Heading for New Mexico

When I came home this evening after church music rehearsals, I had a message from my cousin Jim, who lives in Bryan, Texas. He was calling to relay a bit of bad news in the family. Our Aunt Chick, as she was called by family, died yesterday after many years of life in a nursing home with Alzheimers'.

Chick, whose "proper" name was Geneva, was my dad's last surviving sibling. With her death another generation of the Smith clan is gone. This loss makes me and my cousin the senior generation. Since I have no descendents, my entire line will die with me on both sides of my family. Such morbid thoughts -- it's the same with many of my cousins as well. Very few on either side had children.

Jim did tell me that he is heading for Hobbs tomorrow and will piggyback a visit to a new grandchild on the way. I'm glad there's someone who will know the joy of passing on a portion of our history.

Like any unexpected emergency trip this one comes with a handful of headaches. It's a nine-hour drive from here to Hobbs and I have no air conditioning as you all know from previous posts. No chance that I can get it repaired in time for the trip. Can't afford to rent a car, I don't think. I should check on that before dismissing the idea completely. I have an 11-year-old hot car. Perhaps that is an option. Hmmm.

UPDATE: I checked and I have reserved a rental car. Just under $60 for three days. SO worth it not to drive a hot car! Woo hoo!

One tough thing is that payday is Saturday, too late for a bank run for cash. So the whole trip will have to go on plastic, something that sickens me. I thank God that I have that option, however.

Also grateful for having a cell phone available. That's new, too, and has become more important to me than I had expected.

Let's see. Chick's life was very interesting, but I want to wait until after the service before I say much about that. I will tell you her nickname came because of her lack of height. When she was a child, she was short enough to run around under the dining table. Family said she looked and acted like a little chick, constantly in motion. Heh, I turned out to be the tallest one at 5'. We didn't stand a chance, though, because Grandma Smith was 4'6".

I last saw my aunt at the home she shared with my Aunt Emma and my grandmother in Amarillo, Texas, on April 25, 1987.

She was the epitome of the phrase "tough broad." She was a registered nurse married to an oilfield mudder. When she made family visits back to Oklahoma from New Mexico, she drove alone across barren West Texas with my cousin in the back seat. Chick sat on a thick phone book as she drove. I remember one reunion at my grandparents' house where we all waited nervously for her arrival. Her big ol' car had betrayed her with vapor lock, which left her on the road crippled until things cooled enough to allow her to get running again.

She was a smoker and a beer drinker, tough as nails. No one would dare mess with her.

When I saw her last, I was struck by how much she looked like my father. Since he died in 1976 it was shocking to me to see her again, looking like him.

This could well be the last time we cousins get together, I'll not kid myself about that. Several years ago I held a cousins' reunion here in Oklahoma City and everyone but Jim was able to come. His sister Jane has since died. I suspect we're at the age now when we'll start getting calls or notes about this one or the other dying over the next few years. I'm the baby at 51.

Tomorrow will be a tough day because I'll have plenty of work tasks to compress into one day instead of two. I hope I can do it. If I make this trip I will have to leave early Friday morning.

Well, there are a few things I can get ready tonight, and I want to get a good night's sleep to gear up for what's ahead the next few days.

I suspect an afternoon start for my return trip Saturday, so I may spend Saturday night on the road, depending on how tired I am. I am almost counting on it at this point, coming on home Sunday. I might have to call this weekend my fall "vacation."

I'll catch up with everyone when I'm home again. I hope you have a more pleasant weekend.

Guess what?

Well, yeah. Big surprise.

I hopped in the car at lunch today to run to the nearby Taco Mayo for a burrito and taco. While I was at the drive-through speaker, the car started shaking violently and smoke started spewing forth from the hood, smelling of Freon. The car started losing power and died a couple of times. I was stuck -- couldn't get out of line because I was already pinned in front and back and had placed my order, so I shut the car down as long as the line wasn't moving. Finally I got my order and drove directly to the place that has been working on my air conditioner all year long (OK, just since July. Hey, only TWO months -- and 11 trips!)

Along the way I had to keep the RPMs up so the car wouldn't stall, shifting into neutral as I approached traffic signals so I could idle faster and not risk dying the final death.

And when I got to the shop, I took my lunch in and sat down. When Mike asked if he could help me, I said "I'm going to eat my lunch first and then we'll talk." Mike says "Eddie's not here today." (Eddie being the guy who "specializes" in air conditioning for them.)

"I know. It's Tuesday. It's his day off," I replied. "So is Scott, the manager, here today?"

Well, Scott is in the shop today, but he's making the rounds to the other stores and has gone to the salvage yard for a part for another customers at another store. He'll be back sometime.

I can wait. I finish lunch and watch some of the judge shows on TV. I complain that there are no new magazines and I need something to entertain me. Mike has the newest issue of "People" behind the counter. I make him cough it up and put my feet up on the table for a while.

I visit with another customer who asked me if I'd been in before. I laughed and gave her the short version of the long story.

She noted some green fluid on the ground. I asked Mike if that was antifreeze, because I've been down that road before with a different car. He assures me it is the coolant from the A/C with a dye in it to detect leaks.

Mike finally said the compressor virtually exploded. He doesn't want to touch it because Eddie has been been working on it so long and he doesn't know what all has been done.

Finally Scott returns. He's more than willing to make good on everything. He asks if I would be willing to take it to one of his other stores to let someone else look at it. He's going to get me a rental car while it's in the shop. And if that's not a satisfactory offer, or if the other guy can't fix it either, he is willing to give me back my money.

I asked him to give me a little time to weigh the options and had him disconnect the belt to the compressor. So for the short term, I still have no air conditioning.

Can you spell exasperated?

Hello again

I haven't had a lot of blogging time this past week, so I apologize for leaving my haircut photo at the top of the page for so long. Yeah, I like it, quite a lot, but not really a week's worth. HA!

Anyway, I'm just taking a short break from my sewing machine. I've been in creative pursuits this weekend. I made a skirt Saturday night and a blouse tonight. They don't go together, but both go with other things already in my closet.

I've always enjoyed sewing, even in my teen years when it was a necessity rather than an expressive art. I can spend hours in a fabric store. I didn't think I still had it in me until the middle of last week, when I was exhausted from the everyday bits of my life. I think I spent about six hours total in three fabric stores -- well, more than that if you count the three quilting stores I went to on Friday.

I am well stocked for a while on fabrics, patterns, threads, necessary zippers and the other doo-dads that are a part of sewing. My den is set up, production style, with my sewing machine and ironing board. How handy it is to have them set up next to the TV! I've learned that most of my TV time is spent with my eyes on something else with an occasional glance at the screen, more like radio.

There's something so familiar and relaxing to me about being set up in such manner. I can remember working on particular garments in junior high with my sewing machine set up on a folding Army surplus table. I loved that table and miss it. I don't know what happened to it in the years after I left home. Now I use whatever open surface that is available around the house. There was a relaxing rhythm to the work, and I was surrounded by my family as they did whatever activity they were involved in. Dad would read while my mom and brother would be mostly focused on the TV.

Well, friends, I'm going back to put in the side seams and sleeves on the blouse. After that it will just be the hems, and I'll do machine hems on this item. I'll finish before bedtime tonight, no doubt about it.

Tomorrow I hope to tell you about my great day last Friday. See you later!

I could stand it no longer!

And so I went shorter!

I'm talking about my hair. I had these wild dreams about growing it long enough to donate to Locks of Love, along with a friend from church. But I measured a couple of weeks ago and it was only six inches long below my earlobe. To donate, the hair has to be cut at 12 inches or longer. That would put it down w-a-a-a-y too long. It was already a struggle dealing with it just past my shoulders. So yesterday I ran off and here is the result ...



Can't get much shorter than this! (I must remember to use less shampoo.)

OK, I did find a "before" photo from a couple of months ago. My hair was just a smidge longer -- below my shoulders.

It is finished

The 10th time is the charm! After today's trip to the repair shop (Day 10 in the saga) my car now produces cold air when the A/C is turned on!

Of course it does. I woke up this morning to discover the heater had come on in the house overnight. It was 63 degrees when I left the house.

Despite the cooler temperatures, the A/C is still a critical part of the car. Yesterday, during the torrential downpour in the morning, I was in dire need of the compressor as I was hydroplaning my way to church. Not only does the thing do the cooling, but it also is the key component of the defogger/defroster. I feel much safer knowing I won't have to carry a towel to clear my view on days such as those.

And man, wasn't that some rain! I was house-/dog-sitting for my friends in the country. Leaving the house requires putting the dog in the outdoor kennel, where she has a crate for keeping dry and nominally cozy.

Yeah.... by the time Miss Emma Lee was in her digs I looked like someone had taken a barrel of water and dumped it over my head. I barely had time to track down a plastic garbage bag and pack up my hair dryer and a change of clothes. After a 40-minute drive to church I was able to get changed and get my hair dry, get my choir robe on and make it to the loft in time to play handbells. There were only a few folks that saw me completely soaked before I was able to make myself quasi-presentable. Choir robes are a wonderful thing!

By the way, I was able to secretly work on the quilt project some yesterday afternoon. I got all the strips and block sections cut, unseen. They will be surprised when they see I started working on it at their house.

Catching up

I've been away from home for a couple of days. Wednesday night at the end of choir practice we got the word that one of the older ladies at church (79 years old) had been in a hit-and-run car accident. This is the widow of my friend who died in February -- a woman I feel very close to and very protective of. I went straight to the hospital, which is just a few blocks from the church, to see her in the E.R.

Our minister was there, as well as her granddaughter. Shortly after, another couple of friends came as well. She had had some X-rays and a CAT scan and we waited with her for the results. Eventually she convinced most of them that she would be fine, so we had a prayer with her and people slipped on home. We expected she would be kept overnight, but at 10:30 I was able to take her home. I stayed with her to check her through the night for signs of concussion, but she snuck in to my room and reset the alarm clock so I wouldn't wake her at 3 a.m. The little stinker! I got up at 6 to make sure she was OK and she told me to go back to bed!

Yesterday, around my work assignments, I managed to run several errands for her. Fortunately she had a friend doing some painting on her house and he arrived just as I was off to take care of some things. He finished up and was getting in his truck just as I returned. That's good timing!

Among the errands I ran was cleaning out her car at the body shop. The wrecker service took her car over there just before I went by the impound yard, so I had to go track it down at the second location. She had had some clothes altered and picked them up at church just before the wreck. That's the main thing that concerned her -- she wanted her clothes!

I got everything from the car, then she sent me back to look for her handicapped parking card and to get the tag off the back of the car. I hadn't been able to find the hang tag when I went through it the first time but she said she kept it in the middle between the two front seats. That's when a light went off -- when I got back to the yard I felt underneath the console as far as my fingers could reach, and I could feel it. It had been thrown below the console, between it and her car seat where it couldn't be seen. And I found an envelope with a few dollars in it that she was also worried about. That was truly a God-inspired lightbulb moment for me. I felt like Nancy Drew!

She's feeling a little better -- still a little sore but she insists on keeping active to work through the pain and not let it overwhelm her. She's still sharp enough that I'm not worried about a concussion. Now she's antsy to get a rental car from her insurance company until she can find a new car. This afternoon, when I finish my work, I'll take her to the body shop so she can see the car and I can get some photos of it for her.

Interesting note: The young driver who plowed into her lived in the neighborhood. Witnesses saw everything that happened and were of great assistance to her and the police at the scene. One witness followed the young man because he was her neighbor. She followed him to see if he went home. Sure enough, he did, so she returned to the police to let them know where he was. DUH!

As my friend was waiting for her test results, resting on a gurney in the hallway by the nurses' station, the police brought in the young man and his girlfriend, in handcuffs. They were seated in front of the nurses' station, just feet from us. Both were so impaired that it was difficult for them to sit upright in their chairs. They were there to be tested for substances that could have contributed to the accident, but it was generally accepted among those on the floor that these two were stoned out of their ever-lovin' minds. Sometimes the system works in delightful ways. The young man seems to have a record an arm long of reckless driving and driving while impaired. One officer told us "he's a very, very bad boy. But she's worse."

And so that's my adventure so far this week. I'm off to get my work done now, as expediently as possible, so I can take care of a few other things later in the day. The weekend will be busy as I'll be house/dog sitting for other friends, and the handbell choir is playing Sunday morning. Looks like I'll be seeing a lot of road before Monday gets here!

Y'all take care!

Working on projects

Shhhhh! This is top secret!

I've got some quilt projects in the works. I spent a small fortune on fabrics today -- it took a long time to get all the 19 pieces cut at Hancock's. I've got the dark reds and purples in the washing machine right now, getting ready for cutting into quilt pieces. I'll be using a speed strip method so I don't have to cut itty-bitty squares and sew them back together.

The first one I plan to make will be a nine-patch. If I have successes, I will post progression photos.

I've got enough in my stash now to make three or four quilts. That's not counting scraps and fabrics already in my stash. I may wind up scrounging through those after I get the first projects under way.

These quilts will be gifts.

Today in Sunday school one of my friends and I co-taught a lesson on "The Keeping Quilt." We talked about the various ways we humans share The Story through the ages through a variety of means -- the oral tradition; the written word; songs; art; and quilts.

Family histories are shared through these practical home-made coverings. Fabrics often came from family members' clothing. There may be other sources of materials with historical significance.

In my family's case, the farm families made good use of the materials in feed sacks. Feed companies knew they provided considerable usable yardage for farm families and accommodated the tastes of their customers' wives and daughters.

Other details found in quilts also tell a family's history. In my family, my great aunt Beulah (known to us as Bo-Bo) was engaged to be married in the early 1910s. As we know, World War I broke out and America's young men fought their first battles overseas. Bo-Bo's fiance, Maynard, was killed in one such battle; she never married.

Back home, though, Bo-Bo and my great-grandmother Laura Lee Deal had been working to prepare items for her household. In the works were two quilts made of similar fabrics. After Maynard's death, there was a change in plans in the quilting of one of the pieces. In the solid squares of this quilt, they quilted the pattern of a war eagle where otherwise plain quilting would have gone. A soldier was dead; his love remembered for the rest of her life.

Their love story was told every time the quilts were brought out of storage. It was a ritual my mother performed on special occasions, to make sure I learned about that bit of family history from a young age.

One of the quilts went to my mother's sister. When she died, her children (my cousins) had no interest in keeping that quilt. It was already packed in a black trash sack when they asked me if I would be interested in having my aunt's quilts. I immediately shouted "YES" and rescued four quilts from the trash pile. I am sorry my cousins didn't understand the history behind the family quilt they had in their hands, but I am delighted that the two companion quilts are back together and living, for the most part, in Bo-Bo's cedar chest, next to my bed.

Another family treasure is my mother's baby quilt, made by my great-grandmother Laura Lee Deal. She embroidered the details of when it was made, by whom and for whom on the back. That's the way to share the history of a quilt -- with an embroidered provinance.

I'll share more about the quilts I'm working on later. For now, I can only hope they will some year have more of a meaning than the money I spent today at the fabric store. Honestly, I don't think that will be a problem.

Cozy Corner Challenge!

In the previous post I showed you a picture of my den, one of my favorite spots in my house. So instead of a meme, I am issuing a photo challenge. I've seen other bloggers do this and it is just fascinating! Your assignment is to take a photo of your favorite corner of your house -- and explain why you like it so much. Mine is the photo below, and I think the reason I like it is because it is cozy. Also because it's a bit of a peculiar room, having once been outside of the house. It is an addition, as is apparent from the exterior brick wall leading to the dining room and the former porch light which is still working.

And I mentioned the "curtains" are really quilts covering floor-to-ceiling French doors that have been used to enclose the walls of the room.

Here's a view from a different angle showing the wall of cabinets you'll see from the sofa. Lots of games, books and hobby things are stored behind those white doors.



Heh, I just noticed how that suitcase next to the chair seems to be smiling. It's filled with the memorabilia of my mom's life -- photos of her friends from nursing school, song sheets from bars in Chicago they visited. No wonder it's smiling!

The new year begins

I don't know about the rest of you, but I still seem to measure my life in semesters. Yes, even at 51, September is REALLY the new year on my internal calendar. Life begins anew at Labor Day. And, well, looky. The calendar shows that this is Labor Day weekend.

Alicia over at Posie Gets Cozy is on a little hiatus as she gets her new shop area set up at an antiques mall in Portland. Oh how I long to go back to Portland now that I know about her and so many other creative bloggers who live there. It's almost as though I've found a nest of kindred spirits there. Someday, perhaps. Someday.

And Kuky at Kuky Ideas is making the CUTEST dolls. I adore them! Kuky just has this incredible simple, cute style that makes me laugh, even on the days when that's the last thing I want to do. I feel so lucky to have stumbled on her blog. And her baby is getting new teefies too. Look at the photos. The other day I also discovered her blog about her dogs. I don't know how I've managed to miss out on that one for so long. I've fallen in love with them too now. Go visit Waldo and Nestle and give them a treat and a hug.

It feels as though the summer's heat has finally crested. We've had some rain the past couple of days. But no, we're in that period where it's still hot as hades most of the time. We may be scorched for a while, but not parboiled like in August.

What's the latest on the A/C? Well, Eddie tells me they have now been able to ORDER the part that's been on back order, and I should check with him on Tuesday. So no great holiday driving adventures for me over this long weekend. Not unless it snows. I'm not happy that I'm having to alter my lifestyle because of this machine, but that's life. I'd much rather have the freedom to get in the car and go if I feel like it without worrying about melting into the floorboards. Sigh.

One of my message boards has been having a thing where we show each other photos of our homes. Pretty much everything is fair game -- people ask to see parts of your house and if you're willing, you show them.

Well, you may know how this goes, if you know me. Clean, clean, clean... photograph. Move to next area. Clean, clean, clean... photograph. Oh, but that means moving stuff from Area 2 to the space you cleared out in Area 1 for the photos there. Eventually the clutter from the guest room somehow winds up on the kitchen counters because that's the only space still open! Sigh.

My goal for today is to actually move some of that clutter all the way out the front door if there's not a proper place for it. I'd like to preserve some of the clean spots!

Here, I'll share one of my favorite rooms with you since I'm kind of proud that I finally got it looking livable again. My den. I've gotten rid of all my dead plants. At one time it was a lush room with many living, gorgeous plants. One day I made a semi-conscious decision that I wasn't going to fool with them any more. I can't believe I did that, but I think it was at a particularly hard time when I did not have the energy to be concerned with them any more. Now I wish I had maintained them. But I'll start replacing them, slowly, so I can stop when I get to the point of "enough!"

I love this room, but don't spend enough time in here any more. Most of my waking hours are spent in my office. Time for that to change some. The den is a place where I feel most cozy, especially when I have friends over to share the space.

Here, come pull up a chair and let's chat!

Now here's a corporate charity that makes a difference!

Tide's CleanStart offers victims of disaster loads of hope.

After Hurricane Katrina, Tide® and the America's Second Harvest Network partnered to create Tide® CleanStart — a program that provides clean clothes and a sense of comfort to families through a free mobile laundry facility.

The Tide CleanStart mobile laundry facility contains 32 high-efficiency washers and dryers; can wash and dry approximately 10,000 free loads of laundry over a four week period; can do about 300 wash and dry cycles a day — equal to one year's worth of laundry for a single family.

Go Here to Tide's corporate site to see more about this incredible helping hand program. And imagine yourself as a victim of last year's hurricane. Wouldn't it be a huge blessing to you to have any way to feel just a little cleaner after that?

Thanks, Tide, for helping to turn things around with this corporate outreach!

Good morning! It's Saturday!

Yeah! And you know what? It is one of those increasingly rare Saturdays for which I have no commitments or obligations! This is a play-day Saturday! No guilt for leaving chores undone because I've helped a friend move, for example. No feeling bad about making it someplace on time. Nope. This day is MINE! All MINE! Bwah-haha!

It has started well. I slept in, and even when the clock radio went off I dawdled in bed and listened to the entire "Car Talk" on NPR this morning. Those guys are a hoot -- comedians and good information all in one. Makes me feel better about driving an old car when I listen to them, especially when I can diagnose car problems along with them from the listeners' calls.

To update y'all on my car situation: At the moment I am completely without any air conditioning. Last Saturday I was out of town, and an an inopportune time the compressor bearings went out and started creating an embarrassingly horrific sound. Nothing I could do would stop it. Leaving church was also embarrassing as there were plenty of people in the parking lot listening to it and wondering if my car was ready to explode.

Monday morning I learned that the evaporator core (No. 4 for those who are counting) is on back order until the end of August! Another week, probably, at the earliest -- that now puts us over the Labor Day weekend and I am betting that I won't hear a peep until AFTER the holiday. So I explained the problem has now contaminated the compressor and the bearings are squawling. They offered to disconnect the belt and change the clutch on the compressor to at least stop the noise. He'll also get me a compressor at cost, saving me hundreds of dollars, when the evaporator core is available and we install that. I may have cool air in October, right about the time we all have cool air.

This hot summer is tough on a delicate little wilty flower like me, although someone said I was more like a sunflower -- and sunflowers are tough! (Thanks for that, someone! But remember sunflowers are also tall, which I decidedly am not.)

Honestly, August heat and I don't get along. I'm also sporting a major sunburn from having spent a few too many hours outside without protection while doing some work. I'm about as white as a sheet of paper and it doesn't take a lot of exposure for me to get a serious burn, so a couple of hours outside in a rural area is just begging to get cooked to a crisp.

On the other hand ...

Yesterday morning I had a great experience, meeting someone for coffee at Starbucks. It's a whole different sort of place at 10 a.m. than at other times of day. There were a couple of moms there in different areas -- one momma giving her baby boy a bottle on the soft club chairs and another momma with her toddlers playing in a nook with a couple of love seats. The toddlers were enjoying some of the baked goods for a special treat, alternating between taking bites and coloring and playing with blocks of some sort. It was quiet and serene, and, I noticed, everyone had smiles on their faces. Especially the momma feeding the baby boy his bottle.

There was also a man at a table for one, reading the morning paper as he sipped his coffee, and an older couple. I think they were probably traveling through because they asked to have a thermos filled. It was fun watching them as they decided what to order -- one would pick something only to be reminded by the other why that was a bad choice. Then they flipped roles. It was a wonder they ever were able to place an order, but when they did get their treats they went to sit on the patio under an umbrella.

The cool slate floor and the blond wood ceiling features made the coffee shop a serene, almost holy place for these special Friday-morning moments. Through the windows we could watch a gardening crew replacing some of the small shrubs that had fallen to the summer heat.

Lazily watching these gentle moments made me glad that I had arrived early. I found myself able to breathe a little more deeply than usual, pulling out memories of my childhood and those special moments with my own momma when we would do something different, like going to a little cafe for lunch instead of eating at home. Such times as these are special bonding moments with children -- times when adults can show them, even without words, that they are special and deserve those prized moments and experiences.

I felt special too, when my acquaintance arrived. I wasn't sure why she had called for coffee, but had a bit of a fear of a serious conversation about some recent conflicts involving other people. I could not have been more wrong.

Instead, she started by asking me how I was doing, and was unwilling to take the glazed-face "Fine" that we all respond with. She gave me a chance to voice all the nasty little problems that have accumulated recently. And I appreciate it so much.

We wound up having a great, long, serene conversation, exchanging some real truths about what is happening in both of our lives. Sometimes just speaking the truths helps to take the pressure off of those things we're dealing with -- knowing that now there is another human being who knows and understands what we're facing.

During our conversation we also kicked around some creative ideas that we're going to discuss further, in another morning coffee session. Ideas for worship and a women's retreat and other spiritual expressions.

Funny how one morning's coffee klatch can have such an effect. Funny how one hour spent like this can take someone from an acquaintance to a friend. Thanks, my friend.

30 Years Ago This Morning

I was 21 years old and had finished a summer internship at a large newspaper. I had spent this last weekend at home with my family before the start of what was supposed to be my final semester at the university.

Things had seemed normal, but not. Nothing was the way it used to be, but we thought it was going the way it was supposed to be. Until Monday morning.

As usual, my dad had gotten up earlier than everyone else to get ready and leave for work. His habit was to get up about 6:30 a.m., smoke and drink his coffee, then get himself dressed and ready to leave about 7:15 so he'd be at work at 7:30. Just the same, every morning of my life. Normally the rest of us stayed out of his way -- truth is, the sound of him closing the door was our cue to rise.

And so this Monday started like every other day that I had been in this household. But I was changing -- this had become less and less my home over the past three years since I went to school 120 miles away. The daily rituals weren't mine so much, any more. Over the summer I had made my first "real" money during my internship.

My schedule wasn't like my dad's, though. All summer I had worked nights, starting at 3 p.m. and getting off at midnight. Then there was the 20-mile drive back to my college town, where I was still living with my roommates.

So this Monday morning was a bittersweet shadow to remind me of 21 years of habit, about to end for a lifetime of something different.

My mom and I got up after we heard the screen door shut. It was late August, and like always the front and back doors was open to circulate the little bit of cool breeze through the house. We didn't worry about closing the doors at night, much less locking them. Back then there was nothing to worry about unless a stray cat managed to slip through after fanagaling the screen open.

After we got ourselves dressed, Mom and I went downtown to the bank, ready to get the money I'd need for my last semester's living expenses. Scholarships had paid all of my school expenses throughout my time at the university -- otherwise I don't think I would have been able to go. In any case, it was time to get the travelers checks I used for my "allowance," so to speak. We got them in $20 denominations to help space out my spending. One check a week was what I could have for incidentals.

Mom and I were joking with each other. "Oh, if you don't have any extra money you're using, I'll take it off your hands." That kind of stuff. My grandmother had recently died and my mom and her sister had coped by joking about grandma's estate in much the same way. The bank officer who was helping us didn't quite know what to make of our comments until we explained we were only teasing. Her expression would come back to haunt us later that day.

I think my brother must have stayed home that morning, because I don't remember him being with us when mom and I pulled up in the driveway in the Datsun. A car was parked at the curb and two men in suits were standing at the door. I don't know if Bob had answered the door or if they had just walked up as Mom and I were pulling in.
In any event, when they saw our car they turned towards us and waited for us to reach the porch.

They introduced themselves and asked to come in. It was at that moment I realized how tiny our living room was. There wasn't room for these strange men -- they didn't belong here and they shouldn't be in our house. There wasn't room for them.

"Mrs. Smith, I'm sorry, I have some very bad news. Bill died of a heart attack this morning at work, right after his coffee break. I want you to know that even if a doctor had been right there next to him, there was nothing that could have been done that would have saved him, he was gone that fast," one of the suits said.

Mom fell to the couch -- Dad's couch. I had never seen her like that and even now, 30 years later, I can't adequately describe her reaction. I had never seen her like that.

Bob, as I recall, said "No!" Then he started mulling the information over in his mind. One big tear rolled down his cheek as he looked from the men to my mom, then back to the men again. His face turned red and he started sobbing.

I felt my own face flush as the tears rushed to my eyes. Though they teetered on the brink of spilling over, I managed not to cry as I tried to listen to every detail the men had to report about what had happened.

Apparently, about the same time mom and I were joking at the bank, dad and his co-workers finished up their Monday-morning coffee break and were heading back to the machines when my dad went down.

"What's happening with Smith?" someone said. Someone else realized he was in trouble and called for the company doctor, who was in an adjacent building. He responded immediately and pronounced him dead.

I started making phone calls to tell neighbors, former neighbors and other friends. I might as well have saved my time because the news had already made it through the community grapevine. It was my first time to realize that gossip is an effective way to transmit information. Our old next-door neighbor was already sobbing when she picked up her phone.

Later that day or the next day I had to go back to the bank to do the inventory on the accounts and the safe deposit box so Mom would have access to everything. The same bank officer who had heard my mom and I joking was the one who did the inventory with me. I don't think I've ever seen a more sober face. I can't imagine what she must have been thinking.

Today it's hard to believe that was 30 years ago. I'm only four years younger now than my dad was that morning he died. My life is so much different than it was then, and miles different than I thought it was going to be.

Everyone who lived in that tiny house with me is gone now. Dad first; later my brother and finally my mom.

There's no room for any of us there any more.

Prayers, please

For dear friend J.T. and his family, on the passing of his mother. Her service was Saturday morning in our hometown. She was a warm, wonderful woman whose generous spirit will be missed while we remain on this side.

Blog Tipping*

I saw this on Connexions, the blog of Richard Hall, a Methodist Minister in South Wales. He notes that he saw it on
Bene Diction Blogs On and Ian’s Messy Desk.

Here's his post:

If you’re not familiar with blogtipping, it works thus:

* Choose three or more bloggers you admire and link to them;
* List three reasons why you admire each one; and
* Add one tip for each blogger.

Easy Peasy

Why not?!

(Note from Trixie: Well, this is very difficult! I enjoy so many blogs and it is very hard to choose just three. I appreciate all the blogs I read, but I want to introduce others to some of the blogs I've found more recently. I hope you agree or can see why I have chosen the ones I have.)



Kuky Ideas
1. Extremely creative in several ways; cute cartoons, great knitting projects, makes the best onesies I've ever seen.
2. The blog is an incredible journal of her baby's growing up. Cute stories, photos and videos -- you can just see this little person unfold right before your very eyes.
3. Each day's post makes me smile, just seeing your good humor and your talent.

Tip: Don't ever stop keeping track of Isabelle's progress, and I hope you are backing everything up "just in case." What a gift this will be for her later!

Alicia at Posie Gets Cozy
1. You make me believe the whole world is beautiful, the way I want it to be. I feel like you channel my inner visions of how daily life should be. Lovely beyond words.
2. That beauty extends beyond pretty colors and attention to details. I love the way you talk about Andy and family and friends. Stumbling across a magazine article on you while I was at the car repair shop just cemented that. And Audrey? A little furry angel from heaven!
3. Just a few words that wrap up the sense I have of you: Great food (Ina Garten!); beautiful fabrics (quilts!); keeping the best ideas (aprons! flowers!); hospitality (family and friends!).

Tip: No matter how much we, your public, may whine about change, always listen to your inner voice that directs your creativity. You are the leader. You must have your vision. Even if that means closing your store and finding a different outlet.

Junior the Bear
1. Hands down, best blog by a bear with an elite audience of readers.
2. Well traveled with a unique sensibility about relationships and the humans in his life.
3. A great reminder that it's not the size of the bear that matters, but the size of the life the bear lives!

Tip: Just keep up the good work, my little fuzzy friend. Your stories and photos are always refreshing, and I hope more people come to appreciate you the way I do.

This was really, really hard, choosing only three blogs to highlight. I may have to come back to this exercise again and again. I love all my blog friends!

*Blog tipping is in no way related to cow tipping, which is a practice we do not condone. (Note from Trixie: Nor do we condone "kid tipping," which is demonstrated when the cows take over in the animated film, "Barnyard.")

Happy Bloggivesary to me!

Trixie's Home is 2 today!

(Reflections may follow later. Right now, I'm going to the car repair shop ((yes, again; day 6)) to see if I'll ever have a cool ride. Hmm. Not long until the Great State Fair of Oklahoma starts, which explains some of the rain. Usually by the end of the fair's run, things are a might tolerably cooler.)

Hooray for good people!

Here's my church family at work. I asked for help from the mission team and they came through like champions. I got in touch with the chairman of the team and he put out the call to the guys at church who have chain saws. They were set to come to my house between 4:30 and 4:45.

About 3:30, I heard a chain saw start up so of course I went out to see what was happening. There was Bill, already hard at work. I hollered Hi! He said "Oh good! I got the right house. Can you imagine how surprised your neighbors would have been if I'd started on the wrong tree?"




Bill made short work of cutting up what was left of the Bradford. I was torn -- sad at the tree's loss but thrilled that the problem was being handled so well.

A police officer pulled up to the house across the street as Bill was cutting limbs off the main trunk. Bill had tied a control rope to help direct the tree when he made the cut to fell the trunk. The officer was watching as he interviewed my neighbor (I don't know what that was about but she was standing on her front porch and it looked like all she had on was a long T-shirt, like she had been asleep.)

Bill cut the wedges for the trunk cut and started testing the fall pattern. The officer got nervous and hollered "Let me move my car before you do that!!"
Hee hee.

Just about the time Bill finished cutting the major cuts, Paul pulled up. His son is the one who coordinated all the guys who were going to work on it. Paul was great at helping move branches to the curb and really cleaned up the area with a rake.



Before you know it, everything is cut, stacked and bagged. The street is clean and Paul even got some of the gutter mud cleaned out so the water from any more rain won't pool at my house.

All gone...



Now I have a barren yard and a clear view of my neighbor in the T-shirt.

The other tree is still there. It's a maple tree and I think this particular tree is ugly as sin, but it is healthy and strong. I don't know what I'm going to do about landscaping, but I've never liked the maple tree.

Fortunately, these guys saved me hundreds of dollars. Potentially thousands of dollars -- the Bradford could have completely toppled into my house in the next wind storm.

Yay for good people!!!

Oh yeah-- I also got my washing machine fixed this morning and while the repairman was here I had him clean out the innards of the dryer, too. One small problem later: I found a d-e-a-d m-o-u-s-e in front of the dryer later. SHUDDER!!

God bless city workers!

A city crew was just here picking up the tree that the chain saw hero cut up last night. Not only that, but they removed the big honkin' part of the tree that had been holding me captive, blocking my driveway. Now, it just looks like my tree has been on a severe diet.

I had called the leader of my church's mission team to ask for help. He is rounding up some of the men from church who have chain saws. The great news now is there is much, much less for them to do. The urgency has passed somewhat (provided we don't have another potent wind storm before they can come help me.) I do have a little concern that it wouldn't take much for this to topple over onto my house.

I've had some micro-vision of this. I went out to thank the workers and one of the guys told me that there are several houses down the street with uprooted trees. They are down past the bend where I can't see them. I pity everyone who has lost trees.

Even worse, the neighborhood has suffered a huge loss, apparently. The worker said that the NW 19 Boulevard, next street from me, lost many trees. It's a divided street with a long median through several neighborhoods. Many of the old, lovely trees in the median have been lost, along with those at homes adjacent.

The neighborhood will never look the same. This neighborhood was built in the 1950s and the trees were planted at that time. How sad.

The morning after

Pardon my French ...

... But holy crap!!

In the 20 minutes it took me to cook my dinner, it started getting dark, then it started raining then the wind started blowing. I was looking out my kitchen door to see how the trees were doing. They were blowing horizontally. I figured I better go look out front.

Here's what I saw:

1. My tree! My beautiful tree!!
2. My car! Too close to my car!!!
3. That is rain blowing horizontally across my neighbor's roof across the street.

Yeah. In that 20 minutes, I got .90 inch of rain, winds up to 70 MPH. Split my beautiful Bradford pear tree right in half and blocked the street. Came within 10 inches of landing on my car. Knocked the birds and their nests out of the tree.

4. Here's from the street side. You can sort of see how much fell into the street.
5. Hero with a chain saw from the city.
6. The tree splits right down the middle. A few years ago the opposite side split off during an ice storm. I'm afraid my tree is a goner for sure this time.
7. One of the birds' nests.

Some of the poor, stunned birds were laying in the yard. I thought they were dead, but a mockingbird managed to fly away when I approached it. I am afraid of what's under all the branches that I'll find later.

NOTE: It was actually quite dark outside, explaining why these are blurry. I had to use the night setting which lightened up the images, but the shutter speed was too slow to keep a crisp focus. But I think you get the idea.

Draw a Pig!

Time for a new game. I found this one on Trixie in Transit's blog.

Draw a Pig and see what it says about your personality.

Go take the test for yourself before you read my score!


Draw-A-Pig

WARNING!!! Take the test first before reading further!!




I drew my pig:

Toward the bottom of the frame, you are pessimistic, and have a tendency to behave negatively.

Facing front, you are direct, enjoy playing devil's advocate and neither fear nor avoid discussions.

With few details, you are emotional and naive, you care little for details and are a risk-taker.

With 4 legs showing, you are secure, stubborn, and stick to your ideals.

The size of the ears indicates how good a listener you are. You are a good listener.

The length of the tail indicates the quality of your sex life. You have no sex life.