# 346 - Old Age Anticipation

Purple was her favorite color. My mother loved purple. Even her van was purple, so we called it the "Purple People Eater." But, in the last couple years of her life, she chartered her own Red Hatter group and did some funny things to spice up the remainder of her life. In the midst of her most fruitless battle, she tried to live it up to the fullest.

Since she had been battling cancer, she indulged in hats and head coverings of all sorts, the Red Hatter group gave her an excellent opportunity to wear the most outrageous ones of all.

My sister and I groaned and moaned about it, but we joined the group. However, since we were under a certain age, under the "Red Hatter" age of 50 I think, we could not wear red. We had to wear pink hats. Outrageous hats. My hat had a pink boa around the edge with huge plastic flowers glued to it.

But today, I look on one of my shelves and see my mom's favorite red hat made of felt. It is such a beautiful design, it looked great on her.

And I remember my mother's favorite poem because it explained how she was going to be when she reached old age, but she never got the chance to wear purple while in old age. Dying at 57 is not exactly considered dying "old." It is older, but not young, yet still, it is not an age considered to be of old age.

I wish she had gotten to chance to live out her poem, maybe I will be able to do it for her. After all, it has become my own favorite poem for me to focus on as I face each passing day.

I hope you enjoy the poem titled "Warning" by Jenny Joseph" which was published in 1960 as much as I do...maybe we all, man or woman, can relate to the days of wearing purple in our old age.

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~ Warning ~

 

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

-Jenny Joseph ~

 

# 345 - Lawyers and Chickens

This past week, I have been dealing with high stress matters. Isn't that the way life goes? For me, this is a season of whirlwinds. Part of it stems from a hurricane that hit us in 2008, but it seems the hurricane still hovers over my house.

In 2008, our house was destroyed by Hurricane Ike and we had difficulty getting our insurance company to pay on the claim. We had a great policy, but the people behind the policy were dragging their feet, so we hired a public adjuster...thinking they would work on our behalf to expedite our claim and to get us the most possible for our structure claim. Little did we know, the P.A. would adversely impact our desperate situation.

Sadly, the public adjuster (P.A.) did not do their job because they were too lazy, too passive, too prone to make blatant mistakes in writing, and to top it off, they could not do simple math associated with policy numbers and insurance claim payments. This was the type of representation that made me realize that I should have kept doing the claims process on my own because I still had to continually direct the P.A.'s attention to their repeated mistakes. All that hiring a P.A. did was to allow a third party to enter the scene and for them to create more work for me to handle. I had mistakenly been led to believe the Public Adjuster would take a load off my shoulders, not pile an unbearable load on my head.

For those of you going through a nightmare for an insurance claim, beware of Public Adjusters. I would suggest hiring a solid contractor who is accustomed to dealing with insurance claim paperwork and that is not thinking that his billing methods are adjustable for him to take extra funds to line his pocket. If he is billing your insurance company for $45,000 worth of work, you better get your money's worth. Some contractors will want to do $30,000 worth of work and pocket the extra $15,000 from your policy amount because they know how to alter the paperwork to make it look like they are doing more. To protect yourself, get a line-item bids from three different contractors, check their references and do not even discuss your policy limits with them. All the contractor should be concerned with is preparing sufficient documentation to show detailed repair itemization for the damages to be handled.

Regardless, when an insurance policy is involved and a contractor is necessary, it is strictly their job is to provide goods or services within your budget and this is the reason for getting bids. A good contractor will make sure all the bases are covered for necessary repairs. But, it is a home-owners responsibility to not let a contractor pump up charges just because they feel an insurance policy is their ticket to pocketing money. So, you have to be very careful. Our neighbor had a contractor who would do work on their house and never give them a breakdown of the costs involved because he was had full access to their policy information and he had been submitting paperwork to the insurance company for work that far exceeded an appropriate charge. All that did was eat away at the policy limits they had for structure repairs and leave them with less funds and less work done on their house. Not a good combination.

In our situation, due to the negligence and deceptive trade practices of the P.A., we had to obtain the services of an attorney to get the insurance company to pay on our claim and we won our case against the insurance company. As for the Public Adjuster, we were willing to let bygones be bygones and to not call attention to them being the reason for our claim problems. However, the P.A. got a case of the greedy-guts because of our judicial award, and I found myself amazed, again, at the sense of entitlement that some people seem to embrace.

After we had to go through hell and back to get our claims resolved, the Public Adjuster had the audacity to feel entitled to our legal reward. The legal reward that did not include extra "fun" funds, we only received enough to put our house back together. As for the P.A. and their philosophy...Isn't that a great way to make money? To not represent the client, then when the client is forced to go the legal route to get paid...the P.A. continues to sit back, see the claims process finally resolved through the court system, then file a suit to see if by chance it will benefit their own bank account. Seems like so many people think it's easier to make money by suing rather than by working for it. If the P.A. had worked for their money and adjusted our claim and helped us to obtain a settlement, we would have been thrilled to pay 10% of the adjusted funds to them. But, the P.A. dropped the ball, leaving us with no option other than to hire an attorney.

Since this worthless public adjuster sued me, I was forced to counter-sue. Not exactly a merry-go-round experience, but it is necessary. Therefore, over the past year, I have been spending a major amount of time sifting through old emails, documents, notes and making sure the attorneys have everything in their hands. It doesn't get into those hands unless I put it there and it's been a tedious process. Between my photographs and HUNDREDS of documents that have been provided, I am tucked out.

Trying to remember the details of happenings from 2008 is not always easy. But, I keep working at it because I have no choice. And this past week, my attorney several bombshells that had me fuming to the core. It turns out that the company we hired did not even have a public adjuster license at the time of signing our contract. Two of their people had their licenses, but I would never have signed to have them represent us because I was told that the "company" was a public adjusting company and had a team of experts on their behalf. Turns out, that was not exactly the truth. For public adjusters, the individuals must be licensed, but the company itself can be licensed as well. In my situation, the company that I thought I was hiring did not even have a current license of its own.

About a week ago, I had given my attorney a copy of licensing information I discovered online for the Texas Board of Insurance...she took it further and did find out the company was in the midst of a lapse. Just another disclosure the company kept from me at the time I signed to have them represent us for our claim. Even though my attorney does not magically have the information needed to move forward with this lawsuit, I am more than willing to work hard to give them all the ammunition I can provide. Good thing I did not forget to share that little "simple" piece of research I had conducted with my attorney. That little detail has blossomed into a big issue. All those details add up and better help the attorney put an overall picture together so they can put their dukes up for a solid fight.

As for me, I will not shirk in my duties to defend myself in this lawsuit. I will prepare in every way necessary. Things do not simply get accomplished on their own or because we have high wishes, God gave us appendages, a brain, to ears, a mouth, and the ability to put it all to work in preparation for a good cause. The efforts will be worthwhile.

As Abraham Lincoln said, "Give me six hours to chop down a tree, and I will spend the first four hours sharpening the axe."

So, I am being diligent in my preparation. It's always easier when someone else does the preparing, but I am not taking the easy way out...I confront it with knowing that I am taking the precious time needed to sharpen my axe.

During the week, to decompress, I go outside and spend some time with my chickens. This past week we got a lot of needed rain, so the girls were pitter-pattering around in a couple of mud puddles and loving it.

Beaker, my girl with the top beak missing, is the happiest of all. Every morning she flies up into my arms and I am ready to greet her with a smile.

Beaker always looks as if she has a little pouting expression.

Since her upper beak is missing, her food must be in a high pile for her to be able to get a few morsels into her mouth. The pecking action is not the same without a top beak. Here, she has eaten her little pile until nothing is left,, so I will pour another little pile of her own. She never gives up.

Her lower beak at least helps her to still do chicken-like pecking. But, it's much more difficult for her to eat than it is for the other birds.

And she is laying eggs. The egg on the bottom right is one of Beaker's eggs. I was delighted to find her sitting in the chicken coop, snuggled into a spot and ready to lay an egg! Finally, there are more eggs to be found everyday.

Even with the mud and the muck, this old girl is looking pretty good. She's keeping an eye on me as I take a few pictures.

Just so everyone remembers, she makes it clear that she is the "A" bird around here.

Now that it's on the record, she can strut her stuff in the opposite direction, but she is still watching me closely.

My chickens are a lot of fun. I look forward to the day when I am living on my acreage and able to watch some chicks join us the old-fashioned way instead of purchasing them through a store's check-out.

The yard is thankful for the drenching rains. The chickens have pecked the garden clean of anything they find tasty. Gardens and chickens do NOT mix. Chickens have halted all my gardening activities because all of it will be wasted energy. The chickens rule the yard. But, I will eventually have a garden design on my acreage that will cater to my need to grow vegetables on a manageable scale while enjoying the chickens in an area that is far from my home-grown goodness.

All six girls are happy and very accustomed to me hanging out with them. They are good at striking a pose on cue.

As for this chicken in the picture below...I still do not have enough chicken knowledge to determine whether or not this is a Jack or Jill. If this is a rooster, he's sweet enough. I don't believe there are any spurs to be seen. It's hard to tell if this is a rooster because this chicken is healthier than its buddy because this bird has both beaks intact; I cannot mistake the larger size for any sign that it is a rooster because Beaker would probably be the same size if she had her upper beak. I guess time will tell. This bird is about five months old.

I can tell you this...it is more fun being with my chickens than sitting with attorneys. On that note, at least my attorneys are not chickens.

# 344 - Cary Grant Kept His Britches

Old movies on the Turner Classic Movie channel are great to have available to watch. I love to see how things looked in these days...the clothes, the homes, the furnishings...the art of conversation and entertaining.

One of the old movies I watched this past week starred Cary Grant, filmed around 1952. This movie, "People Will Talk" is about cutting edge material of the day, a man wanting to marry a woman that he knows is pregnant by another man.

Interesting topic for rigid thinking in the 50's, to be sure.

I froze my DVR for some pictures and since I have sited the source, I hope I will not end up in jail for crossing Ted Turner. After all, who can resist a woman drooling over a Cary Grant moment?

The photo below is of an awesome country front porch with an area that curves outward for more visiting space. Good idea. The porch is surrounded by bamboo screens, the same kind my mother always used. Today, you can get those at IKEA. Back in Cary Grant's time, I have no idea where they found them.

Oh, heart, be still!

I'm trying to stay focused...

This old-fashioned barn is amazing. I can only imagine the vibrant color it displayed. But, even with its black and white presentation, its grandness is evident.

Finally, I get to watch Cary try to open this fence, which seems to be the most sturdy I've seen, ever. The corner posts are massive. In this scene, the farm dog comes running out barking at him, so Grant high-tails it back to his car. I found it humorous. Run Cary, run! If it had been my dog Howdy chasing him, he would not have had time to make it back to his car without some damage to his britches.

I would be glad to move into this farm house that the poor pregnant girl could not wait to leave behind. Of course, she was following Cary Grant, so I guess the farm was not so important any longer.

I wonder...are there anymore Cary Grants in the world?

Well, as far as I am concerned, at least there are Cary Grants for the span of a movie and that is enough for me, then I can go back to doing boring things such as scanning more documents or back to cleaning baseboards.

Tomorrow, it's Jimmy Stewart day.

# 343 - A Heart's Treasure

Getting to spend some precious time with my 83 year old grandmother is so important. I miss my mom and she misses her daughter, but we have each other.

My grandmother is like a best-friend. If we had been friends, in the same generation, we probably would have torn the place up. We always have too much fun together.

The two of us spent Friday night together...talking, laughing, and catching up. I made dinner for both of us and we enjoyed sharing a meal, like old times.

Taken September 14, 2012

I hope God grants me the ability to live into old age and to be as wise and good-humored as she is, especially after all of the rough times she's been through in life. She reminds me that we make our own place in this world; it's up to us how we want it to look. How we set up our environment is going to reflect much of how we feel, day by day. This woman knows how to surround herself with beautiful things that have wonderful memories tied to them.

Even on the hard days, I am so happy to have special people in my life.

I realize, with gratitude, that I came into this world well loved and I will die well loved. What more can a person ask for beyond that simple, yet powerful blessing?

# 342 - My Goldilocks Chair

All the chairs in my house are nice, but they are designed for taller people. Most people are taller than I am, so it is rare to be able to sit in a chair that feels right for my body. I have longed to have a chair that would give me a Goldilocks moment, a chair that is not too big and not too small, but just right. This weekend, by unlikely chance, I found my chair.

Sunday, I had several errands to make and as I passed by the local Goodwill store, I decided to stop in and take a look around. As for Goodwill, if anyone ever has a donation to make, I firmly believe it should be made to Goodwill, founded by a good-hearted minister nearly 100 years ago. If you see someone working behind the counter at Goodwill, it just might be a woman who is living in a homeless shelter, trying to rebuild her life. Over the years, I have taken several car-loads and truck-loads of items to Goodwill for donating. This organization will continue to be my first choice for donated items.

This weekend, the store was filled with the Sunday church crowd. People were scurrying about, having a good look at things on the shelves, on the racks and in the back of the shop. So many items have a good solid structure, but simply need a face-lift, such as the lamps. Some of those lamps had to have cost a fortunate when they were first purchased, but the paint had worn away and the shades were missing. Still, many lamps had a sturdy foundation with great styling. There were two awesome lamps I wished to have been able to bring home to be renewed, but alas, they were left at the store.

As I walked around, I found this toy aisle with a large play horse laying on its side. After picking it up and taking a good look at it, I could not believe that such an old toy with deep character had been sent to Goodwill.

I put it in the basket. Little did I know the horsey would make such great friends with my four-legged furry friends at home.

All the while, I walked around the store and kept my eye open for a bookshelf to put upstairs in my spare bedroom. There were plenty of bookshelves, but they were the assemble-yourself variety and that God-awful cheap quality still shined through, time making them look worse off instead of richer through the passing of ownership.

In the back of the store, I spied this table. It had been mostly hidden because an old-style television was sitting on it. Closer, still, I ask a young gentleman nearby if he would mind moving the tv to the next table. He beamed and got to show off his muscles. And there it was...an awesome little side table. After some research, I've learned this furniture maker crafted these tables either from teak or walnut, but it is solid wood.

I can't pass on solid wood, not with those clean lines and the styling of the table's edges that are cast downward at every corner. Plus, who can beat $13.00 for a solid wood table?

Since I could not find a bookshelf, I decide to head out. I have found two interesting buys, a horse sporting a saddle and a Texas tribute-flag and a nice, sturdy solid wood side table.

Howdy is already trying to protect his new little friend.

Passing by the other furniture, I see people standing around looking at a couple of chairs. One of the chairs looks exactly like a chair that my great-grandmother would sit in while reading me books when I was about five years old. It sat there without a sitter and had just been unloaded to the floor for sale. I could not believe my eyes.

Like a magnet, the chair pulled me toward it, and in the midst of everyone looking and scratching their heads, and tapping their chins, I sat in the chair. Lo and behold, it held together like a dream, plus it rocked! The cushions had been cared for so tenderly that they appeared brand new. It was obvious that this chair had been well-cared for throughout the years.

Best of all, as I sat there, I felt relief from the near-constant back pain I endure. In 2009, I had a broken neck that required reconstructive surgery, so I'm held together by man-made engineering, which is never as good as the original plan. But, the comfort I felt while sitting in this chair is hard for me to find these days. My short legs fully reached the ground and this lessened the pull on my back, and I felt as if this chair had been built to my specific measurements. I closed my eyes for a second, enjoying the chair of perfection, only to open them to see more people wanting their turn at the seat.

As I stood up, my mind had been settled. I took a quick look at the underside, the backside and at other parts of the chair, blocking the chair from another sitter --- hey ---- it's still my turn and the inspection continues. Then I glanced at the pricing/inventory tagged on the upper cushion, it had been taped to the fabric. As a few other people began to push on the cushion and to tap the legs of the chair with their stubby shoe, I suddenly reached in between everyone, ripped the tag off the cushion and immediately "walked" to checkout.

Unbelievably, on my way to checkout, racing there, I had FIVE people either stop me, block me or tap me on the shoulder to ask if I was really going to buy that horse. Every person asked with such a sparkle in their eye, I wondered why everyone had been drawn to it. One lady said she had intended to go back for it, but she did not have a basket on her and wanted to see what the rest of the store had to offer. I smiled, while thinking, "...tsk, tsk, if you had truly wanted it, you would have taken it, laid claim to it, and not let another person get a chance to buy it."

I actually told her, "It's a beauty; I'm sure it will provide hours of fun for the kids in my family."

As I reached check-out, another person was behind me, asking about the chair. I was in line to check-out, I held up the tag for the chair and said said to the clerk, "I already have the tag and am buying the chair."

The clerk smiled and said to the woman, "That's how it works, the person with the tag is the one buying it."

I must say, the great  humorous thing about shopping at Goodwill is that you find one-of-a-kind deals in the store. If you find a good thing, there will not be a shelf lined with duplicates. If you see something you like, you better make up your mind and claim it. The next fun part is to get through check-out without someone wanting your chosen item as their own. There is something about watching another person with that beautiful vase heading out the door.

The next funny part was to get all the items home. Even though my purchases were of minimal value, I am not one to spend money. The budget for my leisure and recreation activities is rock-bottom. Plus, I spend very little gas because I am a home-body and proud of it!

I put the table, the horse and the chair cushions inside the truck and a young man loaded the chair into the truck bed for me. Driving home, in my rearview mirror, I could see the chair rocking and could not help but smile from ear to ear.

Finally, I pulled into the driveway at home and wondered how I was to get my goods inside the house.

I am not the kind of person who would hide a purchase, but the things I bought on this Sunday were kind of funny.

I make my first trip inside with the horse as my house-mate stood there ironing his uniform and watching a football game. I marched straight upstairs with the sizable horse and left her in the playroom. Then, back the stairs I went and out the door to get the table out of the truck's backseat. Back inside the house, up the stairs I climbed to my room and I set down the table. Whew, that solid wood table might be little, but it sure is hefty. Back down the stairs, out the front door, to the truck I go and I grab the chair's cushions. First, I give them a good beating to dislodge any potential dust, then I haul them back inside the house, through the foyer, past the man ironing clothes, and up I go around the curved staircase. Out of breath now, I take a moment to breathe --- in --- out ---- in ---- out --- and off I go downstairs again.

This time, I have a chair frame to manage. How will this be possible? Outside, I pull the chair to the end of the truck bed, attempt to lift it this way and that, then I find a good holding position and OFF I GO with the bulky chair in my arms. I get to the front door, manage to use part of the chair to catch the front door knob, open the door, and since I was on a roll and feeling incredible, I kept going...up, up, up, up the stairs I went with that chair until I reached the gameroom and down she went with great care.

What a trip!

I took a moment to look at the old-fashioned techniques used to construct this piece of furniture and wondered how old the chair might be. It's definitely an antique, and I know that some of the furniture building methods can help date a piece of furniture, so I will look into it.

But, the seat is not made of that flimsy crude we see today, the seat cushion is held firm by straps.

The wood pieces are doweled together, The rocking mechanism is made of metal springs.

I believe the wood is maple.

I cleaned it up. Vacuumed the cushions. Put it in my cozy room upstairs, along with the table, and I now have the most awesome reading chair I have ever owned.

Last night, after I watched a movie from the overstuffed leather chair in the gameroom, a chair that is comfortable enough, I retired to my room and sat in my chair for about an hour to read my book. Slowly rocking back and forth while reading, I began to fall asleep. I wondered who had owned this chair. What had she been like? Who gave her this chair? And I could not help but wonder, "Why was the original owner no longer able to sit in it?"

I said outloud, "You must be onto bigger and better things, but I promise you that I will take care of your chair and will enjoy it for a long time to come."

And I will.

# 341 - Books Without Batteries

Electronic books are great and have their place in today's society. However, I will never feel that hardcopy books can be completely replaced with the plug-in, charged-up version.

One of the things that the news is now releasing is that today's children have so much access to electronics that they are missing out on the real world. The real world of parks, bike riding, skate-boarding, hopscotching, jump-roping, hide and go seeking, and all of those other wonderful activities that only a child can tackle with a massive amount of energy and exuberance.

That youthful exuberance is what makes a childhood so dang magical! Once that time-frame in our lives has passed, we can never clamour enough to get it back. After that time has passed, it is truly in the past. For electronically-driven people who have children, I cry out for them to let those kids have a full, active childhood while they still can! The days of electronics dominating their lives will come soon enough, and there is a time for enjoying such things...for older people, such as me, such as right now...as I am 44 years old and sitting here involved with my "Reality Writing" in this blog.

With the fun times of video-gaming being trumped by online access with hand-held devices on all sorts that can be taken anywhere, it will probably become necessary for parents to eventually schedule actual play time outdoors or schedule a play date with another real live child for some old-fashioned interaction.

Sitting in the empty park with the rusted swings hanging from not being used, will those children with their scheduled dates know how to actually laugh instead of telling the other they are LOLing?

One of the fears of today, for the kids of the future, is that communication will be learned electronically, but that direct communication between two people or a group of children might be a thing of the past. Just as how my generation would watch couples do the jitter-bug on television, yes it looks so fun, but people of my time NEVER or RARELY actually experienced such a thing ourselves. What activities will the children of the future be left NOT experiencing for themselves?

For me, it is unimaginable. My children were raised in the time of video games, but I spent so much time outdoors with my daughters that they could not imagine being forced to stay indoors...that would have been pure torture.

Heck, I spent many a day laying on the concrete driveway with my girls, looking up into the sky and doing our best to perform some serious cloud-watching. Each of us would spot an image in the clouds...oh look, it is a giant heart with Cupid in the rear as wild horses go prancing by!

Well, not that detailed, but you get my cloud picture. We saw many bunny rabbits in those clouds.

For us, many days, for years, were spent riding bikes around the neighborhood. If my children were too young to ride a bike, they rode on a seat attached to the back of one of our bikes. Eventually, they got their own bike with training wheels. Finally, they would graduate to a bike of their own, usually pink.

One of the most fun things I can recall is riding bikes with my children, us each taking turns to lead the others, and the goal would be to wind our way down each neighborhood street in search of water sprinklers. On a hot day in Texas, riding a bike with the breeze flowing past, cycling through the water droplets, was incredible. Spending time on an electronic cannot give a full body experience such as that.

Virtual water sprinkler droplets? Really?

An electronic cannot impart the true smell of fresh air, the wind blowing through your hair, and the sun upon your skin.

More than that, I cannot picture a toddler in a house that does not have an assortment of books to explore. Can you imagine the young child who is not given the chance to hold a real book? The child who does not have the opportunity to feel a book's pages in their hands, to smell paper, to see print on a page that becomes a bit worn with time...that is indeed a sad picture.

I love holding a book in my hands and for my eyes to scan a printed page that I know my mother had once held and read. How can an electronic substitute that connective sensation?

What are children supposed to do to in order to have their grandmother's books available for their little hands to grasp?

All I know is that I will be one of those grandmothers who has a full children's library. My grandchildren will be able to hold and to read the same books their mothers read when they were little children. My grandchildren will be taught what it means to take great care of books and to have reverence for their existence. They will not have to plug in when they come over to get a good read, they will have access to old-fashioned books bound within a cover instead of within the glossy confines of an electronic device.

Through the years, I have taken great pains to keep many old books preserved and ready for the future to enjoy.

How much longer will be it before these books are no longer considered "worthwhile?" I already have a family member who is a teacher, an English teacher, and she refuses to buy another hard copy book; she insists the future of books is strictly an electronic future and that home libraries will soon be a waste of time, money and space. Shudder! This from an English teacher!

Needless to say, I was shocked, yet could not disagree more heatedly. My personal library will stand testimony to the fact that bound books are never to be a discarded piece of history.

If that is indeed the situation for our future, then I will be the grandma who has the library full of books that are considered antiques; these books will be the heirlooms of their keeping.

A few of the books below will be part of that collection...

This book is great for the kid who feels that their younger sibling is a pure monster. I had two little monsters while growing up, so I loved this book myself.

Every child loves to read about being able to torture their babysitter. Maybe this is the reason today's generation is reading "Fifty Shades of Grey." Just a disturbing thought...

Amelia Bedelia is always a treat.

And if your kids like a good scary book so they can be traumatized, "Bony Legs" is an excellent choice. Both of my daughters would cheer and cringe to have this book read to them. I promise, the kids can lay in bed and look at the terrifying pictures for as long as they want when reading this hard-copy book and it will not require new batteries, ever.

Oh, the joy of books. Electronic is nice, a great bonus and a fun way to read, but for me, it will never replace the version that takes up mass, is purchased, then gets to remain on your bookshelf or someone else's until it falls apart at the seams. A little dust collected along the top portion of an old book is a wonderful part of the experience as well, until it's time to do some dusting. But, I will contend that book dust is different from other types of dust. It's more "literary."

A hard-copy book, if taken care of, will probably long out-last the latest electronic device that will soon need to be upgraded. The real version of the book will have the capacity to sit on that shelf, ready and waiting for the next person to experience it first-hand.

And I will be falling asleep tonight with my latest read at my side. My books...so comforting.

# 340 - Furry Legs Better than Hairy Legs

While packing, I had the opportunity to get up close and personal with a few of my favorite things that are normally kept tucked away on shelving.

One year, at a White Elephant Christmas party, there was an exchange of gifts that left me with this awesome second-childhood gift. A big-rig made from wood. The details are fascinating.

The person who had this item to give for an exchange works as an Executive with Dow Chemical Company. Of course, if you are a regular reader, you know I live in the heavily industrialized oil industry outside of Houston. Big rigs are a regular part of our lives as we travel down Highway 225, better known as Hazmat Highway (Hazmat=Hazardous Materials) because lined on each side of the highway are refineries and chemical plants. If you are driving down 225, then you are likely to be surrounded by 18-wheelers transporting something from these plants to and from Houston's Ship Channel.

Many people in our area are either working for the oil industry, in some capacity, or are working in a position somehow related to NASA. Even our daughter had worked for Johnson Space Center for their Space Center Houston attraction.

This mix can offer interesting insight to some local jobs. Such as truck drivers...there is a certain amount of mystique and romanticism involved with loading up and hitting the open road, earning a living while hauling and getting to see America. For those who get to drive cross-country, the job sounds more like an adventure than a job.

However, our area has big rigs mostly transporting very flammable, dangerous chemicals. These plants are making things that our country needs, but those substances can be highly toxic. Sometimes, I cannot believe that we have a chemical plant that makes jet fuel within a few minutes from our residences, and if that sucker goes up in flames, there is a definite danger for the community. Heck, as my father says, "You don't even want to know half the stuff being made in those plants."

Since I've lived in this area for most of my life, I felt, heard and have experienced explosions from these plants that shake the ground for miles and that have blown out the windows of our neighbors. I have seen my parents lose people they care about to this industry.

Heck, one of my best-friends, Julia, had been an Operator for Dow Chemical for years. Her and I lived next door to each other and became as close as sisters. She drove an awesome SUV made by Toyota...one day, she went to work, parked in the parking lot and went about her merry way into the plant to do her job. Later that day, there was an explosion that reached the parking lot and literally melted one side of her vehicle. Melted. The SUV was melted on that one side with tires flattened while the other side of the SUV looked relatively untouched. An explosion with a high burst of flammables will do that, I suppose.

For me, moving to the country is something I yearn to do and will keep fighting to do because I am tired of living around the chemical industry. To breathe fresh country air every day would be a delight. To see living majestic trees as my daily company would be a blessing.

Some people have a hard time understanding how a person could crave solitude in their life, but I can see how there are people who are content to be with nature and to be in peace while still having moments of joyful gatherings with your family and friends, but to have the solitude be the predominate lifestyle.

The country will still have 18-wheelers, but very few of them will be on the road compared to the highly congested industrial traffic that surrounds me in this area of Greater Houston. Although, the big-rigs in the country will mostly be logging trucks...scary in their own right, but at least a spill would not endanger people within a two mile radius, depending on wind direction.

Right now, I am exhausted from being emotionally and physically drained from the constant onslaught of stress that I should not be experiencing. A life change is in order. I pray for renewed energy and strength so that I can get this house back on the market and get it sold.

For now, I simply want to complete my move to the country and the city boy can stay in the city...that will be perfect for me. Well, we all know life will not be perfect, but I will try to get as close to it as I can.

On a funny note, for everyone who knows my Australian Shepherd, Howdy, here is a video of a game of fetch played here in the house on a hot day. This is Texas. Looks like Friday will likely be a record-setting day for a hot temperature. As for Howdy, in this video, he gets to show-off his AIR LEGS that completely cracks me up. At least, when the hairy two-legged creature is being a jerk, I get to enjoy a soul full of joy from my four-legged furry friends. After seeing this video, I hope you can see partly why I enjoy Howdy's antics.

http://youtu.be/C1CIJ2MkQ54

# 338 - Shattered and Scattered

Are you the Glue?

This weekend, I took the opportunity to clean out a few things that needed attention. A new sense of purpose and direction took over my focus, and it felt great. A change has emboldened me to continue packing with gusto, so I carefully cleaned every item I could for a few hours that needed to be wrapped and packed. So many breakables! I focused on my bookshelves, going up and down the ladder to retrieve my most precious heirloom items, and I got many of them packed away, with tender reverence.

While the DVR played old episodes of Saturday Night Live, I packed and enjoyed my solitude along with a few giggles from SNL's warped sense of humor that matches my own.

By the time 2:00am rolled around, I had seven boxes of items carefully put away into seal boxes to await the day they are carried out of this house for the last time. Let me tell you, I felt like celebrating, so I did. I took the time to do a happy dance in the living room, by myself. Well, the dogs watched with confusion, but it was a good moment.

Looking forward to change in our lives, being forced to go down a different path than expected can propel us to tackle things we never thought we'd confront. For me, going into action feels good and helps to remind me that life continues, through the good and the bad. Life has a way of rolling around, with or without you. Let the ongoing action in this world lead you to better times.

In my situation, I do what I can when my body cooperates and when it decides to go into shut-down mode, especially due to having a reconstructed cervical spine, I obey the order. I have found that it is better to listen to your body, than to have a situation that is spiraling out of control. For me, the hardware left permanently in my body can create massive swelling when I overdo things. Unfortunately, metal plates, bolts and screws do not have the tendency to bend or to be flexible with the natural movement of our body, so when I am moving a lot, the metal in me can create painful issues and swelling. Therefore, when I feel my arms and hands get tingles in them, I know it's time to call it a day.

That means that my Sunday of this past weekend did not turn out as I had planned. I wanted to go to the mall and shop for a dress, but I spent the day warding off swelling from doing too much the night before. But, the trade-off was worth it. I'll still make that trip to the mall this week sometime, I can't wait!

It looks like our house will be back on the market by the end of this week. It is a main priority for me to get the house ready for the sign to go back into the yard. There are no words to express how badly I want to be out of this house...it will be the best thing to happen for me in years. This time, the price will be reduced to better match the market's expectation, and I am fairly sure it will be the trick to get this bad boy sold. So, I also spent my Saturday cleaning linens and dusting things that begged to shine again. And as I dusted, I realized that my efforts to make those dusty items shine again is how I feel on the inside about myself...I am almost begging to shine again, but I don't think the Pledge treatment is going to do the trick.

As for me, I've always felt as if part of my role was to be the glue in the family. I never minded that part, except when I've continually been forced to pick up the shattered and scattered pieces, glue them back together, only to turn my back for a moment, yet hear it shattering all over again.

As my children grew up, I was glad to be a mother who would often sacrifice to be that glue, sometimes I was kept so busy gluing that I would nearly become depleted. But, for my children who are now adults, I'm thankful for the years I continually poured out the glue. However, I am no longer ecstatic about fixing problems other people cause; I've hit that wise point in my life where I have realized that I need to save my glue, for me.

Moreover, I don't want to waste any more time gluing something back together that is no longer salvageable or that is so carelessly and thoughtlessly re-broken due to a foolish person taking my heart's work forgranted and who always feels that I will somehow put it all back together and make it all better. Well, I'm using the glue that is left for me...yes...me. There comes a time when you must mourn the loss of something that had once been precious, then you discard the broken pieces and bravely move forward while being thankful that you have yourself to rely upon.

For us wives, mothers, daughters and sisters...this can be difficult to do. How can we even THINK the word "me?" Well, I am here to tell you through great experience, you better think "me" because you cannot expect anyone else to honor your own dreams, thoughts and desires better than the "me" side of you! It's great to share and to be a part of something bigger than yourself, but if you do not take care of the "me" part of the equation, there will be nothing left for you to share.

Be generous and sweet, but do not feel it necessary to pick up the mess that another adult makes. You can walk away and let them clean it up themselves. I figured something out...it's good for the destructive person to get on the ground and to search for the missing pieces of their implosion; it's good for them to be humbled and to do more than say "OOPS" with a shallow, meaningless apology as you finish doing the actual dirty work.

Instead, let them know what it's like to always clean up someone else's messy destruction. It will enlighten them and make them a better person. Sometimes, having to do it all ourselves makes us more aware, so we can become less destructive ourselves...knowing how hard it is to do the detailed repair work without any help. Of course, we all know those people who can't pull themselves together and who can't live a good life without someone continually pulling out the glue. I say, if you are an adult and have repeatedly and purposefully brought on bad situations into your life and the lives of your loved ones, then you need realize that the people who hold the glue will eventually start to avoid you. And no amount of manipulation or controlling techniques can make someone turn back around to help you once they are truly finished, you might as well be Medusa to them.

I will still do some gluing when necessary, especially for those who fall into hard times with suffering that comes without asking for it. I also honor other people who always try to be the glue because I know what that position feels like; I hope their day of freedom will also arrive. For those who serve as the glue and are appreciated for it while not being taken advantage of, by all means, keep gluing!

However, I will no longer be the glue in the same old way as I've been for the first 25 years of my adulthood. I had to be angry about it for a while, had to be mad that I was, yet again, left standing alone to put the broken pieces back together, broken pieces that should NEVER have been broken again. But this time, my system has been reconfigured and a big surprise is in store because I have realized...I don't have to do it anymore. I can walk away from the unrepairable disaster zone and save myself grief and misery that comes with gluing something back together again that I know deep down will simply be trashed again, very soon afterward. I've learned, it's inevitable with some people who never learn to quit being destructive.

Taking care of me is now a priority. Protecting myself is important. That other person can pick up their own mess and try to put a broken life back together by themselves because I'm not doing anything but working on my own broken shards that are off limits to anyone but me. On one hand, I feel amazing...I am finally honoring the part of me that is sick and tired of gluing when someone else carelessly breaks the same thing over and over. I can save my glue for times when it will really be needed and appreciated.

Do not worry, I will not start hoarding glue.

Believe me, my life will become much less complicated and less stressful while becoming more enjoyable and full of wholeness, instead of brokenness.

And my mantra for the time-being has become...

"I DO NOT HAVE TO BE THE GLUE!"

# 337 - West Nile Virus - Getting Serious

I am a Texas resident and there have been several huge reports over the past few weeks of people contracting the West Nile Virus from mosquitoes. In fact, several people have died. I believe the first two people to die a couple of weeks ago were in the Dallas area, near where my oldest daughter, Heather, lives.

It is difficult to put this in the back of your mind when it is coming on the news constantly. I do not get overly concerned about many news stories because of sensationalism, but I know this virus is a real threat. I now hear the mosquito trucks racing down our street most every night and that is a reason to be concerned because our area rarely has the mosquito trucks running. I guess the virus is spreading so much that each city is in desperation mode to not have an outbreak linked to their city-name.

However, it became more difficult to live normal, as usual, when I catch a government-promoted commercial that was aired this evening, filmed with David Lakey, M.D., the Texas Commissioner of Health as the featured speaker. The title next to his head on the screen is, "West Nile Virus: Protect Yourself."

Dr. Lakey starts out by saying, "The West Nile Virus is threatening Texas, but you can protect yourself."

The commercial goes on to list a number of four "easy tips: to protect yourself from contracting this virus that is transmitted via a mosquito bite:

1. Always use insect repellent.
2. Wear long sleeves and pants outside
3. Stay indoors at dawn and dusk
4. Drain standing water (they show a tire in the yard being lifted so water can be drained)

The commissioner then says, "These tips are your best defense. People older than fifty or with underlying health problems are most at risk for getting ill from the virus."

Finally, he gives a suggestion to "learn more about the West Nile Virus at TXWestNile.org," which has the website also displayed on the screen. Then, the commercial comes to a close.

After seeing this commercial, I am starting to realize that this virus is much more serious than I had been thinking; it seems to have spread so much that the state government is intervening. If any of you have worked for the government, you kind of know that this is a sign that things are probably going much worse than the general public realizes.

I do admire the Commissioner for speaking straight-forward and no one can say he did not try to warn Texans to protect themselves. However, we just left the month of August by a couple of days and it's a pain to keep spraying insect repellent on your body after you just stepped out of the shower with clean skin and the suggestion to wear long sleeves and pants when outside is something few Texans will consider. At this time of year...most are wearing cool clothes so they do not suffer a heat-stroke. So, I think #2 on the list will be most difficult to convince people to do.

As for #3 with staying indoors at dawn and dusk, I am doing that already. However, I do step outside early in the morning to feed the chickens, so I guess I should put a can of insect repellent at the door and spray a quick burst of mosquito repellent on me before heading outdoors to spread chicken feed. Since I rarely go out at dusk, this one is covered for me, but for so many others, they are enjoying their evenings out without thinking about becoming seriously ill from this virus.

Regardless, this commercial has been a wake-up call.

As of August 30th, in Houston and Harris County combined, there have been 30 confirmed West Nile Virus cases and three deaths. The news says to wear a product with DEET as it is more effective in preventing mosquito bites. I believe the overall death toll for the West Nile Virus, as of just a couple of weeks ago, had reached approximately 17 people...I don't know exact stats, but for my metropolitan area, for there to be three deaths and then two that I know of in the Dallas area, it appears to be making its round. Supposedly, this is becoming widespread more quickly than anticipated.

I will do my best to protect myself and hope that I can convince my daughters to be wise and heed the warnings of the state commissioner for this health issue. It would be better to be safe than sorry.

# 336 - Make-Over Moments

Lately, I've been going through a mini-makeover and a mid-life crisis. The combination has been a lot of fun. The main reason for my make-over is to look my best for my daughter's wedding in October. I want to do it for her, so her mom will look great for those wedding pictures that will be around for decades and decades. I'm normally a very laid back person who fiddles minimally with my appearance; normally, what you see is what you get. However, events over the past few months have prodded me to makes some changes to myself, inside and out.

This week, I decided to start with my hair. It is naturally a dark shade in the blond family, but I had lowlights put in it a long time ago to try to cover some of my white/gray strands. This time around, I decided to go for BA-BAM and lighten my drab mousy hair with a few highlights mixed with my natural hair left alone so my appearance can be brightened. My mousy hair started to drag me down.

Since my hair is long, it had too much heaviness and lack of style. So, my awesome hairdresser put in long layers, especially around my face, to remove the curtain of hair I'd become accustomed to carrying around. I can still go with it curly, but it is much easier to also go with it straighter since the extra weight has been removed.

It feels good to mask a tad bit of evidence about my growing wisdom, all that white hair I had growing in streaks is still appreciated, and I'm the same woman with my earned wisdom, but I'll keep it to myself for as long as possible and opt for simply looking my best. Sometimes, feeling as if you are beautiful has more to do with how much you put into yourself and is about your own level of confidence instead of how often someone else tells you that you look, "fine."

Before the make-over begins. You can see the white sprouts
at the top of my head. It's heavy when seen in person or when
parted another way.

It feels liberating to have cleaned up my wild, curly hair for my daughter's upcoming wedding.

I looked in the mirror today and can still see a few grey strands that were missed in the highlights, but they only did half my hair and left the other half untouched. I am glad that my fascinating white/gray streaks are also part of the bye-bye plan of my make-over. Premature grey shows that I've earned my stripes.

Since I am taking small steps to help me feel better about increasing my socialization level, I have got to have hair that will carry me through a day or an evening of good times. I can look tired, but my hair should not look tired, and it should be fairly easy to style instead of being a constant battle.

Next, I am searching for the perfect dress to wear to my daughter's wedding. I am the Mother of the Bride and desperately need to find the right dress to honor my role in Heather's wedding. To be honest, my bust is naturally too large and this creates conflict for dresses. Usually, for a dress to fit my bust, I have to go a couple sizes larger than the rest of my body, which means the rest of the dress will be tent-like and huge for the rest of my body. This is a no-no for my make-over moment. Everything has to fit perfectly, all over.

I will probably have to find a two piece elegant outfit or a dress that is fitted, yet allows for an ample bosom to be a secure accent and not a spillage disaster.

Shoes for the wedding will have to be feminine and with an eye-catching heel --- but they must be comfortable. I'd love to wear spikes, but I'd also like to keep from breaking my neck twice in one lifetime. A heel will work, but stilts are not necessary. These shoes will be amazing, I can already see them in my mind's eye...it will be a Cinderella moment once I find them! Yes, those Cinderella moments can happen for a woman at any age and with any type of shoe that makes her say, "Ahhhh!"

A woman always can fall in love with a great, sexy pair of shoes, and they can fall in love with a comfy, practical pair of shoes while knowing their feet are safely snuggled inside their softness. I hope to find a pair that I can wear with other beautiful clothes I will eventually buy for my nights out on the town with my friends, such as attending the local dinner theater and church social functions and other groups to give me added social experiences that are needed at this time in my life. I might as well look my best!

My daughter's wedding is definitely going to give me a chance to get dressed up for something very special. I feel giddy. If it were up to Heather, she could probably pick out a dress on the spot and it would be fabulous because she has an eye for these kinds of things. She knows I often buy my blouses and other clothes too big because I like a loose fit, she's good about finding that perfect blouse that shows I'm under there. Not only can Heather do this, Stefie is just as talented and has saved me from making horrible fashion choices while directing me to some awesome clothes that I might never have chosen if she'd not been with me. Regardless, my focus on Heather during her wedding day will be intense, and I want my overall appearance to be special, yet comfortable. For this wedding, we will have so many family members expected in attendance, and so many friends, that I know the afternoon will be spent with great joyous celebrating. And since I won't have wild, crazy, curly hair, it will be even more enjoyable on my part! I might even be able to pull a little section of my hair back with a beautiful bling hair brooch or decorative comb. I'm putting it all out there folks.

Another issue for me in this process is make-up itself. YUK! I'm not a big fan of make-up. I go for days at a time without wearing make-up. If I do wear it, I will slap on a light foundation, a bit of mascara and a touch of light lipstick. I've never really known how to correctly apply make-up because I have not been interested in it. My blush lasts me three to five years...that's how often I wear make-up. Besides, I was blessed to have natural rosy cheeks and good skin until I reached my hormonal 40's...but my spattering of freckles is usually my facial adornment for the day. My lashes are sparse, but dark and also naturally curly, so I feel good without make-up for around-the-house moments. However, for Heather's wedding, I want the BA-BOOM version of wearing make-up. Where are those amazing false eyelashes that make a soft fluttering impact? Yes, it's going to be a very special day and I want to go the extra mile in this area as well, but I have no idea where to start. Sounds like a few make-over sessions are in order. I need to practice so it will not be a disaster! With the help of my daughters, I know it will be great.

The new hair and a half-hearted attempt
to wear some light make-up.

To help matters, I bought a couple of new makeup items...two different eye liners and two lipsticks in shades that I adore. At least I will have better makeup to wear around more often...I'm determined to wear makeup on more days than not from now on, I've been trying to do that more often, but I admit that it is hard! Even if I only get to wave at the mail-person driving by, at least I will be getting practice to apply it and to find what works, what melts off too easily, and how often certain parts need to be reapplied.

The Hippie look as been fun while it lasted, but it has run its course and has done absolutely nothing to improve my life, so OUT it goes. The more polished side of me is back. She's come full circle and I'm glad to welcome her home again.

A tan is next on my agenda. I'd like to have some healthy looking color, but nothing fake and nothing artificially obtained. I need a few dates with Mr. Sunny in my backyard, but the chickens make it a challenge. I got started on that task of developing a tan during my two glorious weekends at the beach, but I have a long way to go with my Casper legs. Maybe I will simply drive to the beach for a day trip and spend lots of time reading beneath the sun with a bit of tanning oil that has low SPF in it to keep me from burning. This means I will be saying hello to more freckles on my face, but I always wear a hat and that helps protect my face from the sun. As for freckles, I have had them my entire life and I have nothing against these sweet Angel's kisses.

I told Stefie, that when she was sleeping, Angel's came to give her kisses and the freckles were kind of like Angel's lipstick, the evidence of their visits. Oh, it made every freckle beautiful and exciting! When she was little, Stefie felt very proud to know the angels had been giving her sweet kisses and when anyone would reference her freckles, she would explain about the angels. It was adorable! Stefie has my curly hair, my porcelain skin that tans nicely and my freckles...I think she is adorable and probably won't have any trouble retaining her adorableness throughout her lifetime. For me, I guess at 44 years of age, the freckles won't hurt me and won't help me...they will simply come along for the ride, but I will take a sweet angel visit any time they choose to bless me with their presence, especially my Guardian Angel. I am eager to meet that Big Bad Dude one day because he sure has protected me from too many things to list...He's been working overtime my whole life and there's not a day that goes by that I do not appreciate it. Guardian Angel...I adore you and cannot wait to give you a big hug and hopefully be YOUR biggest admirer in Heaven's bleachers!

Onward...

I will keep you updated on my make-over that is specifically directed toward me being able to make a presentable wedding day appearance so I can be an elegant Mother of the Bride for my daughter. I have plenty of elegant business clothes, but this is completely different. It is Heather that I am aiming to please --- she is my sweetheart and the one who is a beauty expert, so I hope she guides me a bit with all of these things.

It's a good start. Where did that grey-haired woman
with the drab hair go to?

Most of all, I hope to be pretty for her. Not in my normal $15.00 sundress from Walmart kind of casual Bohemian appearance, but really pretty in an elegant way that I rarely get to show any more because I do not have opportunities to dress up in such ways I once did because today I mostly deal with chickens and dogs. I have not had a special date in ages, never have a reason to get dressed up and to feel like a woman who likes to make an appearance every now and then. However, this process is reinforcing the fact that I need to get out of the house more often.

As for dress shopping, my first stop will be to the ritzy dress section in Dillard's at Baybrook Mall...the woman's side of Dillards. I am saving this trip for Sunday. Once there, I am going to try on so many dresses of all kinds that I will be completely in touch with best styles possible after my first day of shopping and I will also know which styles need to be avoided like the plague.

If I could find an old-style dress reminiscent of the 50's, a fitted bodice with a flowing skirt out from the waist, stopping just below the knees..I'd be in Heaven. However, in reality, that might look atrocious on me, so I will try on anything and everything. Pray my bust can be shoved into some pretty dresses without me looking like my stuffing is falling out. Higher necklines will be good, I think. Heck, I don't know. I guess I will see what I can find. I'll probably bring the camera along so I can show you the disasters and the possibilities.

Stockings will be next. Yes, I'm old-fashioned and must wear silk stockings. I will invest in several good pair to have on hand for the wedding day. I guess this will take off some pressure to get my legs tanned.

Meanwhile, I will have to become accustomed to my new haircut and learn how to fix it in amazing ways for the wedding and that's part of the reason for getting it done now, so I can go back to my hairdresser the week before the wedding to have it tweaked. I might have to also go see a professional makeup artist to teach me how to apply make-up at 44 years of age. Won't that be fun?

The polished version of ME is emerging, but don't worry, the chickens will know I'm still the same gal!