Friday, April 20, 2007
Meet the new boss. Same as the old boss.
It's been a week of repeats, all of them good!
Last weekend I got the Austin itch again and zoomed off to the Capitol City to test the tread on Lime Creek Road. Nothing to get your blood pumping like running 15mph hairpins at 45mph while The Black Dog smiles like a maniac. And again, I can't recommend the chicken verde enchiladas at Kerby too strongly. Nice visit with The Bro. He keeps saying "It feels like you live here and we get to hang out! I know you want to move here. That's how I ended up in Manhattan."
I do love Austin but I wonder if I would like it so much if I had to get up and go to work or do laundry up there all the time.
The best the scrumdiddlyumptious best part of the week was The Cult Leader. The train rides again. My six months of slovenly sweet unemployment has ended with the most perfect resolution. This Monday I started my new job, and I am beyond blessed that it is once again working with my Cult Leader. We make such an awesome team. She calls me her security blanket. I can't see how that is true - I feel so strongly that it is the other way around. How can a person not feel truly loved and wanted when her boss seeks her out and creates three count them three jobs in a row over a nine year period just so the two of you can work together again. Me loves my Cult Leader. Even if she does keep making me get up in the morning.
It's been a week of repeats, all of them good!
Last weekend I got the Austin itch again and zoomed off to the Capitol City to test the tread on Lime Creek Road. Nothing to get your blood pumping like running 15mph hairpins at 45mph while The Black Dog smiles like a maniac. And again, I can't recommend the chicken verde enchiladas at Kerby too strongly. Nice visit with The Bro. He keeps saying "It feels like you live here and we get to hang out! I know you want to move here. That's how I ended up in Manhattan."
I do love Austin but I wonder if I would like it so much if I had to get up and go to work or do laundry up there all the time.
The best the scrumdiddlyumptious best part of the week was The Cult Leader. The train rides again. My six months of slovenly sweet unemployment has ended with the most perfect resolution. This Monday I started my new job, and I am beyond blessed that it is once again working with my Cult Leader. We make such an awesome team. She calls me her security blanket. I can't see how that is true - I feel so strongly that it is the other way around. How can a person not feel truly loved and wanted when her boss seeks her out and creates three count them three jobs in a row over a nine year period just so the two of you can work together again. Me loves my Cult Leader. Even if she does keep making me get up in the morning.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Camping on the Frio. This is Trace and his faithful companion (who can work up a massive amount of doggy drool in his jowls - ewwww) Champ. I've never camped with a seven year old boy and a dog. I'd take them both again. Good company!
And of course, this being Texas, we stopped at Bucees in Luling for the best fudge in the world. I thought I would share some of the most snazzy interior design products available at this fine, fine institution.
And of course, this being Texas, we stopped at Bucees in Luling for the best fudge in the world. I thought I would share some of the most snazzy interior design products available at this fine, fine institution.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
So! Camping. This is our second time at Garner State Park. The state of Texas has a great state park system and The Husband and I have enjoyed many of them. Garner happens to have been our second choice for the location of our wedding - there is a pavilion there with a beautiful outdoor circular dance floor with an inlaid stone design that hovers over the edge of the Frio River. We ended up going with our first choice, outside of Fort Davis on Blue Mountain, and we are glad we did. But I digress.
We left Houston on Monday. How many ways can I describe rain? Drizzle. Splashsplash. WOOOSH go the 18 wheelers at 90mph in a 70mph zone where they should actually be going 50mph because visibility is only about 4 feet. RAINHARDRAIN. I-10 is so much fun in a torrential thunderstorm. Oh, did I tell you it was raining? And we had a tent? And plans to sleep in a tent? In the woods? WITH THE RAIN? Yeah, we were amazed at our brilliance, too.
Past San Antonio. Gee. It is still wet. Wet as in hail. Hard hail. Is all hail hard? In my experience, yes. It seems harder when it is hitting the hood of your husband's shiny car, which he thinks should remain show-room new looking until it dies at 300,000 miles. So there is a little stress in the Honda.
Into Hondo. Damned that's a nice town. Mainly because the people are nice. Just a little rain. BUT STILL, rain. Leaving Hondo, I remark to The Husband that it would be nice to live in a town where the people are so nice. He remarks that Hondo has a large, active Christian influence. I remark back that this isn't necessarily a bad thing. I go on to observe that an active Christian community can result in fewer flip offs in traffic (which by the way, there isn't any traffic in Hondo), less murder, rape, and mayhem. Less spitting of chewed gum onto sidewalks. The Husband remarks that in order to fit into such a community one would have to not be a hoyden. He says this implying that I would not fit into such a community. I remind him that I gave up my hoyden days almost two decades ago, about the same time I gave up wearing black suede come-fuck-me pumps and going without underwear. He just looks at me knowingly. I would have kicked him if my knee still worked so I could move my leg that way in a moving car.
Passing through Sabinal, the heavens open and the glorious God's bright sunshine greets us, shining through a Columbia blue sky with friendly white puffy clouds. Yeah, we're camping damned it. And you can't stop us!
We have a camping strategy. We camp in the spring and in the fall. Now, we haven't camped since the accident so I am special happy happy about this trip. In the spring we always plan adventure for the week after spring break and before Easter. Our experience has proven that during this time, state parks are damned near empty. Garner has about 350 sites for tent campers and vehicle campers. It's a big park. It is bordered by the loveliest quite little river, the Frio (yes, it lives up to its name). We trolled the park deciding which site we wanted. We counted about 20 sites in the entire park in use. WE LOVE THAT! We chose Live Oak and damned if we didn't choose the best site in the park. There were three other campers in this area, all grouped way far away from us, all Winnebago people who were traveling together. So basically we had the whole damned place to ourselves.
For three days. Until God came back with the rain. Yeah, you remember the rain, right? AS IN WET? IN A TENT? On Wednesday afternoon the park host came over to check on us.
"How you folks doing?"
"Great!"
"You know the RAIN is gonna come back tonight?"
"No, we aren't listening to anything. Didn't bring a radio or a phone."
"Well they say it's going to be bad starting about midnight and then it will be really bad all night and then tomorrow, well, maybe you folks want to break camp tonight. Seeing as how ya'll are in a tent and all."
HEY. We have driven to Alaska. We have dodged black bears on the road, survived 18 wheelers loaded with fresh trees hurtling down the Cassiar as if the devil was chasing them when in truth they just really wanted a hot cup of coffee, navigated the Maw Of Hell in California, made in rain in Death Valley. You think we're afraid of a little wet? WE DON'T NEED NO STINKIN' WET. Oh, wait, that doesn't make sense.
Let's just say that I learned something about myself on this trip. I learned that I should be ashamed of all those years I made fun of people who live in mobile homes when tornadoes come. I learned that people who live in Coleman tents when tornadoes come are more better stupider.
We left Houston on Monday. How many ways can I describe rain? Drizzle. Splashsplash. WOOOSH go the 18 wheelers at 90mph in a 70mph zone where they should actually be going 50mph because visibility is only about 4 feet. RAINHARDRAIN. I-10 is so much fun in a torrential thunderstorm. Oh, did I tell you it was raining? And we had a tent? And plans to sleep in a tent? In the woods? WITH THE RAIN? Yeah, we were amazed at our brilliance, too.
Past San Antonio. Gee. It is still wet. Wet as in hail. Hard hail. Is all hail hard? In my experience, yes. It seems harder when it is hitting the hood of your husband's shiny car, which he thinks should remain show-room new looking until it dies at 300,000 miles. So there is a little stress in the Honda.
Into Hondo. Damned that's a nice town. Mainly because the people are nice. Just a little rain. BUT STILL, rain. Leaving Hondo, I remark to The Husband that it would be nice to live in a town where the people are so nice. He remarks that Hondo has a large, active Christian influence. I remark back that this isn't necessarily a bad thing. I go on to observe that an active Christian community can result in fewer flip offs in traffic (which by the way, there isn't any traffic in Hondo), less murder, rape, and mayhem. Less spitting of chewed gum onto sidewalks. The Husband remarks that in order to fit into such a community one would have to not be a hoyden. He says this implying that I would not fit into such a community. I remind him that I gave up my hoyden days almost two decades ago, about the same time I gave up wearing black suede come-fuck-me pumps and going without underwear. He just looks at me knowingly. I would have kicked him if my knee still worked so I could move my leg that way in a moving car.
Passing through Sabinal, the heavens open and the glorious God's bright sunshine greets us, shining through a Columbia blue sky with friendly white puffy clouds. Yeah, we're camping damned it. And you can't stop us!
We have a camping strategy. We camp in the spring and in the fall. Now, we haven't camped since the accident so I am special happy happy about this trip. In the spring we always plan adventure for the week after spring break and before Easter. Our experience has proven that during this time, state parks are damned near empty. Garner has about 350 sites for tent campers and vehicle campers. It's a big park. It is bordered by the loveliest quite little river, the Frio (yes, it lives up to its name). We trolled the park deciding which site we wanted. We counted about 20 sites in the entire park in use. WE LOVE THAT! We chose Live Oak and damned if we didn't choose the best site in the park. There were three other campers in this area, all grouped way far away from us, all Winnebago people who were traveling together. So basically we had the whole damned place to ourselves.
For three days. Until God came back with the rain. Yeah, you remember the rain, right? AS IN WET? IN A TENT? On Wednesday afternoon the park host came over to check on us.
"How you folks doing?"
"Great!"
"You know the RAIN is gonna come back tonight?"
"No, we aren't listening to anything. Didn't bring a radio or a phone."
"Well they say it's going to be bad starting about midnight and then it will be really bad all night and then tomorrow, well, maybe you folks want to break camp tonight. Seeing as how ya'll are in a tent and all."
HEY. We have driven to Alaska. We have dodged black bears on the road, survived 18 wheelers loaded with fresh trees hurtling down the Cassiar as if the devil was chasing them when in truth they just really wanted a hot cup of coffee, navigated the Maw Of Hell in California, made in rain in Death Valley. You think we're afraid of a little wet? WE DON'T NEED NO STINKIN' WET. Oh, wait, that doesn't make sense.
Let's just say that I learned something about myself on this trip. I learned that I should be ashamed of all those years I made fun of people who live in mobile homes when tornadoes come. I learned that people who live in Coleman tents when tornadoes come are more better stupider.
Labels: husband, texas, vacation
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
So The Husband and I are gearing up for a camping trip next week. I am Super Duper excited because I haven't been able to go camping since the accident. When we can't go camping we can't (legally) set stuff on fire. It has been a long dry spell.
Anyway, I'm driving home this afternoon thinking about how long it will take us to get to the camping site, and how early we need to leave to make sure we get the site we want. I'm coming up with a number that is obscenely early in the morning. So then I'm thinking road trip early in the morning. Then I'm thinking back to all the early morning road trips I took with my family when I was a kid.
We would leave New Orleans before the sun came up. Heading to Laurel or Jackson, Mississippi, sometimes to Crowley, Louisiana. Once to Florida. Boy do you have to get up early to drive to Florida.
Mother would wake us up just enough to get us to walk zombie like to the Bonneville. She would pile us all in the back seat (usually with one or two black Labradors) and we would hit the road. About the time the sun came up we would rise from the dead and demand food. Now remember, I'm ancient so this was before there was a McDonald's with a McGriddle on every corner so Mother always made Road Breakfasts to feed us until it was lunchtime. Lunchtime, of course, meant STUCKEY'S with those gross pecan logs that we had to have even though we always left them to melt under the front seats, and key chains with every one's real first name on them except, of course, my middle sister who had what at that time was an unusual name so she always got shafted.
It's nice to remember those childhood road breakfasts made by Mother's loving hands. She fried pattie sausage (Jimmy Dean, of course). She crumbled it. She mixed it into my grandmother's cast iron skillet with a ton of scrambled eggs and cooked it all to a gooey mess. She toasted WHITE BREAD, coated it with butter, and piled it high with the cholesterol/fat/grease mixture of egg and sausage and voila the breakfast sandwich was born in Gretna, Louisiana. Wrapped it all in tin foil and stuffed it in a paper bag.
We LOVED those breakfasts. I mean LOVED them. I think back on them now, the white bread, the butter, the fat, the cholesterol. The love. I just wish maybe just once maybe in her entire life she had bought a loaf a honey wheatberry bread.
Anyway, I'm driving home this afternoon thinking about how long it will take us to get to the camping site, and how early we need to leave to make sure we get the site we want. I'm coming up with a number that is obscenely early in the morning. So then I'm thinking road trip early in the morning. Then I'm thinking back to all the early morning road trips I took with my family when I was a kid.
We would leave New Orleans before the sun came up. Heading to Laurel or Jackson, Mississippi, sometimes to Crowley, Louisiana. Once to Florida. Boy do you have to get up early to drive to Florida.
Mother would wake us up just enough to get us to walk zombie like to the Bonneville. She would pile us all in the back seat (usually with one or two black Labradors) and we would hit the road. About the time the sun came up we would rise from the dead and demand food. Now remember, I'm ancient so this was before there was a McDonald's with a McGriddle on every corner so Mother always made Road Breakfasts to feed us until it was lunchtime. Lunchtime, of course, meant STUCKEY'S with those gross pecan logs that we had to have even though we always left them to melt under the front seats, and key chains with every one's real first name on them except, of course, my middle sister who had what at that time was an unusual name so she always got shafted.
It's nice to remember those childhood road breakfasts made by Mother's loving hands. She fried pattie sausage (Jimmy Dean, of course). She crumbled it. She mixed it into my grandmother's cast iron skillet with a ton of scrambled eggs and cooked it all to a gooey mess. She toasted WHITE BREAD, coated it with butter, and piled it high with the cholesterol/fat/grease mixture of egg and sausage and voila the breakfast sandwich was born in Gretna, Louisiana. Wrapped it all in tin foil and stuffed it in a paper bag.
We LOVED those breakfasts. I mean LOVED them. I think back on them now, the white bread, the butter, the fat, the cholesterol. The love. I just wish maybe just once maybe in her entire life she had bought a loaf a honey wheatberry bread.
Labels: accident, personal urban drama, vacation
Thursday, March 15, 2007
OK. Time for the conversation I overheard in Austin this weekend. I'm standing in the backyard of the house where I'm staying. I am out there watching The Black Dog run around making friends with Roman, the huge red cutie pie that lives in said backyard. The Black Dog and Roman are Power Peeing which means that The Black Dog will approach a spot. He will smell it. He will wag his tail. He will turn sideways to the spot, lift his leg, and pee on the spot. Then he will happily trot off. Then Roman will go to the spot where The Black Dog just had a pee. Roman will smell the spot. His tail will wag. He will turn sideways, lift his leg, and pee on the same spot. Then he will happily trot off after The Black Dog. This can go on for hours. Where do they GET all that pee??
Anyway, I am standing there and I hear this voice coming over the fence from the neighboring back yard. It is a male voice, an old smoker's voice, a very agitated voice. I am hearing one side of the conversation. It is a LOUD, distressed, and aggressive side.
"Don't tell me you didn't do it!"
"I was there you son of a bitch! Don't tell me you didn't!!"
"What??"
"Don't give me that crap!"
"I WAS THERE!!!"
"I KNOW YOU KILLED HER!"
At this point I'm thinking "Holy shit!" and moving closer to the fence so I won't miss anything.
"Yes you DID. I SAW it!"
"Don't give me that composite drawing bullshit!"
"You bastard!"
"Yeah, well that's easy to say since you're DEAD."
At this point I realize the guy isn't talking on the phone with a murderer. At this point I have an urge to go see how many empty bottles of Mad Dog are in his garbage can. Austin is a one of a kind kind of place.
Anyway, I am standing there and I hear this voice coming over the fence from the neighboring back yard. It is a male voice, an old smoker's voice, a very agitated voice. I am hearing one side of the conversation. It is a LOUD, distressed, and aggressive side.
"Don't tell me you didn't do it!"
"I was there you son of a bitch! Don't tell me you didn't!!"
"What??"
"Don't give me that crap!"
"I WAS THERE!!!"
"I KNOW YOU KILLED HER!"
At this point I'm thinking "Holy shit!" and moving closer to the fence so I won't miss anything.
"Yes you DID. I SAW it!"
"Don't give me that composite drawing bullshit!"
"You bastard!"
"Yeah, well that's easy to say since you're DEAD."
At this point I realize the guy isn't talking on the phone with a murderer. At this point I have an urge to go see how many empty bottles of Mad Dog are in his garbage can. Austin is a one of a kind kind of place.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Dear Diary: March 13,2006.
Yesterday I wore at least 1/4 inch of tread off the sides of my tires tearing down 2222 and Lime Creek Road. Total switchbacks, major downgrades (oops there goes the stomach!), altitude changes that make you pop your ears. Three hours on the narrow twisty roads and barely got to 4th gear a few times. Forgot how sore and tired you can get clutching from 2nd to 3rd and trying to steer all at the same time while your tires grasp the edge of a road with a steep drop off and no guard rails. For THREE hours. I got back home, hot showered, swallowed a big Naproxen and slept 14 hours today. PER FECT. A little sunburn, a happy dog, and a WAY happy Miata owner. This is what the car is made for. Stopped at my favorite lunch counter in the Texaco just this side of Lago Vista. It's run by a family from El Salvador and let me tell you... if the drive wasn't so great it would still be worth it just for the tacos al pastor with a big pile of fresh cilantro and chopped onions.
Lots of rain and thunder today - perfect for sleeping curled up under a blanket with The Black Dog to keep my feet warm and all the windows open so I could hear the wrath of God thundering across the sky and flooding Shoal Creek outside. Woke up now and then, ate something, went back to bed. I love Austin. Too bad no one else has the balls to ride in the car with me! It would be fun to hear all the screaming. Oh, and citywide free wifi rocks. AND Austin Java just delivered a mean cheeseburger and caesar salad...right to my door! The only thing they deliver in Houston is pizza and jury notices. I should move. Now if only 2 bedroom houses in bad neighborhoods didn't cost $300K. I'll tell you later about the psycho in the next door back yard who had alllllll these conversations I got to listen to whether I wanted to or not.
Yesterday I wore at least 1/4 inch of tread off the sides of my tires tearing down 2222 and Lime Creek Road. Total switchbacks, major downgrades (oops there goes the stomach!), altitude changes that make you pop your ears. Three hours on the narrow twisty roads and barely got to 4th gear a few times. Forgot how sore and tired you can get clutching from 2nd to 3rd and trying to steer all at the same time while your tires grasp the edge of a road with a steep drop off and no guard rails. For THREE hours. I got back home, hot showered, swallowed a big Naproxen and slept 14 hours today. PER FECT. A little sunburn, a happy dog, and a WAY happy Miata owner. This is what the car is made for. Stopped at my favorite lunch counter in the Texaco just this side of Lago Vista. It's run by a family from El Salvador and let me tell you... if the drive wasn't so great it would still be worth it just for the tacos al pastor with a big pile of fresh cilantro and chopped onions.
Lots of rain and thunder today - perfect for sleeping curled up under a blanket with The Black Dog to keep my feet warm and all the windows open so I could hear the wrath of God thundering across the sky and flooding Shoal Creek outside. Woke up now and then, ate something, went back to bed. I love Austin. Too bad no one else has the balls to ride in the car with me! It would be fun to hear all the screaming. Oh, and citywide free wifi rocks. AND Austin Java just delivered a mean cheeseburger and caesar salad...right to my door! The only thing they deliver in Houston is pizza and jury notices. I should move. Now if only 2 bedroom houses in bad neighborhoods didn't cost $300K. I'll tell you later about the psycho in the next door back yard who had alllllll these conversations I got to listen to whether I wanted to or not.
Labels: miata, texas, vacation
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Unpaid endorsement:
Are you like me? Do you get the itch to drop the lid and go buzz around in the hills with The Black Dog slobbering in the passenger seat, the wind blowing both of your ears back and both of you wearing goofy grins, grooving on Bob Wills, the Stones, and Dwight Yoakum?
Are you like me? Does this itch come on the SAME FREAKING WEEK every year, when the redbuds are blooming and the sun is warm, the breezes are sexy, and those who suffer from allergies are sniffling and sneezing hell and gone all over the place?
Are you like me? Too stupid to write it on next year's calendar that YES this will happen again and you should reserve lodging in January? Instead of waiting two or three days before you need to go? Since you always want to go the same week as SXSW??? Even though you have less than no interest in going to SXSW? But THAT IS WHERE THEY KEEP THE HILLS????
Be like me. Be BRILLIANT and resourceful. Think. Hmmmm. SXSW. Arts, creative, talented, young freaks (meant in only the best way) descending en mass upon my state capital for a week's worth of bacchanaling. Hmmm. College students. They always need money. And most of them need money to spend at ....SXSW! AND most of them will either be on Spring Break or volunteering/working/partying at SXSW!! Sleep where THEY live!
Here's the unpaid endorsement part (I know, you've been waiting. And wondering.) Craigslist! Woohoo!! I have achieved the impossible. I have nabbed an entire garage apartment for $55 a night (linens included, even) during the busiest week in Austin (except when we're inaugurating another idiot as governor, which we do like clockwork). In the heart of Austin. And not on a nasty freeway. Just around the corner from the Omlettry! Can you say...breakfast?? And there's even a nice big yard where The Black Dog can chase Austin squirrels after he climbs out of bed in the morning. SWEET.
Are you like me? Do you get the itch to drop the lid and go buzz around in the hills with The Black Dog slobbering in the passenger seat, the wind blowing both of your ears back and both of you wearing goofy grins, grooving on Bob Wills, the Stones, and Dwight Yoakum?
Are you like me? Does this itch come on the SAME FREAKING WEEK every year, when the redbuds are blooming and the sun is warm, the breezes are sexy, and those who suffer from allergies are sniffling and sneezing hell and gone all over the place?
Are you like me? Too stupid to write it on next year's calendar that YES this will happen again and you should reserve lodging in January? Instead of waiting two or three days before you need to go? Since you always want to go the same week as SXSW??? Even though you have less than no interest in going to SXSW? But THAT IS WHERE THEY KEEP THE HILLS????
Be like me. Be BRILLIANT and resourceful. Think. Hmmmm. SXSW. Arts, creative, talented, young freaks (meant in only the best way) descending en mass upon my state capital for a week's worth of bacchanaling. Hmmm. College students. They always need money. And most of them need money to spend at ....SXSW! AND most of them will either be on Spring Break or volunteering/working/partying at SXSW!! Sleep where THEY live!
Here's the unpaid endorsement part (I know, you've been waiting. And wondering.) Craigslist! Woohoo!! I have achieved the impossible. I have nabbed an entire garage apartment for $55 a night (linens included, even) during the busiest week in Austin (except when we're inaugurating another idiot as governor, which we do like clockwork). In the heart of Austin. And not on a nasty freeway. Just around the corner from the Omlettry! Can you say...breakfast?? And there's even a nice big yard where The Black Dog can chase Austin squirrels after he climbs out of bed in the morning. SWEET.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Best spam subject line in a long time. Rarely in life do you run across the proper useage of a semicolon, not to mention a spam subject line that not only is a complete sentence but also spelled correctly. Brings back wistful memories of my late teens. Laying on the beach on Boliver with Liz. An ice chest full of Bacardi and Coke, lots of "Sun In", oil field helicopters ferrying workers out to rigs, and trashy bodice rippers to read. Heroes named "Dirk", "Lance", and "Beau".
I prepared to flee, of course, but something stopped me - his look; proud and fierce, and yet strangely vulnerable and even wistful.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
A job. I've started to send out feelers and look around. As of now there are three that have caught my interest.
1. A nature conservancy. It's a local organization and it is centered around a chunk of land I've followed for about the last 20 years. Worthy cause, but since my background is in health and human services, I would miss seeing the faces of the kids. Don't know yet what the salary range is but I'm guessing it's on the low end because of its niche.
2. Services to children who are victims of sexual abuse. How the hell can you get a better mission than that? Salary is on the better end of my range. I have a friend from a former job who works there and she told me its an A+ organization. Having a friend on the inside to say good things about you never hurts. The drawback is the application process. It sometimes takes up to two months for the paperwork to go through.
3. Provides vital transport to folks who can't access critical medical care where they live. A very inspirational mission. On the less happy end of the salary range, but lots of autonomy and a very flexible schedule, including about half of the time being work from home. Hard to turn down a job that you can do in your underwear.
The pathetic part of all this is that I have two vacations planned for March already. For the first time since the accident, I will be camping with The Husband and another couple who we really like in late March. And the last week of March I am planning to go to North Carolina on a Cult trip to celebrate our Leader's birthday. So if I am offered any of these jobs and decide to take it, the first thing I'll have to do is tell them I need a week and a half off for vacation. Yeah, I'm a catch.
1. A nature conservancy. It's a local organization and it is centered around a chunk of land I've followed for about the last 20 years. Worthy cause, but since my background is in health and human services, I would miss seeing the faces of the kids. Don't know yet what the salary range is but I'm guessing it's on the low end because of its niche.
2. Services to children who are victims of sexual abuse. How the hell can you get a better mission than that? Salary is on the better end of my range. I have a friend from a former job who works there and she told me its an A+ organization. Having a friend on the inside to say good things about you never hurts. The drawback is the application process. It sometimes takes up to two months for the paperwork to go through.
3. Provides vital transport to folks who can't access critical medical care where they live. A very inspirational mission. On the less happy end of the salary range, but lots of autonomy and a very flexible schedule, including about half of the time being work from home. Hard to turn down a job that you can do in your underwear.
The pathetic part of all this is that I have two vacations planned for March already. For the first time since the accident, I will be camping with The Husband and another couple who we really like in late March. And the last week of March I am planning to go to North Carolina on a Cult trip to celebrate our Leader's birthday. So if I am offered any of these jobs and decide to take it, the first thing I'll have to do is tell them I need a week and a half off for vacation. Yeah, I'm a catch.
Labels: personal urban drama, vacation
Friday, December 29, 2006
I think at one point I may have talked about this before. I have more than my share of wonderlust. I remember the amazement I felt the first time I flew to Great Britain. We came in over Ireland low and at first I didn't realize that all those white dots in the middle of those Irish Green Fields were actually real live sheep. Delightful.
I remember how it felt the first time I stood on a mountain in Dillon, Colorado and was shocked that at 9,000 feet there was so damned little oxygen. I remember thinking how much more beautiful the Tetons are than the Rockies. I remember falling in love with the Smokeys when I was just a teenager. How perplexed I felt as a very young child that the white sands of Flordia are part of the same Gulf that produces the brown sands of Galveston. I am a person who will get in a truck and drive to the Arctic Circle just for fun.
So this morning I am faced with irony. I got out of bed and propped open the back door to enjoy the fresh air just before a thunderstorm. I sat in the living room and thought about breakfast. Then the church bells started. It reminded me that I grew up about half a mile south of those church bells and that when I was ready to buy my own house I came back to roost about half a mile north of those bells. This morning those bells are playing carols. Right now, it's Little Town of Bethlehem. Those are my home bells. Sweet.
I remember how it felt the first time I stood on a mountain in Dillon, Colorado and was shocked that at 9,000 feet there was so damned little oxygen. I remember thinking how much more beautiful the Tetons are than the Rockies. I remember falling in love with the Smokeys when I was just a teenager. How perplexed I felt as a very young child that the white sands of Flordia are part of the same Gulf that produces the brown sands of Galveston. I am a person who will get in a truck and drive to the Arctic Circle just for fun.
So this morning I am faced with irony. I got out of bed and propped open the back door to enjoy the fresh air just before a thunderstorm. I sat in the living room and thought about breakfast. Then the church bells started. It reminded me that I grew up about half a mile south of those church bells and that when I was ready to buy my own house I came back to roost about half a mile north of those bells. This morning those bells are playing carols. Right now, it's Little Town of Bethlehem. Those are my home bells. Sweet.
Labels: personal urban drama, vacation
Thursday, November 02, 2006
It's wedding anniversary time again. We're* retreating to a lovely little yellow beachhouse down on Boliver. I have a special talent for planning vacations and having one of two things happen. First, it usually rains. I swear. My husband and I got rained on in Death Valley. Twice. Second, if it doesn't rain (and sometimes even if it does) SOMETHING happens to be happening wherever we're going and I usually don't find out about it until I've already put down a non-refundable deposit. Often the something isn't a whole hell of a big deal for example, planning to go to Anahuac the same weekend as GatorFest.
But sometimes, just sometimes (thank all deities), the thing that is happening happens to include an estimated 300,000 yes THREE HUNDRED THOUSAND people riding HAWGS. Yes. I booked a romantic four day vacation on the Texas Gulf Coast for the same weekend that the Lone Star Rally will literally ROAR into town. And by town, I mean Galveston, Texas (the birth place of Barry White).
Galveston (the island) is on average about two miles wide and about 32 miles long. It's normal population is about 60,000. This weekend it will be 360,000. This might be poetic since the city of Galveston was second only to Ellis Island for the number of immigrants processed durring the whole Neil Diamond Coming to America thing. But you know what? They didn't come on motorcycles with glass packs.
This is a quote from the website of one of the vendors from last year in reference to their white palm cowboy hats:
Three observations:
* "We're" usually includes the Black Dog but this time he's being lovingly cared for at home. He loves it when his aunt comes to dog sit. He's too neurotic to kennel.
But sometimes, just sometimes (thank all deities), the thing that is happening happens to include an estimated 300,000 yes THREE HUNDRED THOUSAND people riding HAWGS. Yes. I booked a romantic four day vacation on the Texas Gulf Coast for the same weekend that the Lone Star Rally will literally ROAR into town. And by town, I mean Galveston, Texas (the birth place of Barry White).
Galveston (the island) is on average about two miles wide and about 32 miles long. It's normal population is about 60,000. This weekend it will be 360,000. This might be poetic since the city of Galveston was second only to Ellis Island for the number of immigrants processed durring the whole Neil Diamond Coming to America thing. But you know what? They didn't come on motorcycles with glass packs.
This is a quote from the website of one of the vendors from last year in reference to their white palm cowboy hats:
Tighten the Stampede Strap & it's a Texas motorcycle helmet.
It's the toughest, most resilient hat known to the American Cowboy! You can crush it, twist it and mash it into your saddlebag - then wet it, shape it and wear it dancin', to the gala, to the cook off -
Hell, wear it to bed - It's a kick ass hat!
Three observations:
1. MOTORCYLE HELMET?
2. Honest to GOD people here really do wear cowboy hats to galas. But they're usually black. That hats, not the people. Not that black people don't go to galas. They do. And even THEY sometimes wear cowboy hats. Also black.
3. I am sad to say I did once know a man who wore his hat to bed. And not to be sexy, either. Because it can be. Sometimes.
* "We're" usually includes the Black Dog but this time he's being lovingly cared for at home. He loves it when his aunt comes to dog sit. He's too neurotic to kennel.
Labels: husband, texas, vacation
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
The Husband and I, in a gas guzzling SUV, driving through La Grange, Texas.
Him: Look! A junction!
Me: Is it a conjunction junction?
Him: No...
Me: Well then what's its function?
Him: And the creators of School House Rock cried.
Him: Look! A junction!
Me: Is it a conjunction junction?
Him: No...
Me: Well then what's its function?
Him: And the creators of School House Rock cried.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
I am sitting in a rocking chair with my feet stuck up on a deck rail, my fancy new HP 17" widescreen balanced on my thighs. The rocking chair is on a wood deck painted screaming purple. The deck is on the back of a cabin (also purple, but with patches of aqua and canary yellow thrown in so it can be seen from space). The cabin is hanging off the side of a limestone hill just west of Austin near Bee Cave. There are juniper bushes and mesquite trees as far as the eye can see. There are three Mockingbirds that have been having a serious discussion for the last 20 minutes about who actually does have the right to be the biggest baddest bird on the shale pile about 15 feet down the cliff. It would be hot if not for the comfort a two ceiling fans whirling above me and a cold Negro Modelo on the table at my side.
I've just renewed my domain here at Ain't Chicken for another year. I did it just now, here on the deck, online, using a credit card.
This morning at 3:30am I called my husband (while driving on a twisty, steep, dark, remote, only slightly familiar, wet road) on the cell to tell him I was on my way back from Austin and would be with him soon.
I have become such a hypocrite. When I was 16 I was yelling at my mother because she wouldn't let me go join the protesters down at the South Texas Nuclear Project.
Now I sit here as an active member of a cashless society who talks on a cell phone while driving and pays her bills from the woods in the Hill Country on a wireless computer.
When my mother was a young girl, she and HER mother made their own lye soap off the back of their wooden house in an iron kettle over a wood fire, just inside the fence from the cow pasture and across the yard from the outhouse.
OK. Maybe progress isn't ALL bad.
I've just renewed my domain here at Ain't Chicken for another year. I did it just now, here on the deck, online, using a credit card.
This morning at 3:30am I called my husband (while driving on a twisty, steep, dark, remote, only slightly familiar, wet road) on the cell to tell him I was on my way back from Austin and would be with him soon.
I have become such a hypocrite. When I was 16 I was yelling at my mother because she wouldn't let me go join the protesters down at the South Texas Nuclear Project.
Now I sit here as an active member of a cashless society who talks on a cell phone while driving and pays her bills from the woods in the Hill Country on a wireless computer.
When my mother was a young girl, she and HER mother made their own lye soap off the back of their wooden house in an iron kettle over a wood fire, just inside the fence from the cow pasture and across the yard from the outhouse.
OK. Maybe progress isn't ALL bad.
Labels: personal urban drama, texas, vacation
Saturday, April 15, 2006
The azaleas have peaked and we are actually on the slippery slope down into summer here in Houston as of today, Saturday. But it's still nice.
This is the time of year for tulips and daffodils in people's carefully tended front yard gardens, for the oleanders to begin bursting, and for the people who suffer allergies to begin lining up at Walgreens or going to their doctor's offices for shots.*
This post is for Tennessee.
If there's a stranger spring ritual in the entire country, I've never seen it and remember - I live in TEXAS.
Get in your car during April and drive to Nashville. Take the Trace if you can. Then find a neighborhood where the houses have nice big green lawns (for example, just get off the freeway anywhere). Try a weekend when more people are home. Then just drive and let your mouth drop open as you see guys in bermuda shorts and fishing caps out mowing down acre after acre of naturalized paperwhite, purple iris, and daffodil drifts that roll across the hills that their homes are built on.
Tulips will forever take me back to MD Anderson and sitting with my brother outside, talking privately about the inevitable, surrounded by huge planters full of riotous purple spring tulips.
And also to Nashville, where my sister and I took a road trip, one of our last youthful ones, to Jackson to visit our mother for the last good time, and then on to Nashville. I was still in college. I had a speech class wherein I had to recite a poem from memory upon our return home.
No offense to those people who like poetry (especially a couple of brilliant bloggers who hey guys ya know I love you but that doesn't mean I have to love everything you WRITE) but I just fucking hate it. So I chose something with subject matter I could enjoy on some level and spent ten days in a Lincoln Towncar driving to Tennessee and back with my sister and two of our guy friends. Smoking dope, randomly video taping anything that we saw, swilling rum, and loudly memorizing Poe's Annabelle Lee with liberal dramatic interpretation, we trolled across the South. My poetic recition was graced with the comic support of a plastic alligator head on a stick which I shit you not I still to this day have and could go pick up right now I know exactly where it is. One of those that has a trigger affair at the bottom of the stick which you squeeze and the plastic animal head at the top of the stick does something?
OK I've gotten WAY OFF TRACK.
Honestly folks, at this point I don't remember what the track was. Lets leave it at the alligator head and just go on with our lives, what say?
*As I've said so many times in my life, some of my genes I'm very happy for. To quote my neurologist: "Your sinuses look great for someone who lives in Houston!"
This is the time of year for tulips and daffodils in people's carefully tended front yard gardens, for the oleanders to begin bursting, and for the people who suffer allergies to begin lining up at Walgreens or going to their doctor's offices for shots.*
This post is for Tennessee.
If there's a stranger spring ritual in the entire country, I've never seen it and remember - I live in TEXAS.
Get in your car during April and drive to Nashville. Take the Trace if you can. Then find a neighborhood where the houses have nice big green lawns (for example, just get off the freeway anywhere). Try a weekend when more people are home. Then just drive and let your mouth drop open as you see guys in bermuda shorts and fishing caps out mowing down acre after acre of naturalized paperwhite, purple iris, and daffodil drifts that roll across the hills that their homes are built on.
Tulips will forever take me back to MD Anderson and sitting with my brother outside, talking privately about the inevitable, surrounded by huge planters full of riotous purple spring tulips.
And also to Nashville, where my sister and I took a road trip, one of our last youthful ones, to Jackson to visit our mother for the last good time, and then on to Nashville. I was still in college. I had a speech class wherein I had to recite a poem from memory upon our return home.
No offense to those people who like poetry (especially a couple of brilliant bloggers who hey guys ya know I love you but that doesn't mean I have to love everything you WRITE) but I just fucking hate it. So I chose something with subject matter I could enjoy on some level and spent ten days in a Lincoln Towncar driving to Tennessee and back with my sister and two of our guy friends. Smoking dope, randomly video taping anything that we saw, swilling rum, and loudly memorizing Poe's Annabelle Lee with liberal dramatic interpretation, we trolled across the South. My poetic recition was graced with the comic support of a plastic alligator head on a stick which I shit you not I still to this day have and could go pick up right now I know exactly where it is. One of those that has a trigger affair at the bottom of the stick which you squeeze and the plastic animal head at the top of the stick does something?
OK I've gotten WAY OFF TRACK.
Honestly folks, at this point I don't remember what the track was. Lets leave it at the alligator head and just go on with our lives, what say?
*As I've said so many times in my life, some of my genes I'm very happy for. To quote my neurologist: "Your sinuses look great for someone who lives in Houston!"
Labels: personal urban drama, vacation
Friday, November 25, 2005
Thanksgiving was nice. A roasted turkey breast, creamed spinach, Toradol, Darvocet, cornbread, dressing, cranberry...the usual.
Christmas will be nicer. Less pharmaceutical, but nice. The Husband and I have decided to buy each other no presents this year. We will instead spend the money we would have spent on gifts (him: jewelry store) (me: geek crap) on a road trip to visit his 248 year old grandparents on their huge assed cotton farm in the bootheal of Missouri. We went up there about four years ago so he could See Them One More Time Before They Died but they haven't, so we're going again.
We both come from families with great road trip traditions. My family once drove to Montana from New Orleans by way of Omaha. Get a map. You'll see why we made fun of Daddy til the day he died over that one. For years, the Husband's family made a monthly pilgrimage from Houston to Missouri in a VOLKSWAGON BUG with the Mother, the Father and THREE children. IMAGINE. It's amazing that any of the children will even get in a car as adults.
And then there was that Thanksgiving trip I took with my father, step mother, one sister (and not the good one) and a step brother in a Lincoln Town Car. I think my mother knew my dad a lot better than my step mother did because she never let him buy a car with electric windows. She KNEW that he couldn't leave a gadget alone and sure enough, on the way back to Houston from Laurel, Mississippi, during an ICE STORM, Daddy was tormenting those of us in the back seat by rolling down the side window and locking it so it couldn't be rolled up until we were screaming in freezing, wet agony. After about 4,000 miles of this sort of fun, the window got stuck 3/4 of the way open. Times like this call for using Baby Of The Family Cute for all it's worth and I did get to move as far away from the open frrreezing rain hole as possible and still stay in the car. The step brother got stuck sitting by the ice and I always thought that was somehow appropriate because he always encouraged Daddy's "playful" side.
Ahhhhhh, family.
Christmas will be nicer. Less pharmaceutical, but nice. The Husband and I have decided to buy each other no presents this year. We will instead spend the money we would have spent on gifts (him: jewelry store) (me: geek crap) on a road trip to visit his 248 year old grandparents on their huge assed cotton farm in the bootheal of Missouri. We went up there about four years ago so he could See Them One More Time Before They Died but they haven't, so we're going again.
We both come from families with great road trip traditions. My family once drove to Montana from New Orleans by way of Omaha. Get a map. You'll see why we made fun of Daddy til the day he died over that one. For years, the Husband's family made a monthly pilgrimage from Houston to Missouri in a VOLKSWAGON BUG with the Mother, the Father and THREE children. IMAGINE. It's amazing that any of the children will even get in a car as adults.
And then there was that Thanksgiving trip I took with my father, step mother, one sister (and not the good one) and a step brother in a Lincoln Town Car. I think my mother knew my dad a lot better than my step mother did because she never let him buy a car with electric windows. She KNEW that he couldn't leave a gadget alone and sure enough, on the way back to Houston from Laurel, Mississippi, during an ICE STORM, Daddy was tormenting those of us in the back seat by rolling down the side window and locking it so it couldn't be rolled up until we were screaming in freezing, wet agony. After about 4,000 miles of this sort of fun, the window got stuck 3/4 of the way open. Times like this call for using Baby Of The Family Cute for all it's worth and I did get to move as far away from the open frrreezing rain hole as possible and still stay in the car. The step brother got stuck sitting by the ice and I always thought that was somehow appropriate because he always encouraged Daddy's "playful" side.
Ahhhhhh, family.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Man, I loves me some Texas Hill Country. If you haven't been, you're missing something. It is awash in clean, natural beauty, friendly people, good food, and oh yeah, deer.
On of the nicest rivers in Texas is the Guadalupe. Its headwaters are in the Hill Country, not far from where I took this picture, northwest of Fredericksburg. A little farther south, near New Braunfels, you'll never find a nicer place to sit on an innertube with a cold beer and float down a stream.
Another beautiful river in Texas is the Colorado. It's the river that was dammed to create the Highland Lakes, which include Buchanan (where we were), LBJ, Inks, Travis and Austin. North of Buchanan the river is in its natural state and provides a wonderful limestone cliffed area where bald eagles come for the winter. This is the waterfalls - fed year round by a natural spring.
Along with the natural beauty comes some strangeness. This is Texas, afterall. If you decide to spend the day driving around in the area of Kerrville taking in all the natural beauty you will eventually come around a curve and be greeted by...Stonehenge. Don't ask me why. You just will be. Oh yeah, there are also a couple of Easter Island heads on the same land. And not real far from here there's a Bavarian Castle, too. No shit.
And the food. Or rather, The BBQ. Go to Llano. Eat at Cooper's. This is how they make their charcoal for their grills. Each of those logs is about five feet long.
And the ribs? Oh. My. God. The ribs. This one - yeah - one rib - weighed in at 2.5 pounds. Pardon my drool.
In Texas, White Tail Deer are thought of by many as sort of the same way that rats are thought of by NYC residents. They're a menace. They're freaking everywhere. They eat your gardens, eat your grass. They cause lots of traffic accidents by daring to cross roads. On the other hand, many people when they hear DEER just run for the fork and knife - venison is wildly popular. And then there are people like me who subscribe to the whole Bambi thing.
There are also wild turkeys in Texas. They're a good bit more rare than Venison and they're incredibly shy. So I felt truly fortunate to have spotted this Tom strutting his stuff in a pasture - maybe the fence made him feel safe. He pretty much just walked up to me.
Nice people all over the place - and a shout out thanks to the geezer who loaned us a line to tie off the Hobie with when ours proved to be too short.
On of the nicest rivers in Texas is the Guadalupe. Its headwaters are in the Hill Country, not far from where I took this picture, northwest of Fredericksburg. A little farther south, near New Braunfels, you'll never find a nicer place to sit on an innertube with a cold beer and float down a stream.
Another beautiful river in Texas is the Colorado. It's the river that was dammed to create the Highland Lakes, which include Buchanan (where we were), LBJ, Inks, Travis and Austin. North of Buchanan the river is in its natural state and provides a wonderful limestone cliffed area where bald eagles come for the winter. This is the waterfalls - fed year round by a natural spring.
Along with the natural beauty comes some strangeness. This is Texas, afterall. If you decide to spend the day driving around in the area of Kerrville taking in all the natural beauty you will eventually come around a curve and be greeted by...Stonehenge. Don't ask me why. You just will be. Oh yeah, there are also a couple of Easter Island heads on the same land. And not real far from here there's a Bavarian Castle, too. No shit.
And the food. Or rather, The BBQ. Go to Llano. Eat at Cooper's. This is how they make their charcoal for their grills. Each of those logs is about five feet long.
And the ribs? Oh. My. God. The ribs. This one - yeah - one rib - weighed in at 2.5 pounds. Pardon my drool.
In Texas, White Tail Deer are thought of by many as sort of the same way that rats are thought of by NYC residents. They're a menace. They're freaking everywhere. They eat your gardens, eat your grass. They cause lots of traffic accidents by daring to cross roads. On the other hand, many people when they hear DEER just run for the fork and knife - venison is wildly popular. And then there are people like me who subscribe to the whole Bambi thing.
There are also wild turkeys in Texas. They're a good bit more rare than Venison and they're incredibly shy. So I felt truly fortunate to have spotted this Tom strutting his stuff in a pasture - maybe the fence made him feel safe. He pretty much just walked up to me.
Nice people all over the place - and a shout out thanks to the geezer who loaned us a line to tie off the Hobie with when ours proved to be too short.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Aaaaah. Small Town America.
The Husband and I spent our vacation last week surrounded by it. We had a cabin on the shore of Lake Buchanan, about an hour northwest of Austin. The Highland Lakes were created by the Army Corps of Engineers in the 1930's. (Probably Useless Fact: This is the same as every other lake in Texas save Lake Caddo, which most believe was created in the 1800's by an earthquake on the New Madrid Fault -that's right - Texas has no lakes that are just - there.)
One of my favorite things about Going Into The Woods is Small Town Newspapers. Here in the megalopolis that is Houston we don't get to read in the paper about the activities of our law enforcement agency's day to day activities unless they involve things like a crime lab the produces falsified evidence or an officer who downloads nude pictures from the cell phone of a woman he stopped for a traffic offense and who then begins to stalk her - big city fun!
So. The big doings from The River Cities Tribune for the week of June 17, 2005 include the following urgent police matters:
Monday, June 6
8:07AM: A caller in the 1500 block of Hilltop in the Granite Shoals area reported a big, brown dog loose in the area. But she added that is was a friendly dog. A Granite Shoals police officer responded to the call.
6:22PM: A Burnet County deputy responded to the 1000 block of Deer Springs Drive after a caller reported some dogs were killing his sheep.
8:37PM: A Burnet County deputy responded to a report of a loose horse on Farm-to-Market Road 2657 in the Oakalla area.
Tuesday, June 7
3:50PM: A caller in the Deer Springs area reported some dogs killing sheep. The Burnet County animal control officer responded to the call.
Wednesday, June 8
1:18AM: A caller in the 1200 block of Sherrard reported a disturbance. The caller advised that she and her husband were having an argument. The caller reported that her husband had actually beat his own head into a door because of the argument. Two Burnet police officers responded to the call.
3:44PM: A caller reported some skateboarders in the church parking lot in the Lamon and Wood area. A Burnet County deputy responded to the call and advised the skateboarders they couldn't skate in the parking lot.
Friday, June 10
1:55PM: A Burnet police officer responded to a residence in the Briar and Boundary area after a caller reported there was a dog in the area that had not had any water for a couple of days.
I'm trying to imagine the smart assed remark I would get from Houston Police Dispatch if I asked them to come do something about a thirsty dog.
I'll be back soon with a few pictures.
The Husband and I spent our vacation last week surrounded by it. We had a cabin on the shore of Lake Buchanan, about an hour northwest of Austin. The Highland Lakes were created by the Army Corps of Engineers in the 1930's. (Probably Useless Fact: This is the same as every other lake in Texas save Lake Caddo, which most believe was created in the 1800's by an earthquake on the New Madrid Fault -that's right - Texas has no lakes that are just - there.)
One of my favorite things about Going Into The Woods is Small Town Newspapers. Here in the megalopolis that is Houston we don't get to read in the paper about the activities of our law enforcement agency's day to day activities unless they involve things like a crime lab the produces falsified evidence or an officer who downloads nude pictures from the cell phone of a woman he stopped for a traffic offense and who then begins to stalk her - big city fun!
So. The big doings from The River Cities Tribune for the week of June 17, 2005 include the following urgent police matters:
Monday, June 6
8:07AM: A caller in the 1500 block of Hilltop in the Granite Shoals area reported a big, brown dog loose in the area. But she added that is was a friendly dog. A Granite Shoals police officer responded to the call.
6:22PM: A Burnet County deputy responded to the 1000 block of Deer Springs Drive after a caller reported some dogs were killing his sheep.
8:37PM: A Burnet County deputy responded to a report of a loose horse on Farm-to-Market Road 2657 in the Oakalla area.
Tuesday, June 7
3:50PM: A caller in the Deer Springs area reported some dogs killing sheep. The Burnet County animal control officer responded to the call.
Wednesday, June 8
1:18AM: A caller in the 1200 block of Sherrard reported a disturbance. The caller advised that she and her husband were having an argument. The caller reported that her husband had actually beat his own head into a door because of the argument. Two Burnet police officers responded to the call.
3:44PM: A caller reported some skateboarders in the church parking lot in the Lamon and Wood area. A Burnet County deputy responded to the call and advised the skateboarders they couldn't skate in the parking lot.
Friday, June 10
1:55PM: A Burnet police officer responded to a residence in the Briar and Boundary area after a caller reported there was a dog in the area that had not had any water for a couple of days.
I'm trying to imagine the smart assed remark I would get from Houston Police Dispatch if I asked them to come do something about a thirsty dog.
I'll be back soon with a few pictures.
Saturday, June 18, 2005
Tomorrow this blog will be two years old. Funny - when I look back, my very first post was about a bad driver. I guess some themes are timeless if you live in Houston!! Thanks to all my regular guests - it's been a delight.
On another topic:
One of the sweetest words in the English language:
V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N
The Husband, the catamaran, and I are outta here. Sister will kindly puppy sit the Black Dog. See you in a week!
On another topic:
One of the sweetest words in the English language:
V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N
The Husband, the catamaran, and I are outta here. Sister will kindly puppy sit the Black Dog. See you in a week!
Thursday, August 12, 2004
Today was very exciting because any day that begins with anesthesia is exciting. I had a little oral surgery this morning but all went well and I expect a quick recovery. I had a similar surgery last year that involved four tissue transpalants and a bone graft, so this was a piece of chocolate cake with chocolate fudge icing compared to that. Any day a doctor doesn't have to take bone from one part of you and put it in another part of you is a good day. That's my motto.
Getting geared up for the great Boat Retrieval Trip this weekend. Sister will come keep Black Dog company while we haul butt and trailer hitch to Kansas to pick up our new Getaway. Yeah we're crazy but we're both ok with that. We'll be on the water Monday and chances are good you won't so ----- there. Ha.
Darvocet is a wonderful thing and it is calling calling calling my name. More later if we don't drown.
Getting geared up for the great Boat Retrieval Trip this weekend. Sister will come keep Black Dog company while we haul butt and trailer hitch to Kansas to pick up our new Getaway. Yeah we're crazy but we're both ok with that. We'll be on the water Monday and chances are good you won't so ----- there. Ha.
Darvocet is a wonderful thing and it is calling calling calling my name. More later if we don't drown.
Thursday, June 10, 2004
Hi yeah I know I'm sorry I'm a bad blog owner...I've been neglecting this space.
I got a piece of fan mail about this site and it delighted me to no end. It doesn't occur to me most of the time that anyone other than my brother or husband ever reads this place so hearing from a complete stranger who told me that she liked my writing pretty much sent me walking on clouds of happiness and self satisfaction so thanks to you, Miss Stranger person out there, for making my month. I mean I felt like Sally Field at the Academy Awards..."they like me - they really like me!!'
I've been trolling around looking for a great inexpensive place for the husband and I to go hang out for 4-5 days the week of July 5th but haven't settled on a little slice of heaven yet. We talked and found out that we would both love to go to D.C. and sure wish we were willing to spend two grand to do it but it turns out ---- we're NOT! :)
I gave the black dog a hair cut this weekend. Let's just say that if you're ever wondering 'is it really worth the 50 bucks to get the dog groomed?' the answer is a definitive yes!! Not because it's a pain - it's not really - but because if your dog ends up anything like my poor pathetic beast ended up, you'll be embarrassed to take him for walkies in public until it all grows back. I'm grateful for a wooden fence around the back yard. If he were visible to other people the might think him abused, or mangey. And he's such a sweet beast, too!
I got a piece of fan mail about this site and it delighted me to no end. It doesn't occur to me most of the time that anyone other than my brother or husband ever reads this place so hearing from a complete stranger who told me that she liked my writing pretty much sent me walking on clouds of happiness and self satisfaction so thanks to you, Miss Stranger person out there, for making my month. I mean I felt like Sally Field at the Academy Awards..."they like me - they really like me!!'
I've been trolling around looking for a great inexpensive place for the husband and I to go hang out for 4-5 days the week of July 5th but haven't settled on a little slice of heaven yet. We talked and found out that we would both love to go to D.C. and sure wish we were willing to spend two grand to do it but it turns out ---- we're NOT! :)
I gave the black dog a hair cut this weekend. Let's just say that if you're ever wondering 'is it really worth the 50 bucks to get the dog groomed?' the answer is a definitive yes!! Not because it's a pain - it's not really - but because if your dog ends up anything like my poor pathetic beast ended up, you'll be embarrassed to take him for walkies in public until it all grows back. I'm grateful for a wooden fence around the back yard. If he were visible to other people the might think him abused, or mangey. And he's such a sweet beast, too!
Saturday, May 15, 2004
Yeah I know I think it's pretty cool, strange and weird all at the same time, too. The latest trend for women in the Catholic Church? Why of course, it's becoming a consecrated virgin!! According to Sister Mary Adeline O'Donoghue, a member of the Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word, "The consecrated virgins of today won't necessarily have to die for their faith." Whew! That's a relief!
Yeah, it's a neat thing, I love the idea that there really IS such a thing, but c'mon...it feels a little bit like wicca or druid, doesn't it? Just a little?
Yeah, it's a neat thing, I love the idea that there really IS such a thing, but c'mon...it feels a little bit like wicca or druid, doesn't it? Just a little?
Labels: vacation
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
I am wildly in love with my husband. And, as luck would have it, he's dog-crazy-dizzy in love with me. I know that he comes over here and reads my blog sometimes to see if I'm writing about some deep personal internal life I'm having that he knows nothing about, so this post is really for him - to surprise him with a big "I love ya you twisted freak!". Smooches, Baby -Wifey
P.S. Here's a little reminder of that most perfect of all perfect days.
P.S. Here's a little reminder of that most perfect of all perfect days.
Labels: vacation
Sunday, April 11, 2004
Damned damned damned damned damned damned damned.
I have to go back to work tomorrow.
Know what I hate about vacation?
The ending.
I have to go back to work tomorrow.
Know what I hate about vacation?
The ending.
Labels: vacation
Sunday, April 04, 2004
Friday, while in Austin, I was served a glass of iced tea by a college aged student who was wearing a pair of blue and green plaid boxer shorts on his head.
Retiring to the patio of the shop to drink my tea, I was pleased to enjoy the music being made by three old hippie type guys who appeared to have been sitting in coffee houses in Austin for about 30 years playing guitar. They had one instrument between the three of them, and they kept handing it around, playing one song each.
Top it off with the aging hippie type lady sitting at the table next to me who was enjoying her coffee with a big reefer. Quintessential Austin.
Retiring to the patio of the shop to drink my tea, I was pleased to enjoy the music being made by three old hippie type guys who appeared to have been sitting in coffee houses in Austin for about 30 years playing guitar. They had one instrument between the three of them, and they kept handing it around, playing one song each.
Top it off with the aging hippie type lady sitting at the table next to me who was enjoying her coffee with a big reefer. Quintessential Austin.
Sunday, March 28, 2004
Road trip on the schedule again - leaving Thursday for Austin. Strategically scheduled to miss SXSW - I'm entirely too old to be cool. I may hit the Spamfest, though. First time to go alone - usually take the black dog or the Lisa. First time to take the Miata - it BETTER be dry. You HEAR ME? I told the brother that the agenda includes a) chicken enchiladas at Kerby Thursday and b) getting smashed at the Pier on Friday. He said "Are you kidding?" I said no - I really want those enchiladas, damned it! He's so cute sometimes, I swear... He came late in life to this big brother/little sister thing and it's really fun to watch. Gotta remember to pack my liver.
Labels: cult, miata, texas, vacation
Thursday, December 04, 2003
Got an email from my boss today:
We miss you - It's been HELL without you -- how did I sign that vacation form????? What was I thinking - look forward to seeing you MONDAY!!!!!!!
It's nice to be needed.
We miss you - It's been HELL without you -- how did I sign that vacation form????? What was I thinking - look forward to seeing you MONDAY!!!!!!!
It's nice to be needed.
Wednesday, December 03, 2003
Three quarters of the way through a two week vacation and wishing I could sleep til Noon for the rest of my life. It's obviously my natural circadian because it only took me one day to get off of my work schedule and onto my "stay up at least til 3am and get up noonish" schedule.
I had to get up this morning to go get some blood drawn at my doctor's office. When the alarm went off at 7:30am my first thought was "you've GOT to be kidding me" and then I thought "well crap" and got up.
I had to get up this morning to go get some blood drawn at my doctor's office. When the alarm went off at 7:30am my first thought was "you've GOT to be kidding me" and then I thought "well crap" and got up.
Labels: vacation
Thursday, November 13, 2003
OK so my brother calls me last night and he's all puffed-up-chested and excited because he's found his name on a baby-naming site and its source is Polish and its meaning is something akin to 'heroic spear man'.
He wants to know if I know what my name means. I say 'yeah something like holiday song or big event song or happy song or something along those lines'. He says are you sure I mean how do you know that? I think but don't say well maybe because it's a common word in my native language and I hear it every season around this time of year coming up and I use the term 'Christmas Carol' when I'm saying my name to someone who obviously thinks I just said 'Karen' instead of 'Carol'. Instead I say 'I don't know I'm sure I've read it somewhere.' I try to take pity on him sometimes - I have to remember that he's not asking a stupid question, he's asking a foreigner's question.
I'm not all excited about any of this because I have such a common name and because well...just because.
I can understand why he's all excited because his name's meaning is a nice masculine meaning - it's not like he looked up his name and it means 'noodle dish cooked in clay pot buried for three days in wet sand' - so that's cool, and also because his name is such a terribly unique name that no one in this country ever ever ever gets it right the first time and it's not like he can say "Christmas Carol" - he'd have to say something equivalent in a language my computer doesn't even have the ability to type in. So bully for him.
But what really matters? What's really the big damned deal these days?
Six working days 'til vacation, that's what.
Not that I'm counting.
Well, not that I'm counting more than 9 or 300 times a day, anyway.
He wants to know if I know what my name means. I say 'yeah something like holiday song or big event song or happy song or something along those lines'. He says are you sure I mean how do you know that? I think but don't say well maybe because it's a common word in my native language and I hear it every season around this time of year coming up and I use the term 'Christmas Carol' when I'm saying my name to someone who obviously thinks I just said 'Karen' instead of 'Carol'. Instead I say 'I don't know I'm sure I've read it somewhere.' I try to take pity on him sometimes - I have to remember that he's not asking a stupid question, he's asking a foreigner's question.
I'm not all excited about any of this because I have such a common name and because well...just because.
I can understand why he's all excited because his name's meaning is a nice masculine meaning - it's not like he looked up his name and it means 'noodle dish cooked in clay pot buried for three days in wet sand' - so that's cool, and also because his name is such a terribly unique name that no one in this country ever ever ever gets it right the first time and it's not like he can say "Christmas Carol" - he'd have to say something equivalent in a language my computer doesn't even have the ability to type in. So bully for him.
But what really matters? What's really the big damned deal these days?
Six working days 'til vacation, that's what.
Not that I'm counting.
Well, not that I'm counting more than 9 or 300 times a day, anyway.
Labels: personal urban drama, vacation
Thursday, October 30, 2003
Doctor! I've recently developed an unquenchable need for ice cold Countrytime Lemonade - whatever could it mean?
Well, Ma'm...sounds like maybe you need to go camping and have big camp fires and cook wonderful breakfasts out in the woods and breathe fresh air and go to sleep every night looking up at the stars.
Weellllllll.........if you INSIST!
Well, Ma'm...sounds like maybe you need to go camping and have big camp fires and cook wonderful breakfasts out in the woods and breathe fresh air and go to sleep every night looking up at the stars.
Weellllllll.........if you INSIST!
Labels: vacation
What does a one track mind look like?
It's what I see in the mirror every morning.
It's thinking:
Four more weeks until vacation.
Four more weeks until vacation.
Four more weeks until vacation.
It's what I see in the mirror every morning.
It's thinking:
Four more weeks until vacation.
Four more weeks until vacation.
Four more weeks until vacation.
Labels: vacation
