies

My son loves the Teletubbies. 

I remember first hearing about them years ago, from parents of toddlers who thought they were strange, but knew how much their kids seemed to get into them.  I checked them out one day when I was home sick from work, and agreed that they were very strange.  A United Kingdom created show with lots of Japanese Anime leanings about 4 little aliens (?) who love to play and watch real kids play all over the world.  OK, somebody smoked one too many funny cigarettes over there across the pond.  But they did seem sweet and innocent, and I could see how babies and toddlers could fall in love with them.

So when it came time for Gabriel to start watching TV, the two shows at the top of my list for him to watch were Teletubbies and Sesame Street.  I just have trouble with Barney - not because of the dinosaur himself, but because of the over-enthusiastic and bubbly children.  They drive me crazy.  So, we started with an assortment of DVD's, with some Baby Einstein, Sesame Babies and Teletubbies.  He has since rejected all notion of the Sesame Babies, preferring to watch the grown up version now.  The Baby Einsteins still hold his attention, for now.  And I even kept one Barney video because the whole thing was filmed at the Ft. Worth Zoo, which I thought was pretty cool.   But the stars in his world are Tinky Winky, Dipsy, Laa-Laa and Po.  We now own 7 hour-long DVD's and VHS tapes, which rivet Gabriel to the TV every evening while I'm cooking dinner.

Now that I'm an expert on this charming show, I can share why it's great.  They teach their young viewers about manners, saying "thank you" to each other when toys are handed off.  They teach about sharing.  They give each other hugs all the time, and I'm a big believer that you can never have too many hugs.  They love to dance.  They show real children playing and having fun from all over the world.  They also show cultural things like learning traditional dance in India or helping with chores like washing clothes in Africa.  It has taught Gabriel that there are children who may not look the same as him, but they are very like him in many ways.  Plus there are parts that are downright laugh-out-loud funny.  I'll never forget the first time I heard him belly laughing, and ran in to see him watching the part where their favorite meal, Tubby toast, sails out of the toaster and lands on each plate with an accompanying fart noise.  To a 15-month-old, that's comic genius.  

We decided to get him some Teletubbies jammies, and ended up having to order them direct from England.  They took forever to get here, then ended up being long-sleeved.  My Mom was sweet enough to transform them into short-sleeved, and we finally got to show him our surprise night before last.  Most of his reaction was saved on our video camera, but I managed to get a few stills.  They don't do his squealy excitement justice, although the last photo above caught him in mid-squeal.  

Give me weird but sweet over sugary and fake any day.   The Teletubbies ROCK!!    

Summer

The only way to enjoy the Dog Days.

The Dog Days of Summer are here in the state of Texas.   My energy level will continue to go down, slowly, until I'll just be a puddle of sweat by the time mid-September hits and brings slightly cooler weather.  I am stubborn about defending my plants and my yard against the heat.  I go to extremes to keep them going.  

I get up at six and start watering in between feeding the pets.  Because of the butcher job that Asplundh did to our trees last spring, the back strip of our backyard gets eight hours of full-on sun.  St. Augustine does not appreciate this much sun.  (Most living things don't unless they are thriving in the Sahara Desert.)  So in between sprinkler system waterings (every two days), I am moving our tiny portable sprinkler around.  I water all my backyard pots.  Every other day I get our flower beds in the back.  All before Gabriel ever gets up.  

We try to walk Molly three to four times a week.  In this heat, we have to be out the door by 7:45 at the latest or it's just already too hot.  This morning it was so humid I think I lost 5 pounds just by sweating.  Once it gets cooler, Jav can walk her two nights a week, which allows me to have the energy to mix up my workout a little with yoga or something besides walking.  We also move our walk time to later in the day once it cools down, which means we get to move a little slower in the mornings.

When Gabriel goes down for his nap, I fill up the birdbaths and various other water receptacles all over the yard, finish watering the beds in the front, and do any other ancillary outside tasks like spraying for bugs (organic, of course).  And then after doing the dinner dishes every night, I get the flower pots out front.  Twice a week I drag out the front hose to water our baby tree on a slow-drip all night long.   It still needs a little pampering since it's not two yet, just like Gabriel.    

Spreading out the yard tasks allows me to get it all done without getting total burnout.   But when the highs get into the hundreds, I start to get burned out anyway.  I have daydreams of pulling up all the grass on the backyard strip and putting in a lap pool.  I try to make myself like the way cactus looks in a landscape.  I determine that next spring I'm not going to plant ANYTHING new that will cause more watering.  

But by the time every spring arrives, I've blocked out the pain of the Dog Days, and can't wait to get new things in the ground.  I guess I'm a slow learner.  We're off to find a bigger backyard pool for Gabriel, one I can possibly fit it too.  Or at least my feet.

Reading

Even though Gabriel isn't even two yet, he already loves books and loves to be read to.  So I entered him into the Fort Worth Public Library's Summer Reading Program.  We got to log a day of reading in if I read to him (or if he looked through books by himself) for at least 20 minutes a day.  We quickly logged 15 days and the website told us to come by any branch and he would get a prize.  I lallygagged about this, but finally went by last Friday.   We were sent to the customer service desk, and when I told the library employee what we needed, she got this look on her face like, "Yeah, right, I'm sure he really read that much at his age." and I guess thought we were only out for the prize.  I could have assured her this was not the case, since I figured it was probably just some China-made little something or other.  It really made me mad, but of course I didn't say anything.  I mean, if she is skeptical and unenthusiastic about a child reading, what is she doing working there?  She seemed to lighten up when she saw how many library books we were checking out, and when Gabriel waved and said "bye-bye" to her in his cute little baby voice.  (Who wouldn't?)  Of course, when I found out one of the prizes was a free ticket to a Ranger Game, I kind of understood how people might take advantage.  But still.

I love how much he already loves books.  I brought our library books to Mass last night, and he spent almost the whole homily looking through them.  His two favorite books both have trains for the main subject - Puff Puff Chugga Chugga and Chugga Chugga Choo Choo.  He also loves both books I got at Half Price Books for him, which just makes me so happy considering how cheap they were.  We're going again this afternoon, and who knows what new adventures we'll find between the pages?

Baseball fun

We took Gabriel and my six-year-old nephew, Cade, to the Ranger Game about three weeks ago.  Cade has been to several Fort Worth Cats games with my brother, but he had never been to a Ranger Game before.  I think it was all a little overwhelming for him.  He seemed to really get into it for the first couple of innings, and was asking Jav all kinds of baseball questions.  Then he started asking the proverbial kid questions - "When are we going to eat?"  "When are we going to walk around?"  "Can we meet the mascot."  "How long do we have to stay?"  After that, his attention on the game came and went, but we were able to have a pretty good time through the middle of the sixth inning (when the ever-exciting Dot Races take place).  

Gabriel seems content as long as he is eating or flirting with other fans.  We got food and drinks on the way before we got there, and Sundays are $1 ice creams for the kids days.  So even though we all ate too much, it didn't leave a big gaping hole in our wallet.  I guess in my head I had thoughts of inspiring a life-long love of baseball in Cade due to our experience at the game, so I was just a little disappointed afterwards when he seemed happy to be heading home.  I need to learn to not have unrealistic expectations when it comes to kids.  Especially for Gabriel's sake.

Clingy vs. Independent: A happy medium?

I read all the books when I had Gabriel about getting him to sleep in his own bed, when to start taking away bottles, how to get him to go to sleep on his own.  And we followed all of this pretty closely.  The result is that we have one extremely independent child on our hands.  

As long as it's his idea to do things, he's happy.  If you try to force things on him, he gets mad.  If he picks out a toy, that's ok.  If you suggest a toy, or a book, he gives us his "I don't think so" yowl and kicks his feet in protest (if he's sitting down).  If you try to help him say a word, he downright gets so mad you think he might throw something at you.  The only song he lets me sing without protest is "Sing, sing a song...".  For some reason, this song calms him and he seems to always enjoy hearing it, no matter what mood he is in.  

The last time we went to Fredericksburg with my my Mom, I tried picking him up from the Pack N Play and letting him sleep with me in the bed for a little while in the mornings.  He couldn't get comfortable with someone else in the bed.  Finally, when all I had was one arm barely draped over him, he fell back asleep.   A couple of times I've tried to get him to take naps with me in our guest bedroom, but he just can't settle down unless he's by himself.  

I'm glad he's independent.  And he is still a very loving child, loving to give hugs and kisses all the time to everybody in the family.  But every once in awhile it would be nice to cuddle up with him and take a nap.  That's when I wouldn't mind a little more clinginess.

The game of summer

My neighbor, Helen, had her family over on the Fourth.  We saw them playing a rollicking game of croquet in her backyard, and it brought back so many memories.  My grandparents had an old croquet set that we played with for years every summer in their backyard.  My brother and I used to take turns making up our own courses, and in trying to outdo each other we had wickets going around trees and under shrubs.  But when we played with the adults, we stuck to a pretty tame course.  I remember I HATED it when my brother got to wallop my ball into kingdom come, which happened pretty often.  But I also remember how much fun we used to have in Mamaw and Bapaw's backyard.    

Playing croquet is so pleasing to the senses.  The dulled color of the balls and the stripes on your matching mallet.  The wonderful sound the mallet makes when it hits the ball.  The feel of the slightly scratched wooden balls in your hand and the cool grass under your feet as you wait to start another game (croquet is best played barefoot).  The taste of a glass of cold lemonade in-between games, which during play was safely tucked away under their Adirondack chairs so a stray ball wouldn't knock it over.  

I've got to search for a slightly used set.  Having a brand new set just wouldn't be quite right.

Fabulous 4th of July

We really enjoyed the 4th yesterday.  First off, we decided to sign up for the Optimist Club's program where they put a flag in your yard just after 7 am and pick it back up around 6 for five holidays during the year.  This was our first one, and the flag looked so pretty flying in front of our house.  

Around 10, we put Gabriel in the stroller and walked the few blocks over to watch our annual neighborhood 4th of July parade.  It was longer than last year, with about 30 cars and motorcycles and pedestrians, all decorated in their red, white and blue finest.  Gabriel's favorite part was the fire truck at the end.  I thought he was going to blow a gasket with excitement.  We then walked down to our neighborhood park to have hot dogs, chips, cookies and lemonade.It was really cool walking through our neighborhood and seeing how many people were gathered outside their houses to watch the parade.  There were big groups of people in lawn chairs, sitting out with their dogs and visiting, all along the route.  It made me really proud to live where we live.  

After eating, they announced the winners for best decorated vehicles, thanked the organizers, and we made the long, hot walk home.  We were so wiped out when we got home, we all three took a nap.  Then I was off to grocery shop, then we did our patriotic duty by heading out to the mall.  We decided Gabriel's too small still to go see any fireworks, so we headed home for dinner and pretty much called it a day.  But it was a really fun day! 

 

Relaxing TV

  Robert Plant and Alison Kraus on  Crossroads.

Chefs going head-to-head on Iron Chef America

 Lately, all I want to watch on TV are cooking shows and music shows.  I guess it's partly because none of the dramas I watch have new shows out right now.  But it's also because I don't like to get tense during my two hours of mind-numbing de-stressing every night.  

My favorite cooking shows are all on Food Network - The Next Food Network Star, Ace of Cakes and Iron Chef America.  The Next Food Network Star is kind of silly.  They are asking the contestants to cook meals for lots of people in almost no time, and it's just a cheap way to get drama into the show.  I would rather see them have more time, so I can learn something.  But I'm hooked anyway.  

Ace of Cakes is about Chef Duff, a totally cool, rock and roll loving skilled welder and master cake designer, and his Charm City Cakes business in Baltimore, Maryland.  Each show is a week's worth of cake orders, how Duff and his staff go about designing and putting the cakes together, and the stress of delivering these fragile masterpieces.  It seems like it might be boring, but the personalities of Duff and his staff are hilarious and are really what make the show.  

Iron Chef America puts two well-known chefs head to head.  They supposedly find out the secret ingredient and then have one hour (along with two sous chefs each) to come up with 5 gourmet dishes that showcase the secret ingredient.  This show started out in Japan (I think), but I never watched it because the secret ingredients always grossed me out (stuff like octopus or fish eyes or something).  But the American version doesn't always use such exotic ingredients.  It's always dramatic, wonderfully campy, fascinating to watch, and makes me hungry at the end.  

Our music shows are Crossroads on CMT, Soundstage and Austin City Limits, both on PBS.  

Crossroads has been on awhile, but we've just recently caught onto it's greatness.  It puts two artists together, one from the country world and one from some other genre, and they sing each other's hits.  This is truly an amazing show no matter who is on it (the only one I haven't liked that much was Kid Rock and Hank Williams, Jr., neither of I can stand).  The best ones we've watched were Lyle Lovett and Bonnie Raitt, LeAnn Rimes and Joss Stone, and Alison Krauss and Robert Plant.    

Austin City Limits has been on forever, and sometimes the guests can't hold my interest, but it's always good to at least check part of it out.  The recent ones that stick out in my mind are Coldplay and Juanes (a Columbian hottie whose music is even hotter).  I have R.E.M. taped but haven't been in the right mind to watch them yet.

We kept catching Soundstage while channel surfing and have decided to add it to our DVR regulars.  This is really weird to me, because both shows we watched were people I would have never thought I'd get into.  The first was Dan Fogelberg, which they replayed just after he passed away.   I couldn't believe how many songs I knew!  The same thing happened last night when we caught REO Speedwagon.  I groaned when we first turned it on, but I ended up really enjoying it.  Of course, the bad part is that I've had "Keep On Lovin' You", one of the silliest rock anthems ever written, in my head ALL DAY LONG.  But I'm kind of excited to see who turns up next.  I'm learning that as I get older, I'm a little surprised at what I'm liking musically.  

Lake Where?

Jav and I got to get away for two days and nights early last week.  We had decided to try a lake house, and I really intended to get a little more into East Texas and the pine trees.  We picked a beautiful spot on Lake Tawakoni, which is only about an hour outside of Dallas.  We packed up the car like we were leaving for two weeks, dropped off Gabriel at Jav's parents' house, and headed East (just barely).  When we drove into the gates of our hosts' private property, it was one of the few times in life where the expectations meet up with the reality.  It was right on the water, surrounded by trees and nature.  

We were thinking of driving around the lake for lunch one of our days, but we ended up parking ourselves there until we headed back home.  We could have checked out the lake in the paddle boat provided for guests.  We could have fished (Tawakoni is considered one of the best but unknown places to fish in Texas).  But it just seemed like too much effort.  I had a little trouble with guilt over leaving Gabriel, and just plain missing him, but after we called the first morning and he seemed to be having a blast I was able to relax more.    

We had two great dinners (steaks one night, rosemary chicken the next), with sides purchased at a local Farmer's Market on the way there.  We had a huge breakfast the first day, and lunched on sandwiches, salt and vinegar chips and coconut macaroons.  We took naps.  We actually watched whole movies at a time (four of them over our two-day stay).  We spent hours just sitting on our porch watching the cranes.  We read books.  We sat outside late at night listening to all the crazy insects and frogs and marveling at how many stars are actually in the sky.  In other words, we successfully and completely de-stressed and chilled out.  It was great.

It was something we will, I'm sure, need to do again.  The website for our cabin is www.cottageonlaketawaloni.com.

Never-ending yard projects

I really wanted to work on this neglected corner.  The cannas were there when we moved in, but have never been tended to.  

I added a border, planted a few more canna bulbs, moved my potted bougainvillea, added a small water dish for the birds, and our broken St. Francis statue---and it looks so much better!  Next year I will add a few elephant ears in the back corner and some day lilies out front.  We have so many new birds drinking from the water dish and from the tiny bowl on the St. Francis statue.

I had dug out this bed in the front yard a few months ago when we were getting torrential rain showers, but then never finished it.  It was covered with weeds so I decided to take action.  I bordered it and planted lots of different shades of lantana, and have seen several butterflies landing on the blooms already.

This started out as Stanley's memorial garden, but we've decided to make it our pet memorial garden.  I had already planted the clematis vine and the Turk's cap last year, and then added caladium bulbs at the end of May.  The amazing thing about this garden is the Turk's cap.  I planted six plants last fall, and thought only two were going to come back.  See the tiny green clump in the sun (to the left of the caladium)?  That's a new Turk's cap that broke through the ground the day after Henry died.  It gives me goose bumps (the good kind) every time I look at it.

And finally, construction has started on Phase II of our path project.  I marked out the border the first day, and have been digging out grass in small sections every other day (it's just too hot when Gabriel is napping to do more, or to get out there every day).  I plan to be done with this part at the end of next week, then we'll put down the plastic and start laying the border.  

I've become a little obsessed about the yard.  The better it looks the more I want to get out there and work every day.  It's amazing to me how little money we've spent and how much better it looks.  I would love to do this for a living some day, and maybe with all of this practice I won't be considered an amateur anymore.

Unforgettable moments

There are so many moments you want to capture as your child matures.  It's easy to get the really big moments on film, either pictures or video, like birthdays or the first steps.  The hardest part is to try to get everyday moments saved somehow.  In just the last week, Gabriel has done so many new things and I know I'm not going to remember all of them.  I thought I would just mention a few so when I go back and read this I can smile.

He has just learned to differentiate between circles, squares and triangles.  He has a set of blocks with the lid cutout with all three shapes, and I've always helped him put them away before.  All of a sudden, he can do it without any help.  

After helping him do the hand parts to Itsy Bitsy Spider for about 5 or 6 months, he did it on his own for the first time after dinner last Friday night.  He likes to do it just like I taught him, three times with each time faster and faster.  We did manage to get this on video.

He has started saying hi and waving to people all over the place.  Then when we walk away, he waves and says bye-bye.  In a really cute high pitched voice, like a teletubbie says bye-bye.

After a couple of weeks of chanting "mama" all the time, all over the house, he has finally decided to start recognizing his "dada" too.  Just in time for Father's Day!   But it's funny how different he says the two words.  Mama is always said really fast, and usually loud.  Dada comes out much more slowly and deliberately, and quieter.  It might just be because it's a little harder for him to say.  But the funny thing is that it actually mirrors me and Jav's personalities.  I'm frenetic and loud, Jav is calmer and quieter.  Kind of funny.

Last Saturday afternoon, we were getting ready for Mass.  Jav was talking to me as I was finishing my makeup, and we weren't paying that much attention to Gabriel.  All of a sudden we realized he was going back a forth between us, hugging our legs and giving us big sloppy kisses on our knees, over and over again.  It was just the sweetest moment, one of those where you thank God that your child turned out to be so warm and loving.

So that's my little Gabriel diary.  Thanks to all three people who read this for indulging me.  (Even though I know Mamaw won't be too bored by it).

The eye of the tiger

It's been a week since I lost Henry, and I've had some time to reflect on what made him the most awesome cat on the planet.  

He had what some would consider a disability, especially since he lost his sight when he was around one year old.  But he never, ever let it slow him down.  He had an amazing ability to map out spaces in his head, so much so that he could hide from me in the house or outside.  I can't count the times I thought he had gotten out of the house or yard, only to find that he had figured out another foolproof place to hide.  How he knew that he was camouflaged will always remain a mystery to me.

Supposedly, blind animals don't like to climb or get into high places.  Henry didn't know this fact, and loved to get up into the top of our scratch posts, and to climb on top of things outside.  As long as he could feel his way up, he would try.  Sometimes he'd try even when he couldn't scale it.  I'm thinking about the propane tank at the old house.  Being round, he couldn't scale it.  He eventually let curiosity get the best of him and jumped on top of it.  And the courage it took to leap back down from these places when he had no idea what was below is something that will continue to inspire courage in me for the rest of my life.

When you watched him prowling around in the yard, it was like watching a tiger (although somewhat smaller).  Maybe it was because he was a short-haired cat, but you could see every muscle when he walked.  His hunting ability was uncanny, since he only had smell and sound to guide him.  (Cats hunt with their eyes above all else).  I loved watching him run at top speed around the yard to successfully nab a locust.  He even liked to hone his skills at night.  If I left out small stuffed toys, he would hunt and find them, then start yowling.  We will never know if the yowling was to let us or the other cats know about his conquest.  His yowling sounded just like a crying baby.  Jav and I had only been dating about two months when he heard Henry yowl for the first time.  He looked absolutely shocked that I was hiding a baby somewhere in the house.   Henry would also take the toys and drop them where we could see.  After Gabriel was born he started leaving all his toy conquests in his room, which I thought was so cool.  

Henry had all that bravery and wildness, but he loved to cuddle up with you, sometimes for hours.  He was truly the best things about cats all rolled up into one.  He had the eye of the tiger, and the soul of a cuddly kitten.  

I had a friend at work who claimed to love animals.  But she only owned one dog when she was in high school that got heart worms and died.  She said the pain was just too much to put herself through again.  I never understood this.  The pain is awful when you lose a pet, but there are always so many more needing homes that will provide them love.  And think of all the things I would have never learned about dealing with blindness, or courage, or heart if I had not brought Henry into my life.  

 

       

The cure for all that ails you

I'm always saying that laughter is the best medicine.  It was proven to me again last night.  We went to see Eddie Izzard at the Majestic last night.  It was a little over two hours of almost non-stop belly laughing.  And all the stress from this past week started to melt away.  I could actually feel it leaving my body as the show went on.  And I slept like a baby (although only for about 5 hours or so), for the first time in a long time.  But I'm really not here to talk about me.

This man has perhaps the most brilliant mind in history (and he's incredibly sexy too).  His intelligence never ceases to amaze me.  Of course, his audience has to be up there too to follow him, and even then it just makes your brain tired every now and then.  The show was mainly about religion, and sort of poking fun of different beliefs in a tasteful and respectful way.  He did this by throwing in tons of history, starting all the way back with the beginning of the planet.  I'm going to try to describe my favorite parts of the show, edited of course.  Otherwise I'd do my longest blog post in history.

There's really no evidence that dinosaurs went to church.  (this was a physical routine of what it would be like if they did, with hand shaking and squeezing into pews and hymn singing.)

How he thinks biblical figures like Noah did actually exist, but he probably only took his own livestock with him on the boat.  (this was a physical routine of Noah's poor wife trying to figure out where to put everything from giant squids to all the different types of spiders, and almost having a nervous breakdown).

This led to a tangent discussion (something Eddie is famous for) on how giraffes can't make any noise but coughing, so have to resort to charades to warn others of a tiger.  And about the fact that the only place giraffes have to hide is behind other giraffes, so if you see one standing on the African Sahara, there are probably 100 more crouching behind him.  

The wonder over how the Romans, with all their penchant for military prowess, were held back by the complexity of the Latin language.  Especially in tense situations when people started invading, and the messengers were struggling to find the right verb tense.

I really could go on, and on, and on with a never ending list of wonderful and funny parts to the show.  It's impossible to write how funny the man is.  His facials expressions and physicality are what make the show, so he is a dish best enjoyed live, or at least on a DVD.  (And did I mention I think he's dishy?)  He'll all of a sudden be inspired by a new idea and start thinking out loud about working on it for future shows.  Comic genius working right in front of your eyes.  The evening was a dream come true for me, one that I really needed after this long, hard week.  And one I will be remembering and laughing about for probably the rest of my life.  

Unanswerable questions

I'm trying to quiet my head from all the "why"s floating around inside.  

Why did Henry get so sick, so fast, when he's always been such a healthy cat?

Why were there so many things that happened over the past few months that gave me good reasons for Henry's changes in behavior?  I moved one of the cat scratch posts from his favorite room, the front office, back to our bedroom.  He seemed a little mad about it, and may have been at first.  But then the reason he didn't climb to the top anymore was apparently because it was too hard physically.  Also, I changed the cats' food a month ago, which is why I thought he was losing a little weight.  I thought he was mad because I cut out the canned food altogether.  

Why did I let myself get so busy that I didn't see how sick he was?  Although Jav and I have figured out that he really only started to get really thin and slow down over the last three weeks, why didn't I take him in then?  

Why didn't we read up on kidney removal to find that the kidney is one of the most delicate organs to remove due to all the attached blood vessels.  Would this have made us decide to use a specialist instead of Dr. Norris?  Jav and I both still think we would have wanted him to do the surgery.  We know he would never have offered to do it if he felt he wasn't qualified, and that he feels just as awful about what happened as we do, and we wouldn't have gotten that empathy from a specialist.

So many questions, and it really doesn't matter what the answers are.  Maybe that's just the way I am trying to deal with my loss.  One of the only things I feel good about today is the fact that I decided to start letting Henry go back outside last year.  He was allowed out at the old house, but when we moved here we decided to make him stay inside because he seemed to get obsessive about going out.  After a year of living here, I just couldn't take his sulking anymore and started letting him out again.  He truly was happiest in life when he was outside, and got to spend alot of time in the backyard.  My last happy memory of him will be looking out my kitchen window and seeing him laying under our biggest oak tree Monday night, sniffing all the fun scents in the air and listening to the birds as they ate their evening meal.  I really didn't want to bring him in that night, he looked so content.

I was just reading one of my Yoga Journal articles about dealing with grief, and I saw this passage that is helping me to feel a little better for the moment:  "Every life has an arc - however prolonged or truncated - and every soul has a path."  Henry seemed pretty happy until just recently, and his path was a rich and full one.  And he made my path SO much better for having him in my life.  That's what I'll have to think about to get me through this sadness.

Sadness

Henry didn't make it. When my phone started ringing at 10:30 I knew it was bad news. Dr. Norris had checked on him at 8: 30 and he seemed to be doing pretty good. Then he went back at 10 and he had passed away. I had really started to get my hopes up, and feel like I'm living in a horrible nightmare. We've lost three bright lights in this house in less than a year, but Henry's went out way too soon. The pain is really too much for me right now. He was the bravest soul I knew.

Surgery today

Henry update:  (8pm)  He made it out of the surgery, but is still in very critical condition.  Dr. Norris removed his left kidney, which was attached to a huge tissue mass.  He sent it off to be biopsied and won't have the results back for several days.  Dr. Norris said he didn't see signs of tumors or irregularities on any of the nearby organs, although his spleen looked a little discolored.  Alot of Henry's blood vessels had attached themselves to the mass, so Dr. Norris had to cut them and close them back up again (sorry I don't remember the medical terms).  The danger is that having such a large mass removed from his insides (and one that had sort of become a part of him) might send him into shock.  So far his heartbeat is strong, and he was starting to come out of the anesthesia at 6.  Dr. Norris was going to check on him several times during the night, but was hopeful that at this point Henry would make it until morning.  Then we have to wait to see if he starts to get stronger tomorrow.  At least the first goal, making it out of the surgery, has been made.  Now we wait and keep praying.

************************************************************************************  

Henry goes in to have his kidney removed today.  He has still been eating some the last few days, although about half or less what he usually eats.  He hasn't been moving around much, just getting up to come and eat and go outside.  Once outside, he doesn't prowl the yard like normal, but just picks a nice spot somewhere in the yard and camps out.  Ever since he was little, I've carried him over one shoulder, and he feels so light and bony compared to the big, husky cat I'm used to holding.  We have just been blindsided by how fast this has come up.  We think it's only been about a month that we noticed he had lost weight, and I keep telling myself that if I had any inkling it was something this serious, of course I would have taken him sooner.  But I'm still having a pretty big battle with guilt right now.

This will be a massive surgery, and I hope he has the strength to pull through.  And of course, I hope Dr. Norris doesn't get in there and find that things are much worse than we thought.  I keep thinking about the early months of Henry's life, when he was found starving and dehydrated by the Eastern Hills High School field house with his sister.  She didn't make it, but Henry proved to be a fighter.  I know he still has that fight in him, but I hope it's enough to fight through all of this.  I'm praying for a miracle.