Texas RenFest

When I was a teenager, my friends and I would go to the Texas Renaissance Festival each Fall.  We would all pile into someone's car, drive the 80 miles outside of Houston and spend the day walking thru the woods, pretending we were M'lady and debating if it was worth $8 for a flowered headpiece. It was weird and wild and fun. 

The RenFest is now in its 39th year.  This weekend, Husband and I went. 

It was ... odd.  We knew folks dressed up, and we expected that.  We knew some of the costumes were skimpy, we expected that. However, we saw more cleavage, both male and female, than either one of us expected.  The number of shirtless men was staggering, and 99% of those guys needed to put a shirt on.  Man-boobs, everywhere we looked.  I did appreciate the people who dressed up, but the number of women who thought a bikini top and a henna-painted abdomen was "being in costume" just about equalled the man-boobs group.  There was one Viking, wearing nothing but a horned Viking hat and an itty-bitty loin cloth -- I can't imagine his "costume" was authentic. We also saw one guy in leather, being led around by his girlfriend via a chain attached to his nose.  Umm -- BDSM in Medieval Europe?  

We thought getting there at 9:00 a.m., as the gates opened, might lessen the freak show / alcohol factor, and it might have -- but the things we saw at 9:00 a.m. were surprising enough.   

Once we stopped gawking at all the boobs, the chain mail body suits, the leather bondage outfits and the strategically painted henna body art, we decided to check out the grounds themselves. 

There were things to see and do that did NOT involve beer, leather or boobage-exposure so we sought those things out.  I was going to buy a flower wreath, but they were $15 and I was too cheap.  

We did go to the petting zoo, where I saw a baby llama

and the Momma-Llama (yeah, I had to do that LOL)

There were also camels and elephants

We saw jugglers, both swords and fire, 

And, of course, jousting

There were so many artisans -- we enjoyed the glass blower the most.

Then it started to rain.  And rain.  And rain.  (Note the muddy jousting field in that last photo).

When the rain stopped, we'd dash out, get Something-On-A-Stick, and run back under another shelter while eating our sausage / steak / turkey leg / banana.

It kept raining. That green?  Heavy, heavy rain.

We figured we had seen everything we wanted to (and much that we didn't want to!) and it was getting muddier and wetter, so we headed home.

Am I glad we went?  Yes.  Do I want to go back?  Probably not.  It was just a bit too ... free spirited ... for my taste.  It was fun, tho, and it was awfully nice getting to do something fun with my husband. We walked around, holding hands, giggling at the oddness and eating fair food.  We enjoyed the shows, the animals, the artisans -- and we even enjoyed the people watching.  

I'm glad we went, but I'm equally glad the weather didn't cooperate so that we could leave early without feeling like we were old-school fuddy-duddies.  We are old-school fuddy-duddies, but I don't want to FEEL like we are. :)

Now I've got two weeks to plan our next EOFO, which are going to have to be on Saturdays, as I've got a commitment every Friday at 1:45 pm to mentor a kindergartener.  But that's ok, it's the doing something with someone I love that's important, not the day of the week I do it.

The goal is to keep me from falling into a rut, and to stop us from getting bored -- and I think looking at boobage and leather-clad BDSM participants, while jugglers toss flaming swords at each other and knights joust in the mud all in front of llamas and camels and elephants ... WITH a ginormous turkey leg in hand -- that would count as "not boring"!  

It's EOFO time!!

Back in April, I wrote about our EOFO Outings.  (Hey!  That was my first blog link!  Hooray, me!)  This being Houston, we had to wait until the weather became more tolerable before we resumed our outings.  I told my husband that I would plan another EOFO outing soon, and I have been online looking at taking a weekend trip to The King Ranch (second link!  Double hooray for me!).  Since Killer McSavage did so well with our in-home dog sitter, I feel more comfortable leaving her overnight.  Yesterday, Larry came home from work and said, "Have you planned an EOFO yet?" and I said, "No, I'm working on it, tho."  He said, "Let's go to The Texas Renaissance Festival this weekend.  It's Oktoberfest."  I, being me, started in with all my objections.  "It's too far.  It'll cost too much money.  It's a lot of walking.  It's supposed to rain."  (Those were just off the top of my head!).  He stood there, silently.  He didn't say a word, he just looked at me with a vaguely disapproving look on his face.  I gave my coup d'etat and said, "Besides, I know you wouldn't enjoy the Renaissance Festival, that's not your kind of thing."  (I may have imagined a St. Sandra the Martyr crown perched on my head at that point, I don't know).  He said, "Would we be doing something together?  Would you be with me?"  "Of course."  "Then I'll enjoy it."  (Aww, how sweet!!)

I don't know why sometimes I get so stubborn.  He's right, I would love the Renaissance Festival.  I've been before and had a blast.  It's not that far (80 miles or so) and it's not that expensive (discount tickets are available).  And as Larry pointed out, he'll have a great time as long as he can get a turkey leg and a sausage-on-a-stick.  I kept trying to come up with objections, but every time I started, he'd put up his hand and say, "Stop." 

So I stopped.

We are going to the Renaissance Fair this weekend.  I'll get him a turkey leg and a sausage-on-a-stick.  I may splurge and get myself one of those flower and ribbon headpieces they sell ... yes, I know those are most commonly worn by 8 year old girls, but I've always wanted one. 

And if it rains, it rains.  I'll deal with it. 

I'm actually looking forward to going, we don't do our EOFO's in the summer because I would melt, so it's been a long time since we've just hopped in the car and done something fun. 

Maybe I'll even make HIM wear the flower/ribbon headpiece for at least one photo.  :)

This is the upside of being an empty nester; we can do things like this -- we don't have to worry about the kids schedules or about if they'll be bored, or anything else.  It's just Larry and me ... and if I want to walk around with a ribbon and flower wreath on my head, I don't have to worry about disapproval from my preteen (who was mortified just by the fact that I breathed ... you parents know exactly what I mean!!)

I'm going to take a bunch of pictures, I'm going to hold hands with my sweetie while wearing my Mom Jeans and my comfortable shoes and my fanny pack.  I'm not going to care how I look, because my Sweetie thinks I'm cute even when I'm wearing a flower and ribbon headpiece while eating a sausage on a stick.  He'll make an inappropriate comment about my eating a sausage on a stick, and I'll smack him and tell him to behave, but I'll laugh at the same time ... and we can DO that, because we won't have young ears listening to us.

Let it rain, if it wants.  I'm going to go this Saturday and have fun, because we've spent too much time waiting for fall so that we can resume our EOFO's and it's time.  And I've bought the tickets in advance (yeah, I'm being spontaneous, but I'm also cheap LOL, and these tickets are over 50% off) and they're non-refundable tickets, so we are going to go, regardless, because I'm not going to waste two paid-for tickets.

Sometimes he has to drag me, kicking and screaming, out of my rut, but I'm always grateful when he does.

Adventures in Waco

 Last weekend, Husband and I went to Waco.  Our excuse in going was that we needed to bring, and install, a router in GirlChild's apartment (they provide WiFi, but you have to provide the router), but that was just an excuse to go to Waco. We needed to see our baby.  Us being us, a simple overnight trip to Waco involved two weeks of planning -- first, I had to figure out what to do with Killer McSavage.  We found what we hoped was an ideal situation, a dog sitter who would come to our house twice a day and let Shadow outside, check her food and water and give her belly rubs.  I had to interview multiple dog sitters to find one who wasn't freaked out by 95+ pounds of dog ... surprisingly, a ginormous dog can make some people do a double-take. LOL!

Then we decided we needed to rent a car.  The brakes in the car need to be replaced and Husband's truck is seriously high-mileage so we decided renting a car was the best option.  After numerous phone calls to find the best prices, multiple discussions on what, exactly, is a mid size, etc., and we settled on a rental car.

We could have stayed with GirlChild in her apartment, but I'm at an age where sleeping in the living room on an air mattress isn't all that appealing, so we also had to get a hotel room.  There is a very nice hotel we have stayed in before, but it's not the most budget-friendly chain, and since it was just the two of us, just one night, we decided to downgrade ourselves.  We found a well-known chain just a few miles from her apartment -- the chain itself can go either way; some properties are quite nice and some are extremely iffy, but we thought we'd give it a whirl.  There are parts of Waco that are "sketch", but we figured we'd gamble.

Dog care?  Check.
Rental car?  Check.
Hotel reservations?  Check.

My husband, being who he is, wanted to leave Houston Saturday morning -- at 4:00 a.m.  What?  Why?  "That way, we can get to Waco in time to take Michelle to breakfast."  "Sweetheart, she is not going to be awake at 7:30, not even for you and Cracker Barrel."  Just to double check, I called her:  "What time do you want us there on Saturday?"  "I'll set my alarm for 9:30, can you be here at 10:00?" 

We left Houston Saturday morning in time to get to Waco at 10. For the first 45 minutes or so of the trip, I obsessed about the dog sitter.  What if they didn't come? What if they do come but Shadow won't let them inside? What if they come, and Shadow lets them inside but they are really crack-heads who turn our house into a meth lab for the weekend?  (That last one was from an episode of Breaking Bad.  But it COULD happen!)

My husband distracted me by stopping at Dunkin' Donuts and getting me something sugary to eat.  Thus fortified with sugar and caffeine, we resumed our trip to Waco.  

Here's a whole lot of nothing between Houston and Waco. There are cows and more cows and more cows. There are three small towns that are notorious speed traps -- and not much else.  Being this scintillating conversationalist that I am, I was able to chatter the entire way and keep my husband amused.  We pulled into Waco a little after 10:00 and then proceeded to get thoroughly lost within the labyrinth that is GirlChild's apartment complex.  We finally texted her and said, "We are in the Serenity Garden, by the pool.  Come find us!" and thankfully, she did. (Yes, her college apartment has a Serenity Garden and a pool. My first college apartment had drug dealers and cockroaches).  

We visited some and then went out for lunch -- there is a local institution called Health Camp.  It's been serving greasy burgers and to-die-for milkshakes to Wacoians since WWII.  It's amazing. I ate myself silly. They had a jukebox in the restaurant, so GirlChild played us music while we ate.  

From there, we went to Best Buy to get the router.  She, keeping up the music theme from lunch, hooked up her iTunes to the Bluetooth in the car.  We listened to that strange "What the wolf says" song.  Repeatedly.  It's an odd, odd song. I was grateful to get to Best Buy so that we could shut that stupid wolf up.

From Best Buy we went to HEB because I needed to buy her food.  She didn't necessarily need food, but I'm a mom, and I buy food.  

We got back to the apartment -- go THRU the Serenity Garden and turn left at the Game Room, the elevator is just past the gym -- and Husband set up the router while she and I unloaded groceries.

Her roommate had decorated for Halloween in our absence:

The router wouldn't work ... our iDevices would connect to the wifi, but for no apparent reason would suddenly disconnect.  Husband would go back into her bedroom and the wifi would reconnect, but as soon as he came back in the living room, the wifi would disconnect. After multiple trips in and out of her bedroom, he realized the router was plugged in to an outlet controlled by the wall switch -- so when he would go into the bedroom, he would turn on the light switch, and the router would turn on. He would leave the bedroom, turn off the lights, and the router would disconnect.  He moved the router and voila!  Constant wifi connection!  

GirlChild had an hour or so of homework she had to do, so Husband and I said we'd go check in to the hotel, and she could call us when her homework was done.  There are parts of Waco that are ... iffy ... and as we GPS'ed the directions to the hotel, we realized we were in one of the iffy areas.  We pulled up in front of the hotel, and we both shuddered -- no, I realize we were downgrading to save money, but this was TOO much of a downgrade. He went inside to cancel our reservation as I begged Siri to find us another hotel.  We found a WONDERFUL hotel, very clean and more luxurious than I planned on, and it was only $10 more than Hotel Skanky.  We were thrilled.  

GirlChild called, said she finished her homework and if we wanted to come back, she'd cook us dinner!  How could I refuse? My child, cooking me dinner?  She made a lovely dinner of chicken and mashed potatoes.  And she cleaned up afterwards.  That was quite a treat. Several of her friends came over, after dinner, because they wanted to meet us.  I was flattered, until she said her friends thought we were Sasquatch. I asked why, and she said it was because she talked about us but they had never seen us.  I wasn't quite as flattered. But her friends were just delightful young people. I really enjoyed meeting them.  After her friends left, we went to Sam's. I'm still the mom, I still needed to buy her more food.

Oh, and while we were out, our meth making crack-head dog sitters texted me a picture:

So maybe they really are a responsible young nice couple who just wanted to come dog sit for me.  That reassured me.

The next morning, GirlChild gave us a tour of Baylor. We've seen the campus a bazillion times, but she wanted to show us the new parts of campus that we hadn't seen before.  I will just say, the new dorms that the kids live in today are way nicer in the prison cell dorm that GirlChild lived in her freshman year.

We ate a late breakfast, saw a little bit of Church Under the Bridge, which is a church service that ministers to the homeless who live under the bridge, and then we said our goodbyes.  

It was a wonderful weekend. It will have to satisfy me until Thanksgiving, as I don't expect we'll see each other before then.

I enjoyed every minute of it, and I loved seeing my child as an adult, and I'm so thrilled we went -- but I'm equally glad to look forward to a quiet, uneventful weekend. 

I'm already planning our Thanksgiving menu -- I'm excited to know I'll be seeing her again next month.

And if anyone needs a dog sitter, I've got a very reliable, very responsible, non-crackhead / meth-dealer couple I can highly recommend, without hesitation.

Dogs -- the things we do for our fur babies!

My precious cuddle bunny. She's 95 pounds of snuggly love. 

She loves her family

She loves her yogurt

She loves her couch

What she doesn't love?  Any other animal.  Cats, other dogs, squirrels, raccoons -- she doesn't care.  She is ragingly jealous and she wants to be the only animal.  

She loves people, if you come over and you don't tell her "no", you'll have 95 pounds of dog in your lap, demanding to get a belly rub.  She is good with babies and little kids, she understands they are humans and are, therefore, to be cherished and loved. She is the smartest dog we've ever had, she knows all kinds of words and commands and she's eager to please, so she obeys.

Her main fault is her inability to interact with any other animal.  It's intense. And ugly. 

When we go out of town, we had been kenneling her at a local facility.  They're ok with her, but due to her "socialization issues" (i.e., she's a bully) they can't let her play with the other dogs, so they have to keep her in a dog run for 20 hours a day. That makes me sad. 

We heard about a company that matches dog sitters with dog parents; they offer home dog sitting.  The hosts are all screened and background checked, and have undergone training.  Several host homes specified, "No large dogs" *sigh* but we found a host home in my neighborhood where the host has a black lab.  We set up a meet-and-greet and went to introduce Shadow and Sam (his lab) as well as a chance for us to meet the host and see his house. Turns out, we know the host -- he and his wife go to our church!  Surprisingly, Shadow and Sam got along tentatively -- Sam was fine, but Killer McSavage wasn't too sure. I think that the fact that Sam is also a big dog might have been a factor, but it was ... not awful.  Shadow wasn't pleased, but living in someone's house is better than being in a cage for 20 hours a day so we were optimistic. 

Eventually, we plan on going to go to Waco and see GirlChild. I called Sam's dad to make a reservation, but he is having surgery the weekend we are considering. He recommended another dog sitter he knows who also has a lab.  I called her and set up a meet-and-greet.  She has a sweet chocolate lab and a yellow lab puppy (uh-oh). Killer and the chocolate lab were ok, again it was Killer who was iffy.  The chocolate lab was wonderful, Shadow wasn't too sure about it but she was on an equal footing, size-wise, so she was tolerant. Then she was introduced to the puppy and it got ugly, quickly. We separated the two of them and, as I was putting Shadow's leash back on her, the host said, "You understand why I have to decline the opportunity to watch Shadow, don't you?" I was mortified.  I was so upset that my precious baby was so mean to such a sweet puppy -- and it was completely unjustified.  Shadow was the aggressor, the other dog was in no way at fault.  I apologized and we slunk out of her house. Well, I slunk.  Shadow pranced, proudly, to the car.

On the way home, I was in tears. I looked at her, with her head out the car window enjoying the breeze and getting all kinds of smiles and thumbs up from other drivers.

I told her she had just bought herself a weekend at the kennel and she was NOT going to like being in a cage for 20 hours a day.

She just grinned at me and stuck her head back out the window.

When I got home, Husband and I were saying what we needed was someone who would just come over twice a day and let her outside.  She would be fine to be alone in the house overnight, but she did need to go outside to potty.

I remembered something on the website, so I looked:   some of the hosts do offer that!  They will come to your house for a 30 minute visit.  They'll take the dog outside, check the food and water and play with your dog.  Perfect!!!

I found a host family -- young married couple, no children but two dogs.  He's in the military and, since they live in an apartment they can't do in-home boarding but they would do home visits.  I couldn't message them fast enough!!  "Do you mind big dogs?  Are you free on the weekends?"  She almost immediately messaged me back.  Her parents have labs, she grew up with labs (hooray!) and they were available weekends!  We set up a meet-and-greet for the next afternoon.  I cleaned my house like a wild woman, I Swiffered every surface and I Febreezed everywhere.  I so needed to impress these people, I so needed this to work.  I also gave Shadow a lecture on how she *had* to be good and how she *had* to make a good impression.  

They showed up right on time (punctuality -- nice!) and immediately Shadow turned on the charm.  She was a delight. We chatted some, they bonded with Shadow, we discussed the times / responsibilities and they left with a house key, a Ziploc full of Ginormous Sized Milk Bones and my gratitude.

It is a bit odd giving strangers keys to my house, but they are background screened by the agency and, while I know this doesn't guarantee anything, he is in the military and I trust that.

So Killer can stay in the comfort and familiarity of her home and this couple will come over twice a day to let her out and to check on her and cuddle her.  She won't have to spend all weekend in a cage, and I won't have to worry about her being abusive to another dog.  For a weekend trip, I think this'll be a perfect solution.  I wouldn't make these arrangements for a week long vacation, but we will only be gone overnight. 

I'm cautiously optimistic. 

Dogs.  There was a time when I'd have rolled my eyes at someone like me, who was obsessing over a pet, but she's more than just a dog.  She's my Shadow, and if it means I have to spend a week interviewing dog sitters to find the right match, well then I will.

An Eye For Beauty Part 2

So I've started walking again.  I've been pretty good this past week

It's a start, anyway. This week, I walked Monday (and wrote An Eye For Beauty) based on that. I was going to walk yesterday but decided instead to unstop a clogged toilet (eww) and then mop the floor and then wash some nasty towels. By the time that was all done, I just had enough time to get out the door as I had somewhere to be. Got in the car, and the Check Engine light inexplicably came on. And went off. And came back on. And went back off. Repeatedly. Got home, washed another load of clothes and realized, too late, that there was an ink pen left in the pocket of a pair of shorts. Beige shirts do not like being washed with blue pens. It was not a good day.  Then I got involved in a situation that a loved one was having -- and being me, I just wanted to jump in with both feet and fix it and make it all better. That wasn't what I was being asked to do, but it's what I wanted to do. 

Numerous phone calls and text messages later, I think they felt somewhat better but I was still feeling unsettled, because I wanted to "fix" things. 

In the midst of this, poor husband came home and said, "Hi, sweetie. How was your day?"  20 minutes later, I was still going off.  "And then, the toilet overflowed.  And THEN ... and THEN ... and THEN ..."  I was also fixing dinner, so my ranting and raving was accompanied by the occasional slam of a pot, just because I was that frustrated. 

This morning I went for my walk.  I wasn't in a happy place, but I figured I had two miles to fuss at God and complain. And I did. What my poor husband heard the night before, God heard this morning.  And THEN ... and THEN ... and THEN ..."  After I finished ranting and raving, I took a few minutes to be silent. I wrote the other day about Parrot Woman, and as I was finishing up yelling at God, I saw Parrot Woman approaching me. Today, Parrot was on top of her head!  As she passed me, I thought, "Oh,  I should get her picture!" but by the time I got my phone out, she was pretty far past me.

That's her, in red, with the cute collie. I did try to blow it up, but ...

Take my word for it, she had a parrot on her head!!

Anyway, I kept walking and suddenly it dawned on me that I had done to my husband exactly what Loved One had done to me:  vented and raged about a situation, not looking for an answer or someone to solve the problem, but just be a sounding board and a safe place to unload. I didn't want my husband to solve my problems, just listen. And that's what Loved One wanted from me.

Ah, ok, got it.  But God wasn't done teaching me a lesson.  He then made me realize that my job isn't to solve everyone's problems. My job is to equip them to solve their own problems.  

But, but, but ... God, I'm much better at solving their problems. I can make a few phone calls and have this all taken care of. I don't want to equip, and then stand back. I don't do that well.

But God was pretty insistent that my role in this situation is over. I was to listen, to encourage, to advise, to reassure -- but no more. And as I did that yesterday, today I need to let it go.

Easier said than done, but that's what I've tried to do. I did text Loved One, but we talked about other stuff (namely the iOS 7 update) and when I offhandedly and casual said, "and what about (situation), did that get taken care of?", the response was about iOS 7.  Message received.  I've not asked again. 

So while I didn't find any breathtaking sunrises this morning, nor did I see any photo-worthy birds in flight or perfectly formed, dewy flower buds, I *did* see a lady with a parrot on her head. And I had a conversation with God that did give me comfort. I guess beauty is found in different things for different people.

But I wouldn't mind a beautiful sunrise. 

An Eye For Beauty

Some people just naturally have an eye for beauty and have an artistic aptitude that allows them to see the world in a way that others can't / won't / don't. I have a friend who takes her dog out for a walk most mornings. She lives on a lake and she comes back from these walks with the most exquisite pictures of sunrise over the lake, or of a dewdrop glistening on a perfectly formed flower bud. She may see a bird, just taking off in flight as the light glimmers through his wings. She shares these pictures on Facebook with a comment about how gloriously God revealed Himself to her through the majesty of His creation and I am left speechless with her pictures as well as her ability to find beauty and wonder in something as routine and mundane as taking the dog for a walk.

Last year I started walking.  Then I, being the athlete I am (@@ eye roll @@) tore my meniscus and had to have knee surgery and weeks of rehab. I started going to water aerobics (low impact) and that, and physical therapy, has gotten me to the point where the orthopedist said I could resume walking. He wanted me to keep it at a moderate pace of 3 miles an hour (or for those of us who are mathematically challenged, 20 minutes a mile).  We have a walking trail that goes through our neighborhood. It's not a lake, but it's a nice enough walking trail. One end of the trail starts at the park and it loops down through the neighborhood, criss-crossing itself several times before ending up at the park again.  From my front door, to the park, to the main crossover, back to the park and home again is almost exactly two miles. 

I will be honest. When I'm walking, I'm not thinking about the beauty of nature, or about God revealing Himself to me or anything uplifting and spiritually mature like that. I'm thinking that it's too freakin' hot and humid when it's 80 degrees at 7:00 a.m.

I'm thinking how much longer it is until I finish this stupid circuit. I'm thinking how sweaty and gross I must look, huffing and puffing as I haul my fat self around the walking trail. 

Sorry, God. I love You and I worship You but I am not thinking about You and Your creation when I'm walking. 

This morning, I decided I was going to change that. I always have my phone with me, I walk to Pandora and I use a Map My Walk app. I decided today, I was going to also use my phone to capture some of the glories of nature. 

I started off walking to the park:

Nothing too spectacular, but I did giggle when I saw the combination water fountain.  It is three-tiered, one tall spigot for water bottles, one regular height for conventional use and a dog-height spigot for, ...well, for dogs. 

A couple weeks ago, I saw a child drinking out of the dog bowl and the mom just stood there and grinned like it was the funniest thing ever. It grossed me out, but I did think of that incident this morning. Not exactly dewdrop glistening on a perfectly formed flower bud so I walked on.

Few steps later, I saw a bunch of buzzards eating something. Eww. Eww. Eww. Not the nature connection I wanted, and I did NOT take a picture. Eww. Eww. Eww. 

I began down the trail.

The trees on either side line the walking trail. 

Surely I'd find something more picturesque and beautiful than buzzards.  I was walking, keeping alert for something spectacular, something that would take my breath away.  I found it. A friend of mine from church always rides his bike on the same path, at the same time as me. We wave, maybe speak, each morning. This morning, I was so busy looking for something to dazzle me that I didn't hear Bill come up behind me.  He spoke, scared the snot out of me, and I stumbled and almost fell. That wasn't what I meant by "take my breath away".  I walked on. 

I saw a woman walking towards me, walking her dog. It was a cute collie and as we passed, we said "good morning". (Folks are VERY friendly, everyone speaks, or at least smiles and nods).  As she passed me, I saw she had, in addition to Cute Collie, a parrot on her shoulder!  Now that would have been something to photograph, but she had already passed. Darn.  Had we crossed paths again, I was determined to ask her if I could take a picture of her parrot, but she must have exited the circuit before we crossed again.

I got up to one of the cross overs.  Some people walk down and up the path, it's as close as we get to hills in Houston, but as I was coming up one of those trails when I blew out my knee, I avoid them at all costs. 

There might have been a dazzling display of God's majesty down that bridge, but my knee wasn't in the mood to explore. I crossed over at the street bridge (it's level!) and headed back up the other side. I was still hoping to see Parrot Lady. 

Apparently I also took a picture of the path itself:

Yeah, I don't have an artistic, creative eye.

I finished my circuit, ended up back at the park again, walked around the pool and tennis courts

and still hadn't had a spectacular sunrise, glistening dewdrop, majestic bird in flight moment. 

I did have a joyous, heart pleasing moment when I reached my driveway, but that was more because I knew there was air conditioning and ice water on the other side of the door and not because my soul was refreshed by spending time in Nature, communing with God and His majesty. 

Maybe tomorrow. I'll have my phone with me, and if I see splendor and majesty and wonder, I'll stop and photograph it.  And if I see Parrot Lady, I will DEFINITELY ask her if I can take her picture. 

And until I develop an eye for wonder and beauty, I'll appreciate the pictures of those who do have that ability.  

Oh, I hope the buzzards (and the carcass they were dining on) are gone tomorrow. Eww. Eww. Eww. 

 

I was reading Dear Abby ...

On my key ring I have as many, if not more, non-keys than anything else. My key ring is a good reflection of who I am:  I have a Winnie the Pooh house key, I have a Baylor key chain and I have a set of my son's dog tags. 

 The other weekend, Husband and I were at WalMart and a Winnie the Pooh Halloween window decoration (ok, two decorations!) jumped into my cart. 

The cashier was commenting on how cute it was and how much she liked Pooh, to which I had to respond, "Oh, me too!" and I showed her my Pooh purse, 

in which was my Pooh wallet 

and my Pooh cell phone. 

I also showed her my Pooh house key (see above photo). Yeah, I *win* that "Overly Obsessed" ribbon!

I've had people, when they see the Baylor key ring or the dog tags ask about them and I, of course, leap at the chance to talk about my precious children. I also have a Baylor Mom window cling on my car 

as well as an Army Mom sticker. 

I've had people tell me "tell your son thank you for his service" and once I had a gentleman throw me a sic 'em in the parking lot of Kroger.  

I have such public acknowledgments of my children that its almost expected that I'll get comments.  What I don't understand is the people who feel the need to respond with with something negative. When my son  left for Basic training, I had several people take that moment to tell me about their (brother / cousin / neighbor) who went to (Vietnam / Desert Storm / prison) and who now is (an amputee / suffering from PTSD / an addict) and as a result is (homeless / divorced / incarcerated).   Vietnam and Desert Storm I can sort of understand them telling me, but prison?  In their mind, my son going to Basic training is equivalent to their loved one going to PRISON?  And yes, I am aware that sometimes Soldiers get injured in combat. Telling me about your loved one who is now a homeless meth addict because of untreated PTSD does not give comfort to a mother's heart. 

It's not just Soldiers. When my daughter went to college, I was regaled with tales of Girls Gone Wild that would stop your heart. Again, I am sorry that your (daughter / niece / cousin) went to college and ended up (pregnant / alcoholic / an atheist) but honestly. Do you really think I need to hear that?  

I was reading Dear Abby this morning and one of the letters was from a military mom who had a son deployed in a combat zone.  She was writing about people who mean well, but say stupid or insensitive or even hurtful things. I found myself nodding in agreement, and I found myself slightly comforted in knowing that I'm not alone in experiencing this phenomenon.  

I can also painfully recall a couple of situations in which I, not knowing what to say, said things so stupid and so insensitive that, 30 years later, I still flush with embarrassment.  What's worse is the memory that, even when I realized I was totally making an ass out of myself, I KEPT talking. Like *more* stupid, thoughtless, insensitive words would be the solution. I am truly mortified at myself. 

Why do we struggle so?  Why is it so hard to say, "I'll keep you in my prayers" and then *stop talking*?  Why do we feel the need to share our horror stories?  Why do we tell pregnant women about our own 42-hour labors and then tell them they'll never sleep again?  Why do we tell high school students about "that student" who applied to 20 different colleges and got accepted nowhere?  Why do we tell graduating college seniors about our neighbor's child who graduated with a BA, and $40,000 of student loans, and is now waitressing at IHOP?  

I'm sick of it. I'm sick of receiving it -- please, unless I ask, do NOT tell me about your nephew who didn't come home from Vietnam or tell me about your cousin who was killed by a drunk driver while partying over Spring Break. I'm not your therapist. I'm a mom. I'm a mom with a deployed son and a college daughter. I can visualize enough horror without your help.  

Talk to me about my kids -- heck be quiet for two seconds and I'll *start* a conversation about my kids!  I love talking about them. I've got the key ring items and the car stickers to show that. Ask me about them, how they're doing, when they're coming home. But don't "bond" with me by telling me horror nightmare stories. 

In return, I will also try to remember that a hug is sometimes all that's required. I won't necessarily assume you want to hear my words of wisdom (ha!) and I'll offer a prayer and I'll remember that in silence, people can open up --if they want to. Sometimes, people don't WANT to bond or have a relatable moment.   And that's ok, too. Some days I don't want to be Mom Of A Deployed Soldier. I just want to be Overly Obsessive Pooh Bear Enthusiast.  

When I say stupid, insensitive things (and I will), I hope I will be forgiven.  When someone feels the need to share a "let's bond" horror story with me (and someone will) I pray that I am able to smile and understand that it's coming, not from a place of hurtful intentions, but from good intentions. 

Ask me about my kids. Ask me what new additions there are to the Pooh Collection. (There will be. Guaranteed!). Ask me if there is something specific I would like you to keep in your prayers. Tell me about YOUR kids. Laugh with me, hug me, share in my Pooh obsession.  But please, don't tell me nightmare horror stories about things that I'm already aware of (and afraid of).  

And forgive me when I do to you the very same thing -- when you tell me your concerns about something and I respond with, "Oh, did I ever tell you about my cousin who ..."  

I am working on learning when to listen, when to speak -- and what should,  and shouldn't, be spoken. Sometimes words are unnecessary. Sometimes superficial chatter is the most appropriate thing. 

And always, Pooh talk is welcomed. Just ask the poor cashier at Walmart who made the mistake of telling me she was a fan of the bear!