PIcnic and Party at Palmetto Park

This foursome friendship is priceless!

I'm the youngest by a smidge but following close behind my three dear friends who have already (or in Sylvia's case, about to) moved into The Eighties. I'm so grateful to have had these three lively, vibrant, loving, reading and writing friends for over 50 years.  Sylvia brought stacks of our "newsletters"--which we created years ago to reflect together on "life its own self" (ML) long before blogs and email accounts and social media. 

Each month one of us suggested a topic and off we went to our typewriters to write a page or two.  Over the years those pages became boxes of pages.  Beverly and I wish we had the energy now to arrange them all, along with stacks of photos) into a book!  We built a connection the likes of which you just can't get over cigarettes, martinis, and bridge.  

Beverly is the queen of celebrations and meaningful rituals and retreats.   Yesterday she brought Mary Oliver poems and we read them aloud.  Larry made and sent two chocolate birthday cakes for my upcoming 78th birthday and Sylvia's 80th. I told her one of my favorite ever birthdays was my 50th.  She and Larry hosted six friends at their beach house in Port Aransas, and Larry grilled shrimp for us. It was a magical weekend on the sand! 

Mary Locke and Beverly brought a picnic, presents, and party favors. Mary Locke described us as a group this way: "we're all still full of curiosity and zest for life!" I love that--because I, too, see passion and curiosity in each of us.

Sylvia is about to turn 80?  When we all met,  she and I were in our late twenties.  While the others of us were already mamas, Sylvia was glamorously single and happened to live in an upstairs apartment that is now the upstairs of Jan's house right next door! 

Back when I lived in Helotes and didn't know this neighborhood at all, we went to Sylvia and Peter's wedding party at Allen's house across the street from where I live now. (Feels like a few lifetimes ago!) 

Mary Locke, Beverly, Linda, and Sylvia 

Sassy and fun-loving as ever, Sylvia make 80 look wonderful!

Sylvia and Mary Locke by the river

What is that attracted us to each other and bound us into a group so long ago?  That we were all Southern Baptist girls growing up?  That if anyone sang the first three words of any hymn from the blue hymn book, we all knew all the words?  That we had similar sensibilities?  Loved stories?  Were fascinated by the inner lives of ourselves and each other and strangers? That we loved deviled eggs and pimento cheese and black eyed peas and cornbread?  

Who knows?

It was magical. 

Post Script to Jan's "Life Lessons"

        I know you must look forward to my daily reports because they are so uplifting. So today I bring you the household horror news of 9/23/2026: my small floor vacuum, which is only a year or two old, has breathed its final breath. No warning. Just death. And so I shall resort to the old fashioned ways of my mother and haul out the straw broom to do my chores. What more might go wrong, you ask? Let’s not go there.

         While we all have experienced a dying appliance now and then, it’s the continuing saga of these curses that might warrant concern. Is there a poltergeist lodging at 611 Ogden Lane who is trying to dislodge the current landowner?

I Swear

..... is a not-to-be-missed movie based on a real life story of a boy with Tourette's Syndrome.

The acting and story are phenomenal! 

I loved it so much I bought the book as well.   

"I Swear" is available on Netflix. 

Seeking Suggestions

My ex-husband and I, along with our children and their children, are on an ongoing group text.

The way it works is that travel photos and good news are shared.  My Ex and I were raised in bygone days, and we both tend to write, "So proud of you!" or "Beautiful pictures!" or "Way to go!" 

We two ancient people rarely post news of our own, we're more like the background choir.  

So this week, I posted pictures of my new car.  Day and Will always and Tom and Bonnie sometimes  respond with a heart or a thumbs up, sometimes a word or two.  But beyond those.  it's usually crickets.

I'm not exactly pouting about being ignored, but I'm asking you, my friends, to let me know if this is a generational thing--not to respond to texts.  

Two of my grandchildren respond to my texts if they are written to them separately.  Two do not. 

One of my grandchildren who doesn't respond called me last week and we talked for over an hour about his ideas for dealing with chronic pain!  As a big time workout dude, he had a few interesting ideas and I will never forget the kindness of his reaching out, adult to adult, with his suggestions. 

My granddaughter actually Face Times me to share secrets--treasured conversations that mean the world to me!  When I see her name on my screen, I know it's going to be the best thing that's happened all day. 

So what's up with the Group Text silence when I post something that matters to me?  Clearly, these are caring sweet loving kids who would--if I told them in person--show some happiness.  

Many things in this digital age are easy to the Generation Zs in this group--like Snap Chat and Instagram and all the other apps I don't recognize..  Maybe texting is passe? (see I don't even know how to put an accent mark over the e in passe! and spell check wants me to say paste!)

But we're trying--we old-timers!  We can do the basic texts and emails and we play along as best we can.  We congratulate them on their wins, we wish them well, we are crazy about them. 

But we didn't get the memo when text etiquette changed.  We know they all have smart phones within reach 24/7--but I guess they have fatter fish to fry these days.  I feel like posting this morning: "Hey, thank you all for your enthusiasm about my new car!" Or: "Looks like my text from last week didn't go through--so here it is again!" 

My Ex, of course, didn't bother to tap back a thumbs up on my news, but I didn't expect him to.  I spent almost half my life with him and he (even though he has mellowed quite a bit in his old age) has never been keen on my news.

But if anyone has any ideas on what to do with un-answered notes from Generation Z (aka Zoomers) please share!  Without some suggestions, I may resort to....well, saying catty shit to get their attention!

Life Lessons

In the past couple of weeks, my saint of a friend next door, has been besieged with trouble:

Two of her last pecan trees have lost enough of themselves to block the street and are now on their last legs.

George, her innocent-looking little kitty, chewed all the vents while hiding from humans behind the dryer, turning her laundry room into a sauna.

Her alarm system broke--again.

Her $40 Fit Bit died right in the middle of doing its job, counting her steps. 

Her hot water heater also died.

As did her AC, requring her to "spend her children's inheritance" to replace it.

Add to all that, the final blow: her hopeful pomegranates have all turned out to be duds.

If you saw her walking down the street, sassy as ever, her gait lively, her moves evidencing her loyalty to yoga, you'd never know that she's survived a Biblical attack on her sanity and bank account.  She looks on the bright side: her computer, car, and  phone all seem to be doing what they came here to do.  She still has food and water and a roof--which she will remind us is not available to so many. 

A motley crew of love

I've now watched both seasons of 

My Family

It's a beautifully written and cast movie about love and honesty, forgiveness and openly expressed anger, acceptance of differences, and so much more.  

One of my favorite lines:

"We're not exactly a family; we're a motley crew of love."

This one, in my opinion, is going to win some awards.  It's a not-to-be-missed story.

Wonderful Series on Netflix

An Italian film called My Family.

Usually, I prefer to watch a foreign movie with subtitles, but this one is very well dubbed, so I'm listening to it in English.  

Just beginning Season 2 on September Friday night.  

I've got the blues!

 Out with the red, in with the blues!

SO I bought my first and last red car in February 2025, right after the election.  Carlene gave Bob and me each a portion of the sale of her house (each our bedroom, she said) and I chose a cool Honda HRV Sport.  Four wheel drive. Black interior.  

I had two long road trips in it and it handles very well.  But it wasn't....

BLUE! 

I wanted blue. I always want blue.  I made an impulsive decision to go with the red, and after a year and a half, it just didn't feel like ME.  

So after seeing this little powder-blue Volkswagen Taos, I went over to the Alamo Heights VW dealer and took a test drive, fell in love! Tonight it came home with me and Luci in it. 

My salesman, Cameron Harris, was wonderful!  Today was his 34th birthday and he shared his red velvet birthday cake and lots of easy-going no-pressure conversations.  I considered buying Blue's big sister, a dark-blue Tiguan, but Jan and I decided the lighter blue would be less hot on these summer days.

My three favorite cars have all been blue:

My first car-of-my-own was a 1990 turquoise Acura Integra--a beauty. 

My second Mini Cooper was Easter-egg turquoise. 

And now we have Blue, a gorgeous 2026 Taos. 

What a thrilling day to get the BLUES! 

Live Love Laugh

On childhood trips to Daytona Beach, Bob and I could hardly wait to stop at a restaurant called The Green Frog.  Not particularly for the food, but for the toys and trinkets you could get there.  

Traveling in other directions, say to Chattanooga to see our Harris relatives, we were just as excited to stop at Stuckey's--wtih their signs and jingles, "Just wait til you get to Stuckey's; Stuckey's is not very far...."

Backseat kids must have been the target audience for these food stops.  Stuffed and plastic animals, bows and arrows, and all manner of cute things created a festive air of expectations and it was worth the wait.  

The super gas stations of today are Stuckey's on Steroids.  You can buy anything you want: kitchenwares, sweat shirts and jerseys, deli foods, toys, you name it. Roadside stations big and small feature a wall or two of rhinestone pocket books, fringy blouses, crosses, flags, and inspirational quotes on distressed wooden plaques. 

Inevitably two signs are always in on the wall: 

Believe

Live Love Laugh

Believe what? I always wonder.  Believe in.... the Easter Bunny, Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy? 

America the Beautiful?  Jesus? Yourself? It could be anything you like, just believe something. the soggy seems to say. 

"Live Love Laugh" is printed, painted, stitched, and stenciled on wood, paper and fabric millions of times a year.  

The book I'm reading now is entitled Live Love Laugh--written by Kristin Kobes Du Mez  a scholar and historian of religious movements in American for the past two centuries. It's subtitled: The Secret History of White Christian Women and the World They Made. 

Live Love Laugh

Six years ago, I read her excellent book, Jesus and John Wayne--that traced the shift from gentle lesus in the Gospels to big strong tough John Wayne Jesus.  A big segment of the Christian communities of the time yearned for a more "badass" Jesus.  An Alpha Jesus.  Jesus with big muscles and a gun. 

In this her most recent book, she traces the long and bumpy road to the changes in religious sentiments that have led to the current political climate.  

it's a fascinating read!

When it's for your own good

When we were children and had to take medicine, our parents told us it was for our own good.

Now that we are adults, that phrase is a cover for manipulation: I know better than you do what's good for you.

My least favorite cliche in the English language--when people gang up on another adult or violate her privacy--is "We're only telling you this (doing this, revealing your secrets, whatever) because we LOVE you."

When the boundary busters and the boundary bustee are in their 70s, both sides know how it feels to be treated as if we've lost our marbles:  it's patronizing and insulting for a person, or group of persons, pretending to be benevolent, to share our private information with someone else (our children,  spouse, best friend) hoping to get them in on the same icky "love" attack. 

Here's my opinion: If you really love a person, don't go over their heads or behind their backs.  If you think I have a problem, take a look in the mirror and attend to your own --I've got mine covered. Most of my family--including my children--give me credit for having a brain. 

As you can guess, I've recently been the target of some love bombing "for my own good." 

A person in one of my friend groups decided that some of the meds I take could--taken together--cause death.  She told two other friends, then texted my children late Sunday night to name the meds I take and warn them.

If I had known they were so curious, I'd have emailed them all a list of my prescriptions and invited them to join me on my next doctor's visit--why not?  But not one of them asked me for that information--they took it on the authority of the one who'd texted and called Day and Will.  Who does that to a competent adult friend who still has her share of marbles?

I've had friends who've walked Luci on days I couldn't, brought me dinner on a bad day, gone with me to doctors' appointments, and done all manner of things to get me through the hardest days.  I can't count the times those gestures of love have made me teary with gratitude, like now, right now, right this minute. 

Labor Day Weekend in Athens:

Day and Tom, Jackson and Deanna, and Marcus and Lucia drove down from Virginia to visit Nana for a belated birthday celebration.   What a van-load of happy! 

Nana and Tom

Luci and Nana

Deanna and Nana

Jackson--who's 25 in October

Gratitude to those of you who read this blog

I don't know who. reads this blog--only numbers.  I was happy this week to see that up to 55 people read my blog without a theme!  

I started this on a road trip to the west coast 13 years ago and I found that this space just kept me writing. 

Thank you so much to all of you who have read it!  

What I'm Reading, Watching, and Making

 Books I'm reading this week: 

On Netflix:

The Airport Chaplain

Private Life

Paddleton

On Prime:

Mr. Burton--excellent movie about the young Richard Burton and his teacher

PBS

Here I Stand--about Dolly Parton

Saved by the World: A documentary about Mary Oliver

Online Art Classes 

I won a 6 week course on gel printing that begins in mid-October. 

I purchased a class on collage from the Take Two site of outstanding art tutorials; I've barely begun, but it's going to be a great class. 

Lyn Belisle's outstanding classes on making reliquaries

I continue to watch a wealth of classes as a member of The Handmade Book Club--today's being a fun class, "Mixed Media Embroidery Hoop"

This is the only book I've made headway on this summer.  The book is made of one 32x22" sheet of watercolor paper.  This is only the beginning.  It still needs content and closures, and I'll show you those when I'm done;

Some days, some years even, are like the air and solid ground. All is well. People behave the way we'd like them to.  We seem to behave the way other people like us to. Stories have happy endings.

Some days, some years even, shake us up. We encounter paradoxes and disturbing things.  They part the curtain and introduce us to formerly unimaginable things we'd rather not see.  Or the slow accretions of aging we've gone through for years suddenly lurch into the foreground, demanding attention. 

Two nights ago I had the unique-to-me opportunity to ride inside an ambulance. My back went out trying to remove a compression stocking. 

Four medics showed up and got me onto a stretcher while Jan supervised.  The newness and suddenness of the situation made me wish I'd packed a Go Bag for times like these. What should I take?  Who would care for Luci? Should I call my family in Virginia, Georgia and Colorado?  Jan handed me my phone (low charge) and the men got my pocket book and a pillow from my bed.

These men did the kind of work Will used to do: taking blood pressure, putting little sticky things on my chest, asking questions, treating me with kindness. 

I felt like a minor character in The Pitt--being rolled into an emergency room. But unlike the full noisy cast of The Pitt, The NE Baptist Hospital was almost deserted as far as I could see. The main guy in charge of Back-Out-Lady stayed with me in the hall until I was checked in, and we had one of those small world conversations that revealed pretty soon that he knew one of my best friends who, like him, had grown up in  Utopia, Texas.

The next day:  Calls from Georgia, Virginia, Colorado: Do you need me to come? Come stay with us.  I don't like living so far apart.  Jan and Freda and Cecelia took great care of me and Luci, doing all the things I couldn't yet manage. 

So this summer, in addition to two very pleasurable trips, one to Colorado, one to Georgia, I've fallen flat on my face in Albuquerque, had to move out for a power outage, and discovered what people mean when they say their backs are "out."  I"m moving gingerly, but planning--as soon as I'm up and about better--to create a Go Bag to be prepared for the next time, if there is one. Here's my list so far of what goes in it: 

A fast phone charger

A list of people to call or text

Password to phone--if you have one.  (I don't).

Copies of insurance card and ID

List of prescriptions.

A change of clothes, underwear, toothbrush, toothpaste, etc. 

Two or three books and a good pen

Non-slip socks

In my case, a note that I have an embedded  neuro-stimulator and controller--in case imaging has to be done and the stem needs shutting down.

Hand lotion. 

Laptop or iPad and charger.

A can of Diet Coke

Some snacks

Back home in Texas

Luci stayed home with her new friend Jules this week, visiting occasionally with Jan and George and Carma. 

Some days Jules took Luci to visit her parents and their three dogs.  One night she went to game night with her and her friends.

Meanwhile, Bob and Jocelyn and Carlene and I had wonderful 101st birthday celebration.  We walked the Lloyd Harris trail on her actual birthday--though she and Bob did most of the actual walking.  

Carlene went with me to find a house for my next and longer stay--and I'm excited about having them all over in "my house" between October 19th and November 6th.

Meanwhile: today on Jan's birthday, our entire street was engaged in hauling off downed trees from last night's storm and returning to their houses without power.  I lost a hefty chunk of my pecan tree, Jan lost two--one of which blocked the street until our neighbors called in some help, and Curran had the most damage to his house and roof.

Almost everyone I know was affected, all but Freda--and her daughter was.  

Refrigerated food and frozen foods had to be given away or disposed of.  

SO I have moved out to Will's house--the one he has for sale.  I had a long luxurious bath and am watching The Airport Chaplain on my working computer!

101st!

 I am loving spending time with family all celebrating our mama's 101st birthday!  

Bob and Jocelyn put together a small pretty party in a private dining room at Presbyterian Village.  This year there were only seven of us--seems like just a few minutes ago we were celebrating her 100th!

Here, you can see the backdrop and balloons and flowers--and you can tell she's loving it!

                                                      Linda, Jocelyn, Bob, Micah, and Rose....

She took those candles on the cake 1 and 0 and 9--and rearranged them to spell 110--said we could use the same candles at her 110th birthday in nine years!

The times, they are a'changing!

This is me in 1973 about to take a spin on my motorcycle, with Baby Day on her three wheeler. 

Tony our dog will sit beside Day while her parents ride around the track. 

This is when we lived in the house I found at the laundromat--with 65 acres and one stone cottage atop Beckmann Hill.

Now here I am riding a scooter!  (No photos yet on that front)

How did we get here so fast?

Anne Lamott always says it just right!

 https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1CCmW1covd/?mibextid=wwXIfr

Departure Eve

 So the little baby of Emma and Connor--Gus--was born two days ago in Austin.  Almost seven pounds, he's already a handsome little guy.

Emma sent us shower hosts each a goddess.  My pink one is now hanging happily over my sink.  

It was a uniquely wonderful experience to have lunch with three generations of women.  I think we should all seek out more opportunities to spend time with older and younger friends!  When like-minded women of all ages get together, the vibrant spirit of the goddess shows up to play! 

Carlene's 101st birthday is already on GO!  She had lunch with her friend Cathy in the dining room yesterday--the same Cathy who hosted a party in her home for her last year.  

My Uber is coming at 12 noon tomorrow for a 2:00 flight,  Then I'l fly to Atlanta, get an UBER or the shuttle to Athens, and with Bob and Jocelyn leading the way, I'll drive to my Air BnB.  

Meanwhile I have been pursuing my pocket book hobby today.  Went to North Star mall today to get Elena a red pocketbook for her first day at Durango High School--whose colors are red and white. 

Carlene once called me the bag lady--due to my penchant for pocketbooks (aka handbags and purses) --as well as tote bags,  back packs, and bag by any other name. 

Most of us women love containers--bags and bowls and baskets.  I hadn't been to the mall in ages, and what did I look at most: huge arrays of bags in all colors.  I got myself a cute little turquoise Consuela while I was there.

Speaking of Consuela: I remember when she was selling her bags at a crafts fair in Boerne.  Now she is a big name world wide.  She's also now partnering with James Avery and designing all their colorful enameled charms. 

My blue suitcase is open and packed on the living room floor.  Luci alternates between getting IN the suitcase ("Don't you dare forget me!") and walking around sighing and staring and looking as glum as possible.   She definitely knows something's up. 

Yesterday we had a baby shower for Emma, Kate's oldest granddaughter--who's just a few weeks away from bringing her sweet baby boy into the world.

What a pleasure it was for us five grandmothers and three young women to enjoy champagne brunch at Silo's and share in the joy of the upcoming reveal of Emma and Connor's son!

Kate and Lisa and Emma--a tribe of three fiercely loving and nurturing goddesses mamas!  

This lovely dress was made for Emma by Janet,
the sewist in our tribe!

Beautiful Emma and Baby Boy Bump are rocking this polka dot dress! 

Happy 24th Birthday TODAY to the glowing Emma! 

Ink

Back when we were newlyweds, we lived in a second floor apartment on Mulberry Street, a few houses from San Pedro. We had no TV, no radio (except in the car) and no telephone.  We were, you might say, poor as all get-out.

One day a red-faced encyclopedia salesman knocked on our door, huffing and puffing from the one flight of stairs.  It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, Mark was painting, I studying for a test in Texas History. 

After he caught his breath and drank some iced tea, he proceeded to set up his display of books for us to peruse.  I was particularly fascinated by the volume on the human body: plastic pages overlaying each other, each with a system of the body--muscles, bones, circulatory system, etc. 

He could tell we were interested, but he probably knew what we knew: that we wouldn't be a sale.  

But he kept up his spiel.  $19 a month for all these books?  How could we not buy?  

He had this mantra: "All you're paying for is ink, string, paper, and glue."

On the 17th time or so, it was all we could do not to laugh.  He was our entertainment for the day!

There's so much more to books than ink, string, paper and glue, of course.  Behind every subject are historians and scientists and all kinds of experts who'd devoted years to scholarly research.  Reductionist as it was, his phrase will remain in my mind as long as memory lasts. 

I thought of it this morning when I popped into an antiques store and spied a set of two ink bottles with racks for fountain pens.  HAD to have it! 

At the checkout counter, four of us of a certain age talked about memories of writing with ink back in the day-- Schaeffer's fountain pens with cartridges taking us through math, penmanship, spelling tests, even math. .

I recently gave Will a handmade journal with a leather cover that I'd made--along with a fountain pen.  He talks about how it slows him down when he writes early every morning. 

Writing with ink slows me down too.  It makes writing feel more intentional, almost meditative. 

"Remember how the middle finger was always stained by the leaky cartridges?" asked a woman about my age.

"Remember writing lines with those pens?" another asked.  We discovered that in spite of growing up states  apart, we were all subjected to writing "lines" as punishment!  

A strange and sweet man who works there (I've rarely been there when he wasn't there, seated on the same stool, talking amiably in his high-pitched voice)  said he was before our time.  "We always used these ink wells!" he said.  "That was before cartridges were even invented!" 

Funny what things evoke nostalgia.  Lessons in penmanship and leaky cartridges and dipping pens in wells of ink! 

Today was another remarkable gift of high energy and lower-than-usual pain in my feet and legs!  Hooray!

Luci and I went to Trader Joe's AND Central Market and got ingredients for a corn and black bean salad that is my all-time favorite! I've had this recipe for years but it makes enough for an army, so I hadn't made it in a long time.   I'm currently recovering from all that chopping and standing, but I'm also wolfing down a bowlful of it. 

Here's the recipe if you want a delicious and refreshing salad for these summer days.

Southwest Salad

2 cups dried black beans

2 cups corn

2-3 medium sized cloves of garlic, freshly minced

A heaping 1.2 cup of finely minced red  pepper

1 medium sized red onion minced

1 t. Salt

1/2 cup olive oil (plus 1-2 T for the tortillas)

1/2 cup fresh lime juice

2-3  t. whole cumin seeds roasted in cast iron pan

1/2 cup minced cilantro

1/2 cup minced parsley

1 t. Crushed red pepper 

Finely ground black pepper

3-4 corn tortillas. 

1. Soak the beans overnight. Or at least 4 hours. Drain. Place in a kettle of fresh water. Bring JUST to a boil, then cover and turn heat way down.
2. Cook at a very slow simmer with no agitation in the water until the beans are tender, about 1 1/4 or 1 and a half hours. When cooked drain and rinse thoroughly in cold water. Then drain again.
3. IN a large bowl combine beans, cooked corn, minced garlic, red onion, bell pepper, salt, and olive oil and lime juice.
4. Roast the cumin seeds and stir, then put them in the salad—along with cilantro, parsley, crushed red pepper and black pepper.  Mix gently.
5. Lightly brush both sides of each tortilla and cut into strips about 1.4 inch wide and 1 1/2 inches long. Toast them lightly in a pan or a 350 oven. Scatter over the salad when you serve it.  

*******

Also signed up for another session of Lyn Belisle's class on making reliquaries.  Another fabulous multi-hour class for under $30--I'm watching it tonight and collecting relics and pictures to incorporate.  Lyn is an extraordinarily skilled and generous teacher. 

Lyn's classes

*******

Day wants a James Avery charm bracelet for her birthday.  While I was choosing charms for her, I decided I want one too--and my mama is giving me some birthday money to choose charm!  I'm going with mostly hearts and flowers, but I also want a red pick up truck to remind me of my daddy's.  

It occurred to me that charm bracelets, too, are reliquaries, a collection of charms that reflect our interests!

******

Finally capped off a good day with my refrigerator filled with healthy fruits and vegetables arranged in tidy glass containers.  This may be normal for most of you; for me, it's a very happy novelty.  While eating my salad, Nellie and I had a wonderful conversation about art and Lyn's classes, which we are both taking. We decided that if we keep making things we can avoid being fearful about the state of the country. 

It is so deliciously satisfying to have Nellie as a friend.  We share so many similarities it's kind of eerie!  1. We both went to Michael's and Trader Joes today and 2. We both stay up way past midnight every night.!We were just a smidge older than Elena when we met--and we're way better friends today than we were back then!  When we were teenagers we were fifty-piece jigsaw puzzles, now we're thousand pieces each. 

I'm walking around singing Mares-Eat-Oats and Does-Eat Dotes--and Luci thinks I might have misplaced my brain! 

The Gospel According To Nellie and Linda; Make things every day and stay away from fear! 

Love is in the Air

 

This is what I woke up to--Marcus and Lucia flying to Spain to Meet The Parents!  

Marcus interviewed outstanding VCU athletes for his podcast and one of his interviewees was this adorable girl from Spain, a star basketball player.  The rest is--as we say--history!

As you can tell, they are both smitten.  Day sent Luci a picture of flowers and she wrote back, "Beautiful, but not as beautiful as your son." 

My family has been all over the map this summer.  Day and Tom went to Copenhagen (Tom travels a lot internationally for work, but this was the first time Day accompanied him), then they took Marcus and Jackson and Deanna to Ireland (Lucia was in Spain and couldn't go) for two weeks.  In Donegal, Tom found so many of his ancestors on the McDonald side and they were warmly greeted by everyone.  They loved Ireland (and Irish storytellers and musicians) so much they want to go back and spend the summer next year. 

Will's family of four went to Costa Rica for a week, then came back and rented a house in Durango for a month--a week of which I got to join them.  They are totally in love with Colorado and Durango in particular. As of a week ago, Will and Bonnie and Elena live there!  Yesterday I got a virtual tour of the house they are renting for the year--they like it so much that they'll consider buying it after their San Antonio house sells.  

I drove to Colorado, had an amazing week, then flew back.  Next up is a trip to Georgia later this month to celebrate Carlene's 101st birthday!  

Soon thereafter, a trip to Virginia is due--There's a girl there I want to meet! 

 After a lengthy absence, "my" birds are back!  They are not mine, of course--they belong to themselves and the air--but they give such color and joy to my back yard.  Finches, cardinals and doves mostly.  

Today I will fill two hummingbird feeders.  Joy gave me her recipe, said she keeps her filled year-round.  Their feeders need to be carefully cleaned every two or three days. "Hummers are delicate and fierce," she wrote.  

I've spent this week helping Elena pack up her room.  They will be moving tomorrow!  

I'm pausing here because I can't yet quite give words to my range of feelings on that subject--except to say I am thrilled for them and I will miss their closeness so much, geographical and otherwise.  

What do YOU brake for?

A friend sent me this poem this morning, from a Bella Grace magazine.  It inspired me and thought it might inspire you to think of things you brake for!

I spent the morning with Jett, a computer science major at UT, who lives on my block  He fixed my computer so that I can now post pictures, so I'm going to give it a try.  The error had something to do with cookies.

I spent yesterday at the Pritchett house and will go again later today for dinner.  Then probably again tomorrow--as they are actually moving to Colorado on Thursday.

A reminder: Joy's show is still up at Mockingbird Handprints--just in case you missed the opening and would like to see her work on display.  It's a beautiful show!

Day and her family are enjoying their trip to Ireland, and Will and his family are selling and giving away things (and returning to me some furniture I gave them) so that they can travel light to their new home in Durango.  

Yesterday Elena was feeling a little sad.  "I need to play the guitar, then I'll feel better," she said.  So she and her dad sat down and played and sang for a while and she was right--it perked her right up.

She loves music and plans to take classes at a music school she's found in Durango.  

Here are a couple of photos from the week I spent there with them;

One of her rodeo events in Durango this summer

Jan and I have another thing in common: Kate and her boys are moving on the same day the Pritchetts are moving.  Her husband Lee has already begun his new job in Albuquerque and Kate and the boys will finally get to join him--they were waiting for Sebastien to graduate high school.  

SO Jan and I are lucky to have each other as we see the last of our families move away from San Antonio.  So far, I've only gotten teary once--watching my girl play my daddy's guitar and remembering so many happy memories of these almost fifteen years of her life!  I'm going to miss them like crazy--but I'm also thrilled that they are following their dream to relocate to Colorado, their happy place. 

This week,  the Universe gave me a bounty of good things.  

1. With the help of the Scooter Lady Cayce in Tennessee, I finally got my pretty blue Voyager to start up. I was riding back and forth in my small kitchen and called Carlene.  "I wanted you to be the first person I'd call on my scooter,"  I said.  She is guaranteed to, invariably, share in whatever I'm excited about, commending me for making such a wise decision.   When we tell each other something we're happy about or proud of, we sometimes say, "I just wanted someone to saw A-WOOO!"  

2. After way too long, I finally go to visit with Chris, my delightful friend who lives in Kerrville.  We each took a few things for "show and tell"--she some beautiful collages built around dream fragments, me with five blank handmade books. I drove home inspired and hoping for some longer visits after we both do our August trips. 

3. Last night I took my first scoot, Luci leashed beside me, Carma and Jan behind us.   Jan was so excited about my wheels you'd have thought it was a Porsche. "It's Luci who. needs training, not you," she said.  Luci's accustomed to stopping to pee and sniff and negotiate different turns than I had in mind.  I need to train her to walk beside me and announce when she's about to stop. 

4. I went to Williams Sonoma and met my (I hope) forever pet sitter, Jules. When she saw Luci, she squatted with the ease young women have, all the way to the floor in high heels, to pet and converse with Luci.  When she asked if I ever needed someone to keep Luci, I took her number, and canceled the Rover sitter for August.  Her other job, besides WS, is in the Frost Bank Building a stone's throw from my house, and it's pet friendly. She'll stay in my house and take Luci to work with her where she'll get to commune with other small dogs. 

5. Lorraine recommended a novel and I stayed up very late reading it.  Excellent writing, engaging story.  Midway, I almost quit because I found the main male character wimpy and I dislike wimpy men.  We talked about it as I shopped for fruits in Whole Foods, then I went home and read it all the way to the end and was glad I'd stayed with it.   Leaving is by Roxanne Robinson. 

6. When my favorite Mexican restaurant, Adalantes, closed a couple of years ago--after 40 plus years, I missed it, especially their Santa Fe tacos which are really quesadillas. I ordered that dish almost every time.  I was lucky--the menu was online!  I'd struck gold. It's a mix of zucchini, green onions, corn, poblano peppers, and Monterray Jack cheese grilled between two large whole wheat tortillas.

7. Central Market has been under renovation for at least a year, with a year to go.  But I went there to get my ingredients this morning, it was so much fun to see what they've done with it.   Just being there can instantly make me happy.

8. Before Central Market and after Walgreens, I popped into The Green Door thrift store.  Just bought one thing--a beautiful art book called Alphonse Mucha, Masterworks.  From cover to cover, it's luscious. 

In the future, I'm going to try to cool my jets few days before writing about a new idea.  

Writing mirrors myself back to myself in ways that are often embarrassing and just as often illuminating. For example;

My last posts on plastic, now deleted, reveal to myself how easily I get seduced into a new idea and run to my secular pulpit with it.  

With so many troubling issues in the world, it's easy to latch on to the latest way to save--myself, the planet, my beloved children and grands--and then run with it.  I am easily seduced. Easily frightened for the next generation.  That's kind of sweet and endearing.  It's also kind of humiliating to realize how little a woman of my age can actually do. 

Not that it's not worthy of  concern--it is.  I did make a few simple changes that will be healthy for me personally.  Like returning to brewing tea instead of buying it in plastic jugs.  And ditching my peeling Teflon frying pan and buying one not coated in petrochemical stuff I can't even pronounce. 

But as for the 101 things I can do, the ones I read about, I'm just not going to live long enough to do all of them, that's a fact.  If I were a young mother with little bitty children, that would be a way different story. 

Once upon a time, I figured my grandchildren would cherish my advice and wisdom.  I would inculcate in them a desire to read many books.  I would steer them away from smart phones and social media and anything else I might find harmful.  

As time wore on, I realized how little power I had, how little younger people coveted a piece of my wisdom.  I'd had my chance as a parent; my turn was over. 

Wild Cards

 Rachel Martin and David Sedaris

If you're an NPR aficionado, you've probably heard this show called Wild Card, a hybrid of game and interview. 

Rachel Martin uses her Wild Card deck of cards, holds up three, and lets the interviewee pick one--which is the question he or she answer.  Or not.  Or asks the host to answer instead.  The cards are just prompts, the answers can go all over the map. 

The link above will take you to her conversation with David Sedaris. a self-deprecating opinionated writer and humorist whose stories are mined from his personal life.  

I found this house at the laundromat.

I stumbled upon a little black and white photograph last night, looking for pictures for a house-shaped book I'd made.

It was taken in 1969 or '70: me leaning over a stone ledge in the yard, my so very young husband below, his mama sitting on the ledge.  We two on the ledge are looking with interest at something he is showing us.  Behind us is the rock cabin, the house I found at the laundromat.

When we first moved to Helotes, we rented a concrete block house behind the Baptist Church.  The Bandera Highway was a two-lane road then.  A stone's throw from the church and our rent house was Flores Country Store where a young Willie Nelson sang on Saturday nights.  Next to that was the General Store where we bought groceries, "put it on my tab."

Since we didn't have a washer in the concrete house, I drove about a mile to the laundromat, always asking people if they knew of anything to rent.  

One day the manager, a woman named Charlotte, said, "My uncle has a little house he's wanting to rent, but it's very remote, a little hard to get to."  

It was a tiny stone house, the one in the picture, atop a hill.  To get there, you had to drive a long and extremely bumpy driveway, Beckmann Hill.  We could even hear Willie singing from our porch on Saturday nights.  

At the base of the hill was an open field we made into a motorcycle track.  My young husband got himself a 250 Bultaco, and for me, a 250 Montessa. 

So many memories are evoked in that photo.  We lived there for 11 years, first with just Tony, then Tony and baby Day.  Friends came out on weekends and we took long walks and cooked, tended babies and listened to loud Janis Joplin and Ray Charles and Otis Redding. By the time Mr. Beckmann sold the whole 65 acres, and we moved a mile down Scenic Loop, we had Baby Will.  

From the first day to the last, we paid $125 a month for that little patch of Texas Hill Country. 

Where the River Took Us

I'm listening to the podcast "Where the River Took Us" by Aaron Parsley of The Texas Monthly. 

He and his family were camping out just across the river from two of the camps last July.  He tells the wrenching story of their house being taken by the flood, and miraculously all of them survived except this sister's baby Clay. 

The podcast is about what happens on the day of the tragic flood and the aftermath.  At this point in the podcast, episode 4, he befriends a father whose grief leads him to being an activist for change in laws and technologies that prevent tragedies like last year's happening again.

MORE Tuition?

Carlene saved me and my kids and my friends a lot of grief and remorse by telling us early on that "everything is tuition."

That adage has an appendage: I ought to always be learning stuff.  I'm a learning junkie, always have been, but only on topics I care about.  I do not wish to learn trigonometry or make-up skills or how to strengthen my core or sports.  NPR is always on in my car because it's my best source of learning things besides You Tube and online classes.  

I learn every day more about how to interpret Luci's language.  Downward dog pose means "I'm tired of sitting around; I want to walk or go see somebody I like."

She has a very expressive set of eyes.  Jan came over to walk her one afternoon when I was unable to walk, and Luci gave her the side eye and went under the covers and curled up close to me.   Her preferences are obvious. She couldn't have said more clearly, "I  only like to walk with this lady."  But bless Jan, she overrode Luci's preferences and dragged her along. 

When we do walk, she tries to negotiate an extra block at every corner.  She plants her little tiny feet on the pavement, refusing to go in the direction I've chosen (back home mostly) and she holds that pose with fierce determination.  I usually give in.  She knows I'm a softie.

I spent hours last week researching scooters.  Consumer Reports recommended a Glashow, but when you clicked their link, it took you to Parseec.  I learned that two products can have--inexplicably--two different names that don't even rhyme.

The one I really wanted was too new to be reviewed on Consumer Reports: Scootngo Voyager baby blue could be purchased from the company or from Amazon and Walmart. But the warranty wasn't good unless you bought it from the company.  I called the company numerous times and left messages on their answering machines. I emailed them even more.  But no one ever answered. (Parseec/Glashow did answer at least but by Indian men I couldn't understand who answered my questions by reading verbatim from the website.)

I learned this: ask Google what stores sell or rent them--and that's how. I met Cayce who ran a store in Pigeon Forge. She has an American Southern accent and we understood each other perfectly.  One thing I'd learned in my research she reinforced by saying,   "A warranty is worth nothing if no one answers the phone." 

 In this age of QR codes and apps and portals and AI, life lessons come at us from all directions.  

After hearing of my recent betrayal by Orlando, Elena said, "You're too nice to everybody, Yenna.  You shouldn't trust so many people."  (I had an idea she'd heard that from her parents.)

"You're probably right.  I'm learning how to be more skeptical," I said.  "But when I was your age,  a person's word meant something.  If you said you were going to do something, you were going to do it.  It was this way with everyone." 

Sometimes we pay tuition for un-learning things. 

Art Show Saturday

 My friends and I are hardly seeing each other lately.  It's too hot to walk out the front door--much less walk all the way to the sauna of a car and drive to each other's houses very often. I mostly see Jan when we walk the dogs after the final heat wave has dissipated.

Today I ordered my scooter.  You'd think it was a motorcycle, I'm so excited.  It took two trips to the bank to make it all happen due to a summer SNAFU with my credit card people rolling their eyes because I was buying an item from a sports shop in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee.  But after two trips there, the sweet banker Jose finally convinced them it was a legit order.  It's a light blue Scootngo scooter that folds up like a suitcase at the airport, so I have high hopes of taking it with me to Virginia and Colorado and anywhere else I might be invited to go after the heat is replaced by cool fall air.

Before meeting Cayce, the saleswoman, in Pigeon Forge, I talked to a few men in India about other brands, and finally got to buy the one that had been my first choice all along. 

Tomorrow, however, I have an outing.  Joy is having an art show at Mockingbird Handprints, 3 to 5, tomorrow, speaking to us all at 4 o'clock.  It will be fun.  I hope all my San Antonio friends will show up to see the opening day event of her show, Celebrating Nature!  It will be up through August 22nd.