Dance Party Anyone?

Thinking 'Bout Somethin'

HANSON | MySpace Music Videos

A Public Service Announcement

Well...it should be.

Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow

Apparently there is this annual blog Christmas tradition of challenging bloggers to write posts December 7-20 titled with the name of a song each day. I've heard It's The Most Wonderful Time of The Year.
But, here is the deal. We have get one thing straight first. I'm not promising anything. Nope. There is no commitment here. But, I'll o my best to keep up with the others participating in the challenge. Especially since my friend here was the one I heard about the challenge from and she is willing to embark and hasn't posted in 5 months. But, she's been a little busy. I'll forgive her. This time.

On with the challenge.

A snowstorm hit Houston on Friday and the whole city came to a screeching hault.

It was like a white wonderland. Or as close as this part of the South will ever see.

All these cars and me were headed home. Due to the fact that schools and business closed across the city. Weather reports called for 1-4 inches of snow and a night of freezing temperatures.

But the kids were thrilled. Filled with joy. Full of laughter. And wet from head to toe. My laundry this week tripled in size due to the number of times Griffin changed clothes in the span of about 4 hours the snow was available for play.

Lucky for me, I got home just in time to see the blue skies again. But, I'm not complaining. An afternoon off with a fireplace, laughing wet kids running around, and a tasty glass of red wine made for a perfect ending to the week.

I was thrilled the next morning to still find a little of the white stuff hanging around.

Is it too much to ask for two snows in one winter season? I mean, we have now had two in two years. Since it was a balmy, muggy 67 degrees today, I guess it might be pushing it. Just a little.

Hope you all get to enjoy a little (or a lot for you true Northerner's) of snow in your neck of the woods this season.

Thankgiving Introduction

Another introduction.

Meet Jori. She's 30. Bet you couldn't have guessed that.

She will probably kill me for putting that on here. But, she will love seeing herself on here more so I am pretty sure I'll be in the clear.

She's foxy. Don't you think? And smart. This was at her graduation party to celebrate finishing her Master's. It's not in math. BUT she loves math. I mean really, really loves math. She's not just good at it, but she has a passion for it like I can't even describe. It baffles me. But seriously, how cool is a girl who is foxy and loves math? Cool to the millionth degree, my friends.

She has a sweet tooth. No, I am NOT kidding! I wouldn't do that to you. Rarely will you find her without a stash of M&M's or Reese's cups tucked in her purse, car console, pockets, dresser drawers, kitchen cabinets, or pretty much any little crevice she can find to stash a little chocolate goodness.

Hello. You say you are a Tech fan? Nope. Not even close. Jori is Tech. No Phoenix here. Only Tech. It runs in her veins.

Know what else she loves. Dancing. She has a special fondness for synchronized dancing. So much so that she became a certified Jazzercize instructor this summer.

Unfortunately, my picture library doesn't have any of her dancing moments captured. But here we are after a night of dancing. We don't get to play often, but we play hard when we do. Can you tell?

Along with her fondness for dancing she has an unwavering love of music. This might be the one thing that took me most by surprise when getting to know this sweet friend of mine. She tends to lean toward the left a little on her selection of music. Her most current playlist probably includes a little Jay-Z, Rhianna, Lil' Wayne, Kanye, 50 Cent...shocked much? I was.

Other things that are important to know about her: 

Her heart belongs to Jesus. She LOVES Christmas. There is a soft spot in her for mission work in Russia. She adores shopping. Sometimes she thinks her mom can't hear her, but she can. She has excellent taste in friends.She loves to make up Limericks!

This is the exact reason I wanted you to meet her. She has a talent, I tell you. It's amazing what she can do with a few rhyming words. So without further ado, I'll let the words speak for themselves.

A Thanksgiving Limerick

Oh wow, look around--what a blessing!

The turkey, the pie and the dressing

We'll give so much thanks

We'll have to buy spanx

The holidays are here, but who's stressing??

Do you love it? Let her know and leave a note. Possibly we could get her started as a regular part of this blog. Limerick's just make this world a better place.

From deep down in both of our hearts, we wish you a very Happy Thanksgiving!

Child of Another Mother

Hello. I'd like to introduce you to Ribbon.

She is my other child. And she really, really loves me.

She loves me almost as much as she loves food. Or anything that resembles food. Or pretty much anything that will fit in her mouth. Whether is resembles food or not doesn't really matter much to her.

Her next favorite thing, besides the food and me, is basking in the warm sunshine. It's the only time she sits still. Unless she is sleeping, of course. There is some medicinal  and calming effect in the sunshine that works similar to Ritalin on a person with Attention Deficit Disorder. By the way, I'm pretty sure she has the dog version of ADD. They have that, don't they?

Look at that irrisistible face. Cute, huh? I don't get to tell her very often. Mostly because I tend to loose my status as the Alpha when I use that sweet, tender voice. And, we are constantly vying for that position. Beagles are stong willed dogs, yall. Who knew?! Snoopy never gave us a hint of that at all.

I've lost this battle though. Mostly because I've resolved to choose my battles carefully and she has no interest in the clean dishes. Phew!

But, here you see. I am in charge. Just call me Alpha. Alpha with a fun-kee callus on my foot. Please, excuse that.

Oh, those ears. They are killing me. And those wrinkles on her chin. There is nothing softer in this world. Well, maybe my love handles. But, not much else.

Time to sign off now and go get a handful of that softness before hitting the hay.

'Night all.

The Three Amigos and The Bevil Oaks Bandit

There is a bit of delay in getting this post up. You know how sometimes, life just gets in the way of blog posting. Just like when you have a really great series of spooky posts for Halloween which was to be topped off with the spookiest of spooky stories on the twilight of such a ghoulish evening and it just vanished into thin air. Almost as quickly as that ghost next to you will vanish.

Gotcha!

Luckily, the ghosts and goblins stayed away this year and I was left with a peaceful and fun evening with a friend, a good hearty bowl of chili, and lemon bars to sweeten the deal. Besides a few stray supermen, ladybugs, and baseball players that made their way to my neck of the woods, the evening was fairly uneventful.

Oh, and did I mention the three amigos made an appearance?

OK, so it's just one amigo and his compadres. I'm fairly certain that it was the imminent danger that these three presented that put an inexplicable fear into the eyes of any ghosts and goblins that had their sight set on our home for the evening.

You can see it, can't you? Almost feel the way it penetrates deep into your soul. Just eerie. Downright fearful, I tell you.

Now that I have you headed toward the frightened side of life a little, let me tell you a little story. A story, true in nature and that to this day gives me more heebee-jeebee's than any Halloween trick or treat I could imainge. Well, almost.

Once upon a time, many, many, many, many years ago when I was young and full of life I lived through a horrific nightmare of my own. The day before was a comfortable, sunny, summer day and as any 16 year old was happy to do, I headed out to mow the grass. The obligatory duty of any allowance receiving  teenage daughter who needed to use the family mini-van for a night out with friends and a little extra for gas money.

I was strutting my stuff around the yard in my perfectly permed, teased and hair-sprayed hair, electric blue eye-lined eyes, sporty Bodyglove bathing suit top, and Dirty Dancing cutoff shorts atop the riding lawn mower lifting my wayfarer sunglasses emphatically in search of any head that I might turn. Who could drive by without acknowledging such brazen beauty on such a glorious day?

When suddenly, my sweet, darling sister came barreling out of the front door with telephone to let me know I had a call. The details of the call, I do not recall, but I specifically remember handing her the phone back and scooting her on her way back into the house, so as not to distort the grandiose view of any interested party who might be swept away by my loveliness that day.

Later that night, I slept soundly in my twin, trundle bed. When in an instant, my eyes opened widely and I was paralyzed by a fear like I had never known. At the foot of my bed, stood a man holding a flashlight which seemed to dimly light the outer features of his face. In that moment, every ounce of me wanted to let out a blood curdling scream, but all I could do was stare. My mouth would not open, my arms would not move and I could not find my voice.

All that I could do was close my eyes.

And so I did.

What felt like an eternity, was probably only mere seconds. My thoughts were something like this..."please be a dream, please be a dream. I'm going to open my eyes again in a second and realize that all of this is a very bad dream."

But, as these thoughts raced through my mind I felt a deepening sense of fear creep over me. Chills shivered down my neck and I bravely opened my eyes again and was blinded by the immediate light that was inches from my nose. He was there. Next to me at the side of my bed. I gasped and tried to muster up a scream for my father but again, my vocal cords were frozen. Paralyzed and still, I lay there and felt helpless. All I could do was close my eyes.

As I did, I heard the shuffle of footsteps on the parquet floor away from bed and down the hall. They moved right out the front door and crossed the yard. The sound of leaves crunched just outside my bedroom window and I lay still until I could hear the footsteps no more. Hoping still that all of this was a dream, I squeezed my eyes shut for what felt like an eternity.

After sometime, I finally regained some control of my limp and exhausted body, opened my eyes and dragged myself out of the bed. It took all I had to re-trace the footsteps of this night-time visitor down the hall and around the corner to see the front door standing wide open. And then I screamed and simultaneously realized my sister did not lock the door after she brought the phone in earlier in the day.

Somewhat of a delayed reaction, I know. But, I found my voice and ran to my father's bed as fast as I could.

To everyone's surprise, we found the next day that several other young ladies in our community experienced similar situations the same night. All encounters of a man with a flashlight. No harm done or words spoken. Just intense moments of fear.

Stories have been told about similar events in prior years but I know of none since that time. The Bevil Oaks Bandit is still at large and I have since inherited a compulsive habit of checking for locked doors each night.

Now, go check your doors. Crawl in bed and have a peaceful night's sleep. I dare you too!

'Legend'ary Memories

Apparently Galveston Island has a host of Ghost stories and haunted houses. I grew up making frequent summer visits Bishops Palace, which is thought to be the most haunted home on the Island. Stories of ghosts that protect the mansion have been passed down from generation to generation. But, my own Galveston Island story is about the The Face on Ewing Hall (cue the spooky tunes).

The land and  building now belongs to UTMB and can be seen from the harbor, but is off limits to the public. The story goes that the face of a fisherman who originally owned the land in the 1920's peers eerily from the harbor side wall of the building. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes.

Apparently, he had sternly instructed his family not to sell the land prior to his death, but the money-hungry family went against all of his wishes. One the building was erected, his face showed up on one of the top panels of the backside of the building. His face has been painted over and sandblasted off several times and each time it reappers in a new place.

Currently the face resides in a panel just above the back door. There are three panels directly above the back door and it first appeared in the top one. Once sandblasted from that spot, it moved to the next lower panel. Sandblasted again, it reappeared in the panel just above the door. Legend holds that the University opted not to sandblast again in fear of moving the ghost into the door.

This time it was a cold and wintry night that I stood outside with wind whipping at my back and peered around the corner of a  great friend to see that eery face on Ewing Hall. It was there, just as predicted. The hair stood on my arms and chills ran down my spine. And again, I jumped in the car and was ready to go!

Next time your out on Galveston Island, be sure to take a quick trip around the building and take a peek for yourself.

The Light on Bragg Road

Between 1901 and 1934, there lay a stretch of Santa Fe railway in the Piney Woods of Southeast Texas. It was a 9-mile spur from Bragg to Saratoga that cut through the deep, dark, dense piney woods now known as the Big Thicket. The line was built to haul oil for locomotives, the weary traveler, merchandise and lumber and promised to bring a newfound life to the community. However, the profitability was short lived and runs dwindled until Santa Fe finally opted to pull up the tracks.

Today, Bragg Road as its known is a two-lane dirt road that was stripped of its tracks in 1934. It cuts through some of the densest forestry of the Big Thicket today.

It was a steamy, summer night in 1992 when I found myself standing in the pitch black of night looking down this very road. Chills ran over my body and the hair stood on my arms as I timidly peeked around the corner of the friend I was standing behind.

And there in the distance, we spotted the low, swaying glow. The glow of a hand held lantern being carried by the weary soul of an old railman decapitated in a train wreck years before in search of his long lost head.

It took me less than half a second to get back into the car. It took a little longer to convince my friend that we needed to get the heck out of dodge as quick as possible.

So many theories surround the Saratoga lights, but the headless man is by far, the most popular one. Some believe that the lights are produced by gasses in the area or some sort of chemical reaction.

However, there are several other idealized theories including a guilded glow of burried treasure by a Spanish Conquistador, or souls of lost lives in a fire set by Confederate Captain John Kaiser to flush out a group of refugees that had broken freee from a wooden shack in Woodville where they were held hostage. Tails of a wandering ghost of a hunter claim that he was lost and still searches for his way home. Another holds that a crew of disgruntled Mexicans hired to cut the right of way haunt the ground that cost them their lives when their foreman killed them all on site. Then again, there is the farmer who gave up his entire life to work for Santa Fe and become a brakeman on the rail. Only to loose his job within a few short years. He wanders the road in search of the life that left him behind.

Still the locals hold to the eeriest of all theories, that there is no true explanation other than some type of paranormal activity. Stories have been passed down from generations well before the rail was ever laid about the mysterious light on Saratoga road.

Whatever the explanation, it creeps me out, but in a strange way intrigues me. I'm not afraid to admit that I am a scaredy-cat! Afraid of any little thing. I stay away from haunted houses, scary movies and anything remotely eery. What about you? Any fears that really get you worked up? What creeps you out and makes the hair on your arms stand on end?

Hope you all are preparing for a perfectly Spooktacular weekend!

pictures compliments of http://www.texasescapes.com/AllThingsHistorical/Big-Thicket-Light-AM107.htm

A Lesson to All

Here is my child. Ain't he cute?

I know. I know. I should be protecting him from the likes of the many distrubed strangers that may stumble across this blog who would want to risk their lives to take on the challenge of abducting and raising this gnarley thing as their own. But, I'd rather share him with you. All five of you who read this thing and the ocassional stranger who wanders across this site. I'm sharing him with you because I promise he will light up your life almost as much as he does mine. And, if you (yes, I'm talking directly to you, crazed internet stranger) get any ideas that you might want to try something funny with this guy, let this post be fair warning that there will be consequences. Consequences that you will not want to face. I promise.

On with the story.



Griffin attended the girls volleyball game last night at school. This is becoming a new routine for him and I am beginning to wonder about his newfound interest in volleyball. Or do you think it could be the girls? Hmmm...I'm sticking with the volleyball because that is more comforting to me. Anyway, who wouldn't be interested in such a great, competitive and exciting sport?! I mean really.

I arrived just a little after 7:30pm to pick him up and to my surprise I found him wandering the school grounds with a friend. It's dark outside y'all. Dark with danger lurking around every corner. Besides what happeneded to sitting on the bleachers in the gym showing your school pride and cheering on your schools team to an exciting vitory?

Needless to say, my parental concerns kicked into high gear. So, things went like this. He got in the car and the ramblings began. To save some time and spare some of the meaningless detail my arguments in list form sounded something like this:

1. Something bad could happen to you out there alone.
2. You weren't where you told me you would be.
3. Do you know that something bad could happen to you out there?
4. The girls on that volleyball team needed your support.
5. Do you know that some football players were threatened with pellet guns by a bunch of vagrant kids after school the other day and something bad could happen to you out there alone in the dark?
6. How do you even know how the volleyball team played?
7. What happens if a group of 15, crazed, gang members come and jump you out there in the dark? Something really bad could happen to you.
8. The cheerleaders just can't keep up the entire school spirit on their own. They need audience partipation. That means they need an audience.
9. How do you plan to protect yourself, young man if someone approached you out there in the dark?
10. Your friends on the volleyball team were counting on you being there.

Get the idea?

We return home and I promptly ordered a pizza for dinner because of course, I was famished from all of the worrying and ranting and Griffin was really, ready for me to shove something in my mouth so I would just shut up already. As Griffin was on his way out of the door to walk into the dark night across the street to pick up the pizza he turns and says...

"oh and mom, don't worry about me getting jumped by a group of 15 boys while I am gone. I have my pocket knife with me for protection."

Don't say you haven't been warned, internet stalker.

When Life Gives You Lemons Make Lemonade

So, my son's chief complaint these days revolves around his height. Or lack of it. Unfortunately, the kids gene pool isn't working for him in this area, but ain't no thing. He's working it out. Making lemonade out of lemons just like mama said.

Today he told me the best thing about his height are the "hugging benefits."

"Huh? What's that?" says the oh so naive mom.

Well, G's much taller friend from the back agreed that when it comes to girls, G has all the advantage because he is the perfect height when it comes to hugging girls.

Oh. Oh my. Oh my aching ears.

I'm just not sure how much more of this I can take.

And we haven't even made it to 13 yet.

YIKES!

A Story in the Funny Category

I have this story from an event that happened last week. I've shared it with a few friends. They are still laughing. So am I. So I thought I would spread some laughter and share the story with you too. Because laughter is just good for the soul.

As you may or may not know, I have been struggling for over a year now with a hip injury that just won't seem to leave me alone. I began a running program almost 2 years ago and six months into it, my lame hip appeared. Well, I have attempted to resume a normal running program over and over and over again since that time. Unfortunately, I have been unsuccessful in my attempts to get back to a normal, pain free running routine. Which leads me to the funny story.

I decided it was time for another opinion with a different doctor. After reviewing my films from the MRI a year before, he informed me that I had a labral tear and wanted a repeat MRI of the entire pelvic region to rule out any other issues that might be contributing to the pain.

Off I go to the imaging center where I meet this weaselly looking little fellow that was sporting a shady looking mustache and smelled of a stale cigarette. He was just that kind of person that invaded your personal space and creeped you just a little more than a horror film.

As I lie in the ceramic tube listening to what sounds like clambering hammers with birds chirping in the background, I began to recount the previous conversation with said weaselly man. I'll just have you know in advance, that it caused me to laugh uncontrollably right in the middle of the second set of images. Guess what happened next? Repeat that set of images. Fifteen more minutes stuck in the tube. But, oh the laugh was so worth the extra time.

Your dying to know now aren't you?

Ok, ok. Here you go.

Weaselly man: (in my personal space. big time) Here is the dressing room. Just get down to your panties and slip that gown on. When you come out, lock the door behind you. By the way, how did you tear your labia?

Me: (annoyed and preoccupied with this guys invasion of my personal space and the fact that he just used the word panties. i've never had a problem with the word 'panties' until just in that moment. it just seemed a little creepy then) Jogging.

Weaselly man: Really?!!? How long have you had a torn labia?

Me: (still annoyed with this guy and concerned about his awful body odor of stale cigarettes and how long I would have to endure that in this confined room) over a year now.

So, are you laughing yet? I still can't believe it did not dawn on me until half way through the MRI what he said. Does this guy know what he said? Does he really think I tore my labia? Was this some kind of Freudian slip? (Is that what you call it?)
Regardless, it's funny. Darn funny.Besides that, is it even possible to have that type of injury? Ouch. Again, I say OUCH!

Oooooo.....IIIII Caaaaannnn't Wwwaaaaiiiitttt!!!

I read somewhere the other day that using multiple letters is today's way of exaggerating what your saying. I'm not sure I can exaggerate enough how excited I am about this movie.

Reading it over and over and over and over as a kid, I dreamed about food pouring down from the sky. It's still a dream of mine. To hear a rumble in the sky, look up and be hit in the face with a couple of pancakes followed by raining syrup. (Mmmm...licks her lips, mouth watering)

Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs in HD

Confessions of a Snooping Mom

Time for a confession. I really need to get something off my chest.

I hacked my sons email account.

It all started so harmlessly. Just a few days ago he was still needing assistance logging into his account and I knew his password because, of course, I was the one who set it up.

But, one girlfriend and a weekend with his aunt later, he has secured his email account from his old mom. Changed his password. Without my knowledge. What is this world coming too? Who does he think he is?

This old mom won't be outsmarted though.

Know what I did?

Yep. Changed the password again.

I've never been a fan of IT folk. Not so great experiences with their kind in my lifetime. But, today more than any other time in my life I truly appreciate the power of the administrator role and have a healthy (if only temporary) respect for that role.

Want to know what I found? I know your dying to know.

Here it is..

GF: Hi baby I miss u VERY much:( 2 quick questions,,,, What makes u brake up with a girl? What makes u love a girl? I would brake up with a guy if I found he was cheating on me or if he wasn't a Christian. I would love a guy if he was funny, sweat, nice to me an my friends, and CARES for me and my feelings!! That is a good thing baby that u r all of those things to me!!!!! Luv u,, try to plz check u email more often plz baby!!!!

BF: what makes me brake up wid a girl is if she is a deadbeat (wich ur not) and a total female dog. What makes me love a girl is her smile and how she wont hide her feelings and if she is nice, funny , and cares for me.luv u lots.reply SOOOOON lol

Let me just interject here that although their English teachers for the last 7 years would be mortified at the spelling and grammar skills displayed throughout their exchanges, I am particularly proud here of G's creative use of descriptive words in order to avoid using profanity. Did you catch that? If not, please re-read. I promise you will get a chuckle.

GF: awsome u rock
BF: u no it babe
Is it just me, or do you think she might be coming on a little strong?

GF: (tiger roar u know like the sexy way)
BF: ? idk
GF: nvm i will tell u later sexy
BF: by sexy
YES! YES! YES! He didn't get the tiger roar comment! There is some preservation of innocence still there.

Guess I have some explaining to do before GF takes that education responsibility on herself. I'm a little concerned about where she might go with that.

It's on my calendar for later in the week. Time for another of our mom/son dates at Chili's for some birds and bees discussion over Chicken Crispers, endless Dr. Pepper and molten chocolate cake. As much as I would really prefer to throw back a couple shots of whiskey before embarking on this little convo, I guess giving G his favorite meal will make ease the pain some...at least he will be less grumpy about the whole thing.

I'm sure there are some real critics out there who would like to tie me to a pole and give me a thousand lashes for even thinking of invading my child's privacy and, on top of that, posting it for the world to see. But, the great thing is when your a parent, you can do that. And not really care what everyone in the world thinks.

Besides, G doesn't read this. Neither does the GF. So, I think I'm in the clear. At least for now.

Bacon with those Waffles?

Monday night about 9:30pm I am driving west on I-10 out of Beaumont.

It always seems somewhat bittersweet to leave my hometown, as visits are typically short and being the sentimental person that I am, every corner brings back a memory. Each short trip makes for a lot of re-living, which can get to be a little exhausting at times. But, before the exhaustion fully sets in this time I look into my rear view mirror and take one last glance at the glowing lights of hotels, restaurants, the new Ford park and baseball fields where used to stand nothing but a lonely hotel on the outskirts of town and a bunch of empty fields. As I have watched the changing landscape of this town I once called home over the years, I am ever amazed at how quickly and drastically things can be transformed.

I am deep in thought about the complexities of changes and the evolution of our lives when suddenly I hear my offspring in the backseat pipe up with a little of his own insight.

"Mom...you know how I know when we are in Beaumont? There is a Waffle House on every corner."




So true. So very, very true.

And as I raise my head to catch his eye in my rear view mirror and to catch a quick glimpse of the pride on his face as he realizes he has just made one huge observation, I see notne other than the soft yellow glow of the Waffle House sign.
In the town of Beaumont and the small surrounding communities, there are EIGHT Waffle House restaurants. Beaumont, population 110,000 needs 5 Waffle House alone to accommodate all those breakfast eatin' folks.
Dang, that's a lot of waffles and bacon. Because you can't hardly enjoy waffles without the side of bacon.

JORI!!!!

I know you like seeing your name up there. Can't imagine how excited you are to see it in all caps!

This post is especially for you. Enjoy!

And you are required to leave a comment.

Gotta Love that Guy...I Think?

Last night I watched as the media interviewed Lance Berkman about his latest injury; a type 2 calf strain. When asked how it felt he responded "it feels like a charlie horse...a perpetual charlie horse. For those of you who did not attend Rice, that means 'ongoing.'"

All right wise guy...I'm not sure whether to be entertained by your wit or offended. Was that comment directed at the idiot that asked the question or those of us watching the idiot that asked the question?

Scent of a Woman- Hoo Ah!

I love this movie.

I love Al Pacino.

I love the Tango.

I love sweet smells.

I love the complete elation on the Lieutenant's face in this clip as he whisks her around the dance floor. It's sensual and provocative and sexy.

All those things that happen to be missing in my life. I'm wondering if I should try a new fragrance.

One that draws a man in like this, preferably. Hoo-ah!

What's your favorite fragrance? How does it make you feel or what kind of response do you get from others when you are wearing your fragrance?

Share with me your thoughts and ideas, please.

Do you see what I see?

Guess what? I think those are rain clouds. OK, so they aren't the actual clouds I saw this morning as I rode in to downtown on the bus, but they pretty much looked like that (and much thanks to khou.com for the image). What a welcome sight?! Since I have cracks in the yard surrounding my house that look as if we have had some catastrophic earthquake that shook the ground open enough to swallow us all up, I would think everyone would be jumping for joy at this beautiful sight this morning.

I tell you, I was doing a happy dance right there in my seat on the bus. The thoughts crossing my mind were something along the lines of... "I might actually be able to go get my hair done now and stop throwing hundreds of dollars at the local MUD in effort to thwart off any ugly letters from the homeowners association declaring I was an unfit resident of the neighborhood because my grass had the least bit of a yellow tint." Because those cracks in the yard big enough to swallow us whole are really in my neighbors yard, but stretching pretty close to mine.

But, as I was deep in thought about coloring the gray roots that are nearly two inches long on my head right now, my bus seat companion leans across and with an exasperated sigh says, "uh...look at those clouds. (another exasperated sigh) I sure hope the bus gets into downtown before the sky opens up and we get all wet." Followed by many more exasperated sighs ever three minutes for the remainder of our ride into downtown.

Who are you lady? What planet have you been sent here from? How can you even be the least bit bothered by a few raindrops from the sky when we are all about to dry up, wither away or be swallowed up by the cracks in our yards?

There is something refreshing, renewing and cleansing about a good rain shower. In times when we are getting a plethora of rain, I think we loose sight of this and take for granted the sheer magnificence of cleansing our earth and environment.

Personally, I would forgo a good hair day for a little rain. In fact, I have forgone good hair days for a couple of months now in an effort to ward off the evil homeowners association.
After taking a moment to stare at this lady next to me as if she was dropped here from another planet this morning, I am pretty sure she has forgone good hair days for a while and a little sprinkle on her hair won't really hurt anything.

Abi-lene, Abi-lene

Be still my heart! I'm in Abilene and there's a rodeo in town which means no shortage of stud- muffin cowboys my friends!

Big trucks rumble by pulling horse trailers, with windows rolled down. I catch a glimpse of a tanned, weathered face peering beneath the worn edge of a straw cowboy hat and my heart melts. just. like. that.

No sooner does my heart get back on track when swaggers passed me in a restaurant a group of dirt, dusted wrangler wearing men with plaid snap front shirts bearing forearms that make Popeye look like a wimp. Oh, for the sweet love of Jesus, can I please just take one of you home with me?!

I'm so thankful to have the next three days to soak in even more of the spectacular scenery which also means I have some time to convince one of these sweet creatures that he could hitch up his horse in the backyard and stick around in Katy a while. We have rodeo's there, right?!

So, here is to sweet dreams in Abi-lene!



Abi-lene, Abi-lene...Prettiest town I've ever seen (well, I'm not so sure about that line).

Unbelievable

Online Beatboxing Champion @ Yahoo! Video