Let it Snow!

Angela, North Carolina isn't the only state to get snow. Texas also has its rare moments. Check out our modest accumulation.

On My Soap Box, 2

In the aftermath of 9/11 much has been said about racial profiling. The unfortunate victims of such profiling are up in arms over the injustice of it. I certainly understand their feelings to a point. But we have to put our sensitive feelings aside and get real. We can't afford another 9/11 and I'm in favor of whatever security measures that need to be in place.

Let's face it, we've all been inconvenienced. I don't like removing my shoes to go through airport security. I don't like waiting for friends and family at the luggage carousel when I'd rather greet them at their gate. I don't want to be the random one who is frisked for potentially dangerous objects. I do, however, want to feel safe when I board a plane and know that the officials in charge are doing their job to perfection. Therefore, I will tolerate the inconveniencies for the sake of safety. We live in a new world where innocent-looking individuals can't be trusted.

I remember the time I picked up my grandson, Thomas, from pre-school. He squealed when he saw me there and ran into my open arms. It was obvious that I was no stranger to him. Still, his teacher asked for my name and license, checking both against a list of those who were allowed to pick up Thomas. Once I was pronounced safe, she apologized for having to doubt me. I assured her that it made me feel better about Thomas and his environment. I left there knowing that if anyone came to get Thomas, they would be checked out first.

Too, consider a group of gang members with purple hair and black eyeliner terrorizing the city. If someone matching that description sat next to you on a plane, wouldn't you be concerned? I would. Both examples explain how the innocent have nothing to fear when profiled. Of course, there are instances when the profiling goes too far. I admit that there are many stupid people in the world who love to test our emotional endurance. But for the most part, I don't have a problem with racial profiling. It is common sense to question the intentions of those who so resemble our enemies. Forging ahead with blind trust is dangerous. We saw the consequences of that on 9/11.

So, get a grip everyone. We're all facing annoying and delaying inconveniencies in the name of national security. It's now a necessary evil. Instead of looking at it as a personal attack, consider the masses whose lives might have already been spared due to heightened awareness. It's not the time for the "me" syndrome. Let's begin looking at "us" collectively.

On My Soap Box

Unfortunately for those of you who read this blog with any regularity, I have enough material to make "On My Soap Box" a series. A long series. My opinions may not change the world, but getting them out to the public, however small, will make me feel better.

Here goes. The city of Farmers Branch is trying to implement an Illegal Immigration Ordinance that will require all property owners to require proof of citizenship before renting. Also on the agenda is to make English the official language in Farmers Branch.

What is so wrong with this country that we have to "make" English the official language. I thought it already was. And, it's about time a city or state stood up in an effort to claim their territory. This is the United States of America, isn't it?

Let me point out now that I have nothing against those who come to this country for a better way of life. My deceased husband was Polish, yet was born and raised in Brazil. His lifelong dream was to come to the USA and call it home. He arrived on our shores in the late 60s and went though all the proper channels to become a legalized citizen. His eyes would well with tears whenever he heard the National Anthem. He's the type of immigrant we want here. He loved this country, he learned its history so he could become a citizen, and he embraced our language and way of life. He didn't come here expecting handouts or others speaking Portuguese to help him fit in. He came expecting to work and learn.

If I had gone through the legal channels to become a citizen I would be very upset at those who didn't think it was necessary. It bothers me to see the grand USA becoming so wimpy that it crumbles under the whims of a few. We are quickly getting to a point that if you are a natual-born citizen of this great nation, you are a taxpayer, and a hard worker, you have fewer rights than your neighbor who has crossed the border illegally. I don't get the logic.

First of all, we need to define the word "illegal". It means different things to different people. If I break the speed limit I have committed an illegal act and will be penalized. If a foreigner enters our country illegally, he/she is free to accept our medical care, our food stamps, even our Social Security. If they are not going to be penalized, why do we insist on calling them illegal?

If every city would follow the lead of Farmers Branch and enforce the law within their own boundaries, maybe we could lick this problem. I'm afraid, however, that we will continue giving in to a few voices and ignore the multitude. I'm proud to be an American. I just wish this country would go back to its roots and stand up for what is right. And legal.

Hunting Season - Woman Style

The hunting season officially came to a close this past weekend. While Robin spent two months freezing his butt off in a deer blind, Patty and I had slumber parties. That's our idea of hunting season.

The fun begins the first weekend in November and concludes the first weekend in January. As Robin packs his gear, loads his arsenal, and heads out to do his macho thing, Patty is packing an overnight bag in anticipation of Hunting Season - Woman Style. A typical slumber party for us includes no cooking, lots of eating out, Christmas shopping and total relaxation. It's a time of female bonding, much like the male bonding that is going on at the deer lease. The similarities end there.

We're enjoying piping hot enchiladas in a warm restaurant while the guys are feasting on Vienna Sausages (yuck) or standing in the cold over a hot grill. We crawl between warm flannel sheets and Robin strives to get warm in his sleeping bag, all in the name of machoism. We sleep late. Robin has set his alarm for 3:30 AM so he can sit in a cold blind and hope a deer - one with a huge rack - will appear in his scope.

What Patty and I enjoy most is the change in routine. Our weekend is open for whatever we want to do. Christmas shopping becomes less of a chore when sharing it with a friend. We accomplish a lot if we want to, or loll around the house in pajamas if the urge hits us. The time is so relaxing that I don't even get mad at Robin when he comes home with arms laden with dirty dishes and puts them in the sink while I'm cooking dinner. That's usually a sore spot with me, but I merely think back to the quiet weekend and figure the extra mess while I'm cooking is worth it.

Patty and I were having our morning coffee Sunday when I looked at her and said, "countdown to hunting season. Ten months!" We both wanted to cry.

Diet and the New Year

Dieting seems to be the most common New Year's Resolution. I guess some people need a target date to implement their goals. While I have nothing against a weight loss program, I have a big problem with fad diets and those who expect miraculous results.

I believe there is only one way to lose weight and keep it off. It's called torture. Torture involves a disciplined exercise regimen and ignoring the taste buds. Drinking three glasses of water before a meal for that feeling of fullness won't cut it. After all that water my taste buds are screaming for something good.

My daughter Allison and I were discussing diets recently and she told me about a comment Rosie O'Donnell had made. Rosie had baked Tollhouse cookies and offered them to her then new girlfriend, Kelly. Kelly refused the offer, stating she wasn't hungry. Rosie wanted to know what hunger had to do with it. I can so relate. It's not what is going on in our stomachs that makes us want to eat. It's those tiny, annoying buds on our tongues that demand to be satisfied. I'd have to splurge to the point of misery before food would no longer appeal to me. Even then, it would be a brief fast.

I'd like to report that I have complete control over my taste buds, but I'd be lying. Like millions of other people in the world, I give them full reign. Even during those times when I try to eat a healthy diet, I know how to wreck the health benefits of vegetables with cheese and fruit with pie crust. My favorite source of protein is Peanut M&Ms. Like I said, it's not the feeling of fullness that sheds those pounds, but learning to deny the whims of the buds.

Regardless of my weight, I have to indulge in the foods I love. And because of that, I have to implement the torture diet by setting some limits. Yes, I'll eat my hamburger and fries, but half of it will go into the garbage can. I have to have pizza and savor the smaller portion I have allowed myself to have. If we were truly honest with ourselves, we'd admit that half a burger is filling. The other half is used only to keep those taste buds happy.

There is no miracle drug on the market that will instantly melt away those pounds. I am not fooled by all the claims made by weight-loss products or fad diets. The only solution is the torture diet with exercise and extreme restraint. Show those taste buds who's boss.

But if a product is ever available that numbs the buds and keeps them in a stupor long enough for weight loss to begin, I'm a customer. Until then, I'm at their mercy except for the rare occasions when I have a smidgen of control. Unfortunately, I don't have the upper hand for long.

Welcome 2007 and the dreaded torture diet.

Mirrors Don't Lie

Especially a big, honkin' one on a pedestal with three light settings and a magnifying side that works like a microscope. That's the surprise gift my friend, Patty, gave me when she came to visit this week. She'd told me over the phone that she had something for me that "you'll hate me for when you see it, but will love me for after you use it". Well, I already love Patty. I've loved her since we met in the sixth grade. She's my friend from way back. But the giant mirror is really testing this friendship.

I was very anxious to use it the next morning while applying makeup. Patty said it really helped while working on the eyes with shadow and mascara. So, I plug the thing in, tap the base three times for the ultimate light, then peered into the magnified mirror for the shock of my life. I knew I had a mustache but didn't know it could be styled. Where did all those black hairs come from? And my face! I don't think the moon has that many craters! I saw trenches, pits, sun spots, and broken capillaries that made my face look like the map of Texas. And I have a unibrow when I thought I had two nicely shaped eyebrows. I don't even want to mention nose hair. Yuck.

Ever so slowly, I recovered from shock long enough to use the mirror for its intended purpose. I rubbed and rubbed the foundation into my skin, wondering why it wouldn't smooth. Maybe it never had and I hadn't noticed. But my trusty mirror pointed out every application flaw. Then it was time to do my eyes. How does anyone get shadow on lids like that? No wonder I can't see. My lids droop. I got ready a lot faster when I didn't know I looked thrown together.

Patty is a precious friend who spoils me rotten. She comes over so often bearing gifts. I have about 120 bottles of perfume and most came from her. Besides the perfume, she has spoiled me with clothes, jewelry, purses and shoes. She buys gifts that appeal to my senses. Therefore, I'm not surprised that she gave the mirror for my sense of sight. But I do see two extremes here. While a bottle of perfume can arouse the sense of smell with a floral bouquet of fragrance, the mirror showed me a stranger. A stranger I didn't want to know. A stranger who made me think of some of the characters from the Wizard of Oz. Maybe even the Bride of Frankenstein.

"You will hate me, then love me," Patty had said. I do love you, my friend. But I'll love you more if you will stick to my sense of smell. The mirror is too much.

Caution: Danger Zone

That is now the new name for my kitchen. I enter at my own risk. I ventured in there to make what I thought was a simple lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches and walked out with a band-aid on each hand.

The cutting board was the first item to attack me. My block of cheddar cheese was sitting on it as I used the cheese slicer. As my hand came down my middle finger on my right hand connected with the lip on the cutting board. It hurt, but I kept on slicing cheese until I saw blood splurting all over the place and saw the broken blood vessel. I tried to contain the flow of blood long enough for Robin to apply a band-aid.

Now bandaged, I go back to slicing cheese and bang the same finger on the lip of the board again, rendering the band-aid useless. We applied another band-aid and finally ate grilled cheese sandwiches.

Then, it was clean-up time. I reached into the sink to rinse the dishes I'd washed and a paring knife pricked a finger on my left hand. Again, the blood came. Again, another band-aid. By this time, of course, I believe that God is trying to tell me something: "Stay out of the kitchen!" It's an absolute danger zone when one considers the amount of lethal weapons that are in that small space. There are ovens, stoves, knives, and even cutting boards. I'm thinking seriously about going on a strike. Imagine the chaos if I should decide on a more gourmet meal like Hamburger Helper instead of simple grilled cheese!

As I deal with two sore fingers and one that continues to pop open and require a new band-aid, I am convinced that I'm not a good candidate for kitchen duty. I'm in favor of calling in delivery or frequenting all the area restaurants. This is not an indulgence, but a life or death matter for me. I don't want to enter the kitchen in fear, afraid the flour canister will drop on my toes, crushing them. I don't want to be burned, stuck, stabbed, and beaten by all the innocent looking utensils that reside in my kitchen. I'm serious, this is war.

It would be wise if all of us took a poster board and wrote "Caution: Danger Zone" in bright red letters and attached it to the refrigerator. Unless you're an adventurer or risk-taker, there is no need to subject ourselves to such bodily mutilation. Take it from me, a victim of the cutting board and paring knife, and save yourself some grief. Order in tonight!

My Boy/Man

How does a woman know she is married to a boy?

I told Robin about a toy our 5-year-old grandson got for Christmas.

His response?

"How come I never get anything like that?"

I was hoping to buy for a grown man, maybe???

The Joys of Marriage, XIV

Laundry: I'm not exactly what one would call a fanatic when it comes to laundry. My cabinets above the washer and dryer don't contain ten different kinds of powder, bleach, and fabric softener. However, I do have my own way of doing laundry. It's rather simple and standard but it gets the clothes clean.

When I married Robin I saw a new way to do laundry. He doesn't sort the clothes. He fills the machine with whites, darks and towels. This method really eliminates some needless steps, right? And there's nothing like wearing a black shirt with towel fuzz all over it.

I'm the one who does the laundry in our family, but there are occasions when Robin feels he needs to run a load. Since he has a home office and I don't, he can sneak in a load while I'm away. Imagine my surprise when I come home to a freshly washed blouse that still has makeup stains on the collar and was dried in the dryer, making it two sizes too small. He doesn't understand my reaction. I point out that I know which blouses need a stain remover and which ones fare better drying on a laundry rack. Ok, he promises not to mess with my clothes again. But he continues washing his clothes with a towel or two thrown in if the mood hits him to do laundry.

I have certain laundry days and I'm faithful about them. The clothes get done on those days, regardless of whatever else is happening in my life. I plan for the laundry, therefore I'm there with a listening ear for the buzz of the dryer. I know that certain items need to be hung immediately in order to cut down on my ironing time. When Robin decides he needs his favorite pair of jeans washed, along with enough other things to make a full load, he does it on his schedule instead of mine. The result is that while I'm cooking dinner the buzzer goes off and no one is running into the laundry room. So the dryer is turned on again later to fluff the clothes. Perhaps even for a third time. When it isn't my laundry day, I'm not in that mode and haven't planned my day around the dryer. The clothes usually come out wrinkled since Robin may know how to turn on the machines but hasn't learned all that the buzzer signifies.

Since he knows not to include my clothes in his random laundry days, it's really not a big problem in our home. I often wonder if men deliberately screw up the sorting of clothes so that we will ban them from the laundry room. Makes perfect sense to me. As it is, we still have to deal with pockets that weren't completely emptied, rolled up sleeves and socks, and looking for stains they never knew were there. Recently, I forgot to check one pocket in his windbreaker and found a tube of warm lip balm in the dryer. Had the top come off, we would have had grease on everything.

There are just some things women would prefer doing themselves. At least I know once laundry is done that I will still be able to fit into a favorite top. I've been known to ruin a few of Robin's shirts in the dryer. Fortunately, he gets mad at the manufacturer instead of me. He insists that all clothes should be able to stand the heat of the dryer and to throw in all his shirts. I'm glad he doesn't blame me for the mishaps. I know how I'd feel toward him if the situation was reversed, which is why I do the laundry.

The Perfect Gift?

I don't know when I have received a Christmas gift I have enjoyed more. Robin and I were doing our Christmas shopping when I was sidetracked by a shoe store. Bored by that common problem, he told me he'd meet up with me at Spencer Gifts. I walked in just as the cashier was bagging a gift for me. Knowing that Spencer Gifts can range from vulgar to exotic, I asked him: "Did you buy for the woman you have or the woman you want?". He just smiled.

My curiosity and a touch of disappointment took hold of me Christmas Eve when I found a battery in my stocking. Since I knew he'd bought one present at Spencer Gifts, I could only imagine what the battery was for. I continued opening gifts, then Robin told me to open a fun one. I asked if it was from Spencer and he nodded. I did not expect what was inside. It was a Fart Machine!

Robin loaded the battery and pushed the button on the remote. The funniest sounds issued forth. I rolled on the floor laughing, with tears rolling down my face, as Robin laughed hysterically at my reaction. The proud moment came when I was in complete control of the remote. I pushed and pushed the button, all the while as laughter erupted. What is it about a fart sound that cracks us up? I know I'm not the only one who lacks refinement, for many have laughed at my new toy. It was a hit at other Christmases we've had and I took it to work and had fun with it there.

The best part is the laughter felt so good. I'm one of those who gets so stressed during the Christmas season. I wanted to post a "Bah, Humbug" on my blog but never found the time. I love Christmas but in my quest to shop for everyone and make the occasion perfect I tend to lose some of what the holiday is all about. Not that it has anything to do with my little machine and its funny noises, but it loosened me up and made me laugh. And I've been laughing since! I came home from work today and had my housekeeper laughing as I pushed the button to produce all the varying sounds of a fart.

You may be thinking at this point that Robin doesn't have a romantic bone in his body, something I've thought a time or two myself. But when I could finally lay down the remote and open the last gift, I saw the romantic, loving side of my husband that I adore. He gave me a pink sapphire and diamond ring. I've long yearned for a pink sapphire.

So, amid the gifts he gave me sits a Fart Machine, and my finger is adorned with a beautiful ring. I'd say he bought for the woman he has. Thanks, Babe!

Birthdays in Bandera

Cheryl and I have reserved our annual condo week to celebrate our January 22 and February 22 birthdays. This will be our fourth trip to the condo in Bandera in the Texas Hill Country. We've been other places but this is our favorite. Being on a hill in the winter with the babbling brook just beyond our balcony makes for a very relaxing stay.

February is Cheryl's busiest time at work so we have chosen January or March to be the months for this exciting trip. This time, we leave January 20 and return on the 27th. I'll be there over my birthday and I can't think of a better way to celebrate than total relaxation with a cherished friend. Our trips aren't planned for sightseeing or visiting famous landmarks. Since we see each other once a year we want to visit with each other, play table games, eat junk food, and stay in our pajamas. Bandera is the Cowboy Capitol of the World and that title is totally wasted on us. We seldom wear makeup or style our hair. As I stated before, the purpose of the trip is enjoying a friendship in a relaxed environment. Daily naps are part of this relaxing ritual!

The pictures here are from last year's trip. Actually, all our trips have about the same pictures. The only change is the pajamas we usually get each other for Christmas in anticipation of our trip.

For the next five weeks Cheryl and I will be goofy on the Yahoo Messenger. It will be a time of excitement as we enter into "Bandera Countdown". We write "Oh Boy" in a large font style, along with many other phrases that describe our excitement. Bandera has become a word of many meanings for us. It's not just a place we love to go, but the word itself has a calming effect on us. If we are stressed we write "Bandera!" and the other understands what that means. Life has gotten hectic and we need a dose of Bandera.

We've wondered about the possibility of making Bandera a 51-week stay and go home for one week. Then we realize our husbands might not stand for that. On the other hand, they might.

Countdown to Bandera! Bandera, here we come!

Happy Birthday, Robin!

We are celebrating Robin's 59th birthday today. I guess I will keep him another year. However, when he reaches 60 I might have to look at the situation again.

Our plans are to shop for jeans tonight. That's what he wants for his birthday. Then we will go to dinner and he will feast on lobster and I will have filet mignon.

Angela, you might like to know that I totally forgot to bake him a cake, something I might have to make up for tomorrow. I know you haven't forgotten the year I didn't bake your cake on time. No one should have a December birthday. There's so much going on that we miss very important things!

Happy birthday, Robin! And I thought you were old when I married you and you were 50! I love you, Babe. I look forward to many more birthdays with you.

The Joys of Marriage, XIII

Sleeping habits: Robin and I are night owls and usually get a surge of energy around 8:00 pm. Neither of us snores so bedtime is peaceful, other than the cat nuzzling our faces during the night. Mornings are a whole different story. One of us wakes up, one doesn't.

I'm the one who has a hard time dragging my lazy butt out of the bed. In the beginning, it was Robin. He had to have two cups of coffee before I could say "good morning" to him. Somewhere along the way, it changed. And it changed drastically.

Now it's Robin telling me to either hit the snooze button or get up. This goes on through about 4 snooze button punches. My wake-up call is from the radio by my bed. Robin uses Garfield who is across the room and he has to actually get up to hit snooze. So, we're listening to the oldies and Garfield yelling "time to get up, sleepy head, time to get up". Or if Robin hits snooze, we hear "OK, go back to bed, sleep longer." It's annoying, but I bought the Garfield clock for him when we were dating. I never expected to live with it.

When Garfield is finally shut up for the day, Robin makes coffee and brings it to me in bed. I used to do that for him, but times have changed. I'm comatose in the mornings. And I need peace and quiet when I finally do get up. I want to sit there and sip coffee while my eyelids are trying desperately to open, all in a peaceful environment. It doesn't happen. Mornings are the time when the mischieveous little boy in Robin wakes up and wants to play.

"Are you awake yet?" I mumble that I'm getting there. He asks again. I answer. Then he asks again. I don't answer. We're beating a dead horse here. Then he goes into a long rendition of his nose song while I stew in silence and hope he hasn't come down with a cold. Some mornings he creates his own lyrics to certain songs, such as this one:

You ask me how I knew
Our romance was through
It must have been the guys
I saw between your ...

Well, you get the picture. This morning he jumped in front of me to block my path every time I moved, shut me in the closet, and sang "Happy Trails to You" in the shower. I should have lived with him first.

Robin says he's having fun because he never had a childhood. "Don't childhoods end after 18 years?", I ask him. Besides, I've raised three kids and I'm not up to doing it again with an over-grown boy who likes to pester. I'm glad he wakes up in such a good, playful mood, but have some consideration for those of us who don't. He thinks I'm old and stuffy, I think he's immature. Thankfully, we don't let these differences destroy our relationship.

As the day wears on, the little boy in him is still playful while the man in him is peeking through with a look I know well. I try to make the transition between the two and it's confusing. I love the many sides of my husband but shutting one down and putting my focus on another is hard. It's the age-old difference between men and women and what floats their boats.

Unfortunately, there are often negative consequences to hanging onto childhood. I wish there was a snooze button that could be pushed that would put us all on the same page. Sometimes I still see the little boy in front of me when he asks, "Aren't you in the mood?"

There's only one answer I can give. "I'm not a pedophile."

The Joys of Marriage, XII

The dishwasher: Every woman I know has a certain way she likes her dishwasher loaded. We know which way provides the most optimum use of the space. The silverware basket is obvious, but the other racks and dividers take some creative nesting.

Nesting is the key word. We place the items in such a way to make room for the next plate or bowl. I have certain places I use just for dinner plates, or just for dessert plates, or just for bowls. The lower rack is for coffee mugs and glasses. Dishes don't even fit right in those racks. So, we know how much will fit into the dishwasher, right down to the last fork.

Of course, this system is interrupted if anyone else opens the dishwasher to place something inside. Often I have to rearrange things because a mug might be placed where two plates would fit if loaded correctly. Robin finds this system of nesting pretty comical.

He's asked me why should he bother putting something in the dishwasher if I'm going to turn around and place it on another rack. I told him I'd rather do that than see the dishes left in the sink. Dishes left in the sink are saying, "I'm too lazy to put this away and I want someone else to do it for me."

While I was recovering from surgery I happened into the kitchen when Robin was filling the dishwasher. He was helping me out so I forced myself to keep my mouth shut. I did, but my facial expression must have been screaming at him for he laughed and told me he knew his "system" was killing me. It was. I saw wasted space that could have been utilized if nesting had been done.

A few days later I was getting some trash out of my car and placed it in the carport trash can. Robin stopped me and told me when a liner isn't in the can, don't use it. He went on to explain that he'd cut holes in the bottom of the can so it could drain the rain water. Without the liner, my trash might go through the holes. I asked if that was his equivalent of dishwasher nesting. He laughed and said no, probably because his method made more sense.

I may be picky about my dishwasher, but I believe men are just as picky when it comes to their territory. Want proof? Go to the garage and borrow a tool.

Happy Anniversary, Brian & Allison!

We had a beautiful Christmas wedding 11 years ago today when Brian and Allison tied the knot. Now, 11 years later, they have three beautiful children, a beautiful home, and the credit of filling our lives with happiness.

Happy anniversary, you two! We wish you many more! (Side note: Papa and I get to keep Jude and Baylee while the happy couple go to dinner. Sophia, who depends on her Mommy for food, will tag along with them.)

Birthday Girl!

Finally found a picture! Happy birthday, Angela! I love you!

Happy Birthday, Angela!

I gave birth to my last child, another beautiful daughter, 31 years ago today, December 9. What a joy she continues to be! Just wish I had a picture to share as my Kodak program is acting up. However, we all know I have beautiful kids! I love you, Punkin! Happy birthday!

Honest Abe

Patty and I began another slumber party weekend by dining at my favorite Mexican restaurant. Since I was short on one dollar bills, when it came time to pay I handed two $20s to our waitress. The bill was only just over $20 but I needed the ones to leave a tip. Imagine my surprise when I counted my change! I had the $19 and the few cents change, but also under the ticket was my two $20s. Ah ha! Not only do I get a free meal, but I get an extra bit of cash for my wallet.

As luck would have it, the "good" in me surfaced and I flagged down the waitress. When I handed her the money she hugged me and told me she loved me. Since she's been waiting on me for years I guess she felt comfortable enough to show her gratitude in that way.

Actually, "good" runs in our family. Allison was at an ATM machine recently and noticed the previous transaction hadn't been closed and she was asked if she wanted to withdraw money. Being a daughter of mine, of course she punched the "no" button and someone else's card was given to her. She went to a teller's window and turned in the lost card. How many people would have taken advantage of the situation and considered Christmas shopping a done deal? That is, unless the unfortunate soul stumbled upon my ATM card.

Being honest is not a lost virtue afterall. If the Golden Rule was always followed, crime would be a thing of the past. Consider how many police would then be on welfare.

The Joys of Marriage, XI

Thermostat wars: It amazes me how a small mechinism that controls the climate can come between two self-proclaimed adults. Winter is a time of marital tension in our home. Robin raises the thermostat to a sweltering 72+ degrees and I lower it to a bearable (perhaps chilling) 67 or less. Most of these adjustments are done in secret. Of course, the truth is soon out when one of us starts complaining that it's hot or cold.

Naturally, we both think we have valid reasons for our differing opinions. Robin says he's always been cold-natured and should be warm and comfortable in his own home. I argue that since I pay the electric bill we should lower the thermostat and dress warmer. Wear winter clothes in winter? You've got to be kidding!

So, here comes Robin in a short sleeve T shirt jacking up the thermostat. I ask where his long sleeves are. He doesn't want to wear long sleeves. I ask why he isn't wearing layers on a day when it has dropped to below freezing. I still haven't received a straight answer for that one, unless "You aren't my mother" explains it.

I, on the other hand, am happy to get back into my winter clothes after having tired of my summer ones. And I think it's ridiculous to be hot in winter clothes because the house is too warm. How about lowering the thermostat so that winter clothes feel comfortable, and save a little on the electric bill? What a novel idea!

Ah, but the war continues. I'm not trying to be cruel. I honestly believe there are ways to control the unnecessary "over the top" electric bill and still prevent frost bite. If I were to see Robin in layers and shivering, then by all means raise the temp! But when I see him in short sleeves I have to assume the day feels warm to him and he saw no need to wear anything heavier. Does this make sense? Or does it make more sense to pay over $600 a month to stay in summer T shirts?

I might have a partial solution to this annual battle. Now that we are mortgage free, I could pass the electric bill to Robin to pay. My nasal passages will still dry out but he will have to pay to wear those T shirts. Or, he might get a clue once the bucks are coming out of his pocket.

Mortgage Free!

Oh, happy day! After 32 years in this house, a pool, a home improvement loan, and refinancing, our home is now paid off in full! The final payment was due December 1, and we have breathed a collective sigh of relief. Unfortunately, the house needs some repairs, some as serious as the foundation, but we haven't decided to do an equity loan yet. We might wallow in the extra monthly cash for a few months. I so want to remodel and add new floors, paint, and furniture. I'd jump right into it if it weren't for the medical bills.

December must be the month for good news. Yet another debt will be paid in full on the 10th. That would be the HAAS machining center at work. All our equipment will be paid for by then. Yippee! Most is passe and we need to update, but, again, I might wallow in the extra cash flow for awhile.

Back to the medical bills, I've always believed we should pay for services rendered. It's not easy for me to accept help or shun financial obligations. However, this was emergency surgery, something I wasn't prepared for due to the high cost of medical insurance. So, please, someone lead me to the person(s) who handles this issue for the illegal immigrants! I'm a citizen who pays taxes and I want the same benefit.

A Picture's Worth 1,000 Words?

My words will have to do, sans any pictures for awhile. We took some cute shots Thanksgiving of Baylee just hanging onto the dog and donkeys, but my Kodak program hasn't been able to load them. The program has always been temperamental and its latest attitude is unnerving.

Actually, I fear the whole computer is about to crash. Icons disappear from the desktop, and strange error messages have become the norm. Neither Robin nor I have a clue about the hard drive. I don't know how a computer works. I'm just happy when it does.

So, until we fix the program or purchase a new computer, I will rely on my words alone. Yes, it could get very boring around here.

Simon Says, "Buy me!"

Is there an avid reader on your Christmas list? Or, perhaps someone who enjoys fine art? Do you feel good when the bad guy finally gets his due, and good is rewarded? If so, you might want to purchase the Simon Says book set. We all need gift ideas and I wanted to pass along this one.

You may find the books online at your favorite book store, or through me, or through the publisher at www.simonsays1and2.com. This is my first novel and a dream come true. I'm especially proud of my book covers, designed for me by my artist daughter, Angela.

Spread the word this Christmas!

Wednesday's Child

For 10 months I have spent Wednesday afternoons the same way, visiting my friend Maurine in a nursing home. When her only child, Carol, passed away last January a group of us ladies at church decided to take a day of the week to visit her so she'd never have a day without a visitor. This was especially important because Maurine had no other family in this area.

Unfortunately, today will be the first Wednesday that I've missed a trip to see Maurine, other than when I was out of town or recovering from surgery. Maurine fell and broke her left hip only five days ago. I went to see her Sunday in the hospital. She was discouraged and wanted to die. The very next evening, she did.

Each of us who saw her regularly grew to love her very much. We adopted her as a second mother and she adopted us. I was Wednesday's child. I'd walk into her room to either find her sitting in her wheelchair or asleep in her bed. Once I left her a note and told her I'd be back, that she was alseep and I didn't want to wake her. She told me to never do that again. She didn't want to sleep through a visit. After that, I'd wait for awhile, then wake her up. A few times we'd both nod off, but we were together.

Maurine was always alert and very sharp. I enjoyed listening about her life and the rich history she would share. She was a Daddy's Girl and told me often how much she loved her "Poppa". "I was his constant shadow," she told me more than once. She told me how she met her husband, Monroe, at college, how she had worked at the broom factory as a young woman, and the birth of her daughter. And there were times when she became quiet and whispered that she missed Monroe and Carol so much. How sad to be the surviving member of your family. We all knew we couldn't replace the daughter she lost, but we hoped to fill some corner of her aching heart.

Maurine's taste for food changed drastically as she grew older and few things appealed to her. Nutritional drinks kept her alive, and the small samplings of mashed potatoes, cream corn, cereal, and plain yogurt. Plain yogurt in small cartons were hard to find, so I'd end up many times buying the large carton and asking a nurse at the front desk to store it for Maurine. Robin would label the carton with her name and draw a smiley face. Maurine would reach for the carton every time I carried in a new one to see what picture Robin had drawn this time. It was a small thing, but it cheered her.

I remember the time she was eating her yogurt and kept getting a spasm in her hand. I finally reached for the spoon and fed her. "I can't believe someone would actually feed me," she said.

"I've had three kids," I told her. "I'm used to it."

"I still can't believe someone cares enough to do it."

"Just be glad I'm not doing this with every bite." I then waved the spoon in the air and said "Open wide! Here it comes!."

That produced a laugh from both of us.

Maurine was one of the few in the nursing home who still had all her faculties. I was a soft touch for those crying out for help or just needing someone to listen. Maurine would dismiss them with a wave of her hand, telling me they are crazy and I should pay no attention to them. Turning away made me feel cold blooded, but I was there to see my friend and I wanted her to know it.

Yes, today will be different. There will be no visit to the nursing home. I won't miss that pitiful environment, the odd smells, or those who walk around aimlessly. But I did look forward to walking into room 610 and being greeted with Maurine's smile. I will miss that, and her tough, hearty outlook on life, her sense of humor, and her friendship. Maurine would have been 90 in December. She was looking forward to that milestone. How sad that the pain from a broken hip destroyed her will to live, just as Carol's death had done last January.

Those three days in the hospital she told all of us over and over that she wanted to die. I told her that God is in control and to trust in Him. I was crying as I held her hand, then had to laugh inwardly as she told a nurse to go away, then turned directly to me and said she loved me.

That was Maurine. Wednesday's child will miss her.

Hanging Onto Hangers

A notice was left on our door announcing that a truck would be on our street to pick up clothing and appliances. I thought this was a good time to clean my closet. I go to the trouble of ironing my tops only to squeeze them into a packed closet. I practically had to close my eyes and throw. I got rid of tops and jeans I'd been hanging onto for years. Most were from the County Seat. How long have they been out of business? I thought I'd fit into the jeans again (jeans are jeans, right?) but decided that although my weight is the same as back then, my shape isn't. So they all got stuffed into bags for pick up, along with a dozen pairs of shoes - something else I collect.

Of course, before I could reach the clothes in the back of the closet I had to organize my scrapbooking papers and tools. That was fun and got my juices flowing again to be somewhat creative and start my grandchildren scrapbook someday soon. Some hobbies will just have to wait until the holidays are over.

The final clean up - after 4 bulging bags are carried to the front door by Robin - is the huge pile of clothes hangers. Anyone who knows me well knows I am anal about clothes hangers. Not so much like daughter Angela who has to have all one color, but my concern is abundance. I fear of running out of hangers. I cringe when Robin grabs one and pulls it apart for some outdoor chore he's doing. I've even been known to twist one back into shape so it can be salvaged. And imagine my delight when I buy a new outfit and they leave it on the hanger for me to take home! I hoard my hangers. I'll never be accused of being Joan Crawford!

Alas, there was no room to store the mountain of hangers that remained on my floor. I forced myself to pick out the better ones and bag the others for trash day. Yes, trash day. I'm actually throwing away alllllll those hangers! Our next trash day is Wednesday so there's still time to change my mind.

So, I'm near tears as I discard my treasure of hangers and Robin walks in with a look of shock on his face. When he found his voice, he said "where's my wife and what have you done with her?" Yes, he knows me well.

Sophia Renee

Our precious little Sophia Renee (Renee after her Aunt Angela Renee) arrived today and was greeted by many happy family members. She weighs 8 pounds, 4 ounces, and is 20 inches long. She doesn't have much hair but it's a light brown and could turn blond like her brother, Jude's. She's a very beautiful baby and I'm not just saying that because I'm her Memaw. She's just perfect.

Big sister, Baylee (that sounds so strange!), kept asking if she could "pet Sophia". Jude gave her lots of kisses, but his main concern was caring for his Mama. He looked very important in his "Big Brother" T-shirt. Special visitors today included grandparents Jerry & Sharon, great-grandparents John & Bobbie, Uncle Ron and Thomas. Sophia met a lot of family today. Of course, Memaw and Papa were on hand too.

What a blessing to welcome my 8th grandchild and I thank God for all the wonderful children and grandchildren in my life.

Allison is doing very well other than low blood pressure. She's on cloud nine as she holds her little girl. Proud Daddy Brian is wearing a big smile too. Welcome to our growing family, Sophia. We love you!

Finally - Cruise Pictures

These are random shots taken on our cruise. Our room (and public places too) was cold and I had to buy a zippered sweat-jacket with a hood, which I didn't wear except this once when I heard Patty coming out of the bathroom and I wanted a laugh from her. I got it. Another picture is an embarrassing shot of one of our room service trays. Yes, it was just the two of us in the room! But, hey, we were on vacation. The picture of me with the statue was taken in the Cayman Islands and don't ask me what it means.

Book Signing Party!

My wonderful neighbors hosted a book signing party for me this morning. I felt so honored. The table was beauitful and they used my books to decorate the table and other surfaces throughout the house. It touched me deeply when I walked in this morning and saw it all. They did a wonderful job! We were served a breakfast casserole, pumpkin bread, banana nut bread, crackers with cream cheese covered in jalepeno jelly, coffee, and mimosas for those who like a little champayne with their orange juice. It was the perfect table.

I sold 49 books! That was very exciting for me. Several bought more than one set to be used as Christmas gifts. And I met many new friends and got to visit with old friends. I was so happy that my sister drove from Oklahoma to attend. The morning was a huge success and I am so grateful to the lovely ladies who made it possible.

The pictures include one of the beautiful table, a deliciously cute one of my sister, Donna, and me with my lovely hostesses Jean, Yvonne, and Barbara. It was a day to remember and one I will cherish always.

How Big is Your Pumpkin?

Halloween isn't complete without a costume. My daughter, who is scheduled for a C-section in one week, decided to dress as a pumpkin. The shape was there, all she needed was body paint. She's pretty artistic for a tired pregnant woman caring for two pre-schoolers! Happy Halloween everyone!

Soccer Champ!

It's fun watching four-year-olds play soccer. This was Jude's final game for the season and I finally got to see him play. Kids this age are either into the game or just enjoying being with other team members. Jude fits into the latter. While the kids were kicking the ball, Jude might be seen examining a cluster of pine needles or holding hands with teammate Colton. A few times he yelled up to us in the bleachers, once saying "I love you, Memaw." I don't expect to hear that from the field when he graduates to the varsity team.

At the end of the game all players received a trophy. Jude was thrilled to get his and proudly showed it off to us. Baylee wanted the trophy for herself and I don't doubt that she will get one some day. As you can see from the picture, she had fun playing soccer with Papa.

We cheered for Jude when he kicked the ball out of bounds or any other time when his foot accidently made contact with the soccer ball. He was there to have fun, to enjoy seeing his parents and grandparents there for him, and play with the kids. No one expected pro soccer skills from kids so young and all were there to have a good time.

After the awards ceremony, we went to Spaghetti Warehouse to eat. Jude even announced our plans on the field when he was supposed to be chasing the ball. What a comic and what fun we had with him and his family today. You're the champ, Jude!

Cruise Pics Coming Soon

Patty and I had a wonderful time on our cruise, even though we didn't do much. It was two weeks after my surgery when we boarded the ship and I found that I tired very easily. No nightly shows for us, no fancy dining, but plenty of room service and pampering. We rested, read books, and relaxed on the balcony. We even missed the lifejacket drill! I was worn out and got into bed, then the announcement came that ALL should report to their muster station with lifejackets in tow. We dismissed it, thinking we could get away with breaking the necessary, but boring, rule. Our cabin steward unlocked our door and walked in, thinking the room would be empty. He promised to keep our secret.

My bed was next to a large window with a perfect view of the ocean. Especially beautiful, was the night when the moon was shining, making a sparkling path in the water. I took many naps facing that window.

Patty and I managed to visit all three ports on our cruise. We found some good shopping deals in Jamaica, avoided the sting ray swim in the Cayman Islands, and shopped too much in Cozumel that we hired a horse and buggy to take us back to the pier. Even though I was wearing my corsett, my guts felt like they were falling out. It was back to the ship and back to bed for me.

We always sample all the perfume on the ship and in port. We came home with four new bottles to add to our vast collections. I'm running out of room and need to buy a hutch to hold them all.

I brought my camera on the cruise but never felt like taking pictures. Patty did and will get them to me as soon as she can and I will post them.

I plan to return to work full time next week, which will be five weeks since the surgery. I'm still sore inside and out, and tire easily, but I think I can manage sitting at my desk. I'll miss the daily naps that Dr. Robin insists that I take. I owe that guy a fabulous vacation very soon!

Bon Voyage!

Patty and I are leaving today to spend one night in Houston before boarding our ship in Galveston. We'll be sailing on Carnival Cruise's Conquest, one of the larger ships in their fleet. It should make the sailing go smoother. Our first two days will be at sea, my favorite days of all. Wednesday we will stop in Montego Bay, Jamaica. Thursday is the Cayman Islands, and Friday is Cozumel. We will dock in Galveston on Sunday, the 8th. Whether or not we go to shore depends on how I feel and what type of port it is.

The surgeon assured me I could take this cruise since it's two weeks after my surgery. He only told me to do what I feel like doing and to all my friends and family who have worried over this, let me assure you that I'd rather be sick at home than on another vacation. I will take it easy! Patty and I plan on lots of rest and reading. I'll spend most of my time on the balcony with a good book (not Simon Says, I've read it several times already!).

The pain I've felt has been replaced by soreness, which is a big relief. I tire easily and know when it's time to get back in bed. I was concerned that I wouldn't be able to fit into my clothes from all my tissues absorbing a week of IVs. I am happy to say I've lost 18 pounds of fluid since I've been home from the hospital and won't have to wear nightshirts on the cruise!

I hope to bring back prettier pictures than the ones posted below. Surely I won't have two vacations turn into a nightmare. Thanks to all of you wonderful friends and family who have stood beside me. Now, take a break from me and focus on your own lives. This invalid is off to the high seas!

Vacation Pictures

Sorry, had blogging problems and the pictures wouldn't attach to the previous post. Trying again.

And How Was Your Vacation?

I promised pictures of our vacation and here they are. As you can see, there are no fishing scenes, or beach fun, or lounging around the pool. Sometimes, no matter how well you plan a vacation, something happens to rearrange the plans. That's what happened to us.

We arrived at Surfside around 5:00 pm on Friday and checked into our condo. Our balcony had the perfect view of the beach and we began settling in for a week of fun and relaxation. Once the luggage was carried upstairs, we decided to run out for a view provisions to hold us over until we could do some serious grocery shopping. We browsed in an unusual bait/convenience store and a talking parrot greeted us as we walked through the store. I had fun taking to him and watching how he carefully eyed my every movement.

From there we went to another store in town and picked up a few things - mainly milk for Robin's coffee and Diet Coke to curb my addiction. We headed back to the condo via the beach, driving very close to the water's edge. For dinner, we opted for The Red Snapper where Robin had red snapper and I had spaghetti with Greek meatballs. It was a wonderful dinner and we really enjoyed ourselves. As we finished eating and were talking together, I noticed a wave of pain run across my stomach and was gone. I thought no more about it until I awoke the next morning with more of the same pain.

I assumed it was trapped gas (we've all been there) and moved around alittle to get things moving. Then I mentioned to Robin that I felt nauseated. Immediately and without warning, the pain increased and I was throwing up all over the place. OK, we ruled out trapped gas and decided to see a doctor. The condo manager suggested we go to the emergency room in Lake Jackson, about 30 minutes away. We pulled up before noon and by then I was unable to get out of the Jeep by myself. I was rushed inside for all kinds of tests and labs, leaving a nice trail behind me as I went (uh, more of the vomiting). Finally, we were told I needed emergency surgery for a blockage in my small intestines.

The surgery was performed the next morning - the day Robin was scheduled to be on a party boat for deep sea fishing. I was in ICU for the next three days before being sent to a regular room. A section of my intestines had died and had to be cut away, then re-attached. The blockage was caused by a kink in my intestines - probably from another surgery - and scar tissue had formed. And as luck would have it, the time came at the end of the week for Robin to check out of the condo before I was even out of the hospital.

I was told I could go home on Friday and I was so anxious to do so. I hadn't seen my kids and we were all frantic to have an emergency going on when we were so far apart from each other. The doctor signed my release and told me I could leave after another IV. The nurse removed the 23 stapples from my stomach and helped me up to have my lunch. I saw blood on my gown. Robin looked and confirmed that my incision was opening up. The surgeon was called in, he repaired the damage, and taped me up again. Then, the port had to be removed from my neck. The same nurse struggled to get the metal clamps out, but one was stubborn and buried too deeply into my skin. More blood. A second nurse - and scalpel - were brought in and the mission was finally accomplished. I was fitted with a corsett (I'd hoped to shop for swimwear) to ensure a smoother ride home. We left at 6:00 pm for Dallas. I was so swollen I had to travel in a nightshirt and, yes, I had to stop at gas stations and walk inside to use the bathroom. Besides the nightshirt, picture this - hair that had been slept on for a week, no makeup, pink flip flops, and a granny housecoat Robin had hurridly purchased at Wal-Mart. My daughters would be shocked!

And speaking of shocked, I am forgetting my vanity long enough to post two pictures of our vacation. One is of me after I was moved from ICU, nose hose and all. The other is a picture Robin graciously took of my "condo" for the week.

I'm improving every day and feeling so much better now that I have dropped 8 pounds of fluid I'd retained. How awful to go a week without food and gain 5 pounds! I saw my own doctor today and he said I was healing nicely except for second-degree-type burns caused from the surgical tape. He lanced 6 blisters and gave me a prescription for cream. Neighbors arrive daily with our meals and we feel so blessed to be surrounded by so many caring, wonderful people.

Thank you to all who have prayed and supported us. I guess I shouldn't have been so smug in my last post and rubbing it in about vacationing at the beach. Oh well. I'm so thankful we returned in one piece.

Vacation Bound, Blog on Hold

Robin and I will be leaving for the beach in a couple of days and the blog will be neglected. I will have my laptop with me if the urge to write gets too strong. I hope to bring back some wonderful pictures of us relaxing with fishing poles, books, beach and sand, while the rest of you were working. Our condo is right on a 14-mile stretch of deserted beach, with the pool facing the beach. Flashlights are ready for romantic strolls at night. I've agreed to pier fishing as long as I don't have to touch bait or fish. One day is set aside for Robin to do some deep-sea fishing while I lie around the condo/pool/beach/bed with a good book. Riding the high seas on a party boat doesn't set well with my stomach. Robin, however, got used to that in the Navy. We hope to catch some end-of-summer sales on swimwear, sightsee, and get lots of rest. We're almost packed and ready to go!

Book 2 On Sale Now!

Simon Says, Book 2 became available today. I have ordered in bulk for friends and family in my area. Books 1 and 2 can be purchased from me for $18 each, which also covers my shipping cost. For those outside of my area, please visit www.simonsays1and2.com for ordering information. Bookmarks will be available soon, at no charge to you. Thank you all for your support during this exciting time in my life! I am truly living a dream!

The Joys of Marriage X

Shopping: Neither Robin nor I are shoppers. I'm sure my kids can remember all those times when we had to stop at the mall and I'd say, "let's get what we need and get out." Robin teases me that I enjoy shopping when he knows I don't. I guess it's something women are supposed to like and he thinks I should fit into that category. Maybe because I have a weakness for shoes and perfume.

Alas, shopping is a necessity, especially grocery shopping, which I detest. On the rare occasions when Robin will accompany me to get groceries, I regret that I invited him. For one thing, my grocery bill is higher. He picks out ice cream and chips and car magazines. The worst, however, is his own attitude of "get in, get out."

My reasoning on this subject is simple: we are here, we might as well get what we need and not have to come back anytime soon. Oh no, not for Robin. "Is it on the list?" "No, Robin, certain things don't make it to the list because they are standard, we get them each time we go." "Well, let's go home. You can come back tomorrow."

Tomorrow??? We are at the store, the items we need are a few aisles over and he thinks I should drive home without them, only to return the next day and pick them up. That doesn't make sense to me. If I don't care for this chore, why not get what I need now and delay having to repeat the same chore? This falls into the same reasoning I pointed out in a previous post about how he seldom fills his Jeep when he stops for gas. The bottom line is he wants to get out of the grocery store and it doesn't matter to him if I have to go there alone every day of the week.

Shopping at the mall isn't as bad with him, but it still ties me in knots. He's really doing nothing wrong, but I feel the pressure to hurry and get him out of that horrible environment. And, still, he asks if the things I'm looking at were on the list. "Didn't we come to look for a silver purse? What are those nightgowns for?" I explain that since I'm going on a week-long cruise with a friend I need more nightgowns. "But you told me we were shopping for a silver purse." I give up.

I've concluded that shopping in pairs should consist of two good friends. Leave hubby home to watch football. When you show him all the purchases, he will assume they were all on your mental list when you entered the store. And you can shop in peace. There won't be a pair of hands steering you away from the perfume counter or shoe department. Robin has an extensive gun and knife collection. I guess they just appeared here one day. Surely he didn't go shopping for them!

BB & SS

Here's my best buddy, Cheryl Derowski, with her copy of Simon Says, Book One. Cheryl was very instrumental in getting this book published and I will forever be grateful for her genorosity and interest. She's a wonderful, cherished friend!

Book 2 Has Gone To Print!

Simon Says, Book 2, has been submitted for printing. It should be "live" by Friday or Monday. I'll be ordering in bulk for local friends and family. Please check simonsays1and2.com for availability. When book two's price is listed it is ready to order. This has been a very exciting adventure and I thank all of you for your support. Please note the slight change in cover art on book two. My artist did a wonderful job and I hear so many compliments on her. Love you, Punkin!

Class of '68 and '69

Robin and I had a wonderful visit with Ronnie and Jan Tucker today. Jan and I were classmates and friends at MacArthur High School in Irving. Jan made sandwiches for all of us and we got to meet her handsome son, Brian, and her beautiful granddaughter, Maisye. A big highlight for Robin was getting to see the Cobra car that Ronnie had assembled from a kit. Quite a kit! And, we saw his orange 1970 Cuda that he bought when it was new, way back when! We toured their beautiful motor home and even sat in there for awhile and talked in the nice A/C. That's the kind of camping I could do. No roughing it in that thing!

Jan and Ronnie live in Oak Leaf in the De Soto/Ovilla/Red Oak area with country surroundings. They are a lovely couple and we really enjoyed our visit. There's never a dull moment with Jan around. Her enthusiasm for life is contagious and I suspect she never meets a stranger. How great to be on such a natural high! We look forward to more fun times with this delightful pair.

Thank you, Jan!!!

My high school friend, Jan, left a review on my blog! She finished reading my book and had wonderful things to say. I'm sure that since we've been friends for years and she typed one of my stories for me in high school has NOTHING to do with her generous praise. It's my first book "review" outside of family and I will always cherish it. Jan, you're an absolute sweetheart! I'll have a picture of her holding the book posted here very soon! Thanks, Jan!!!

A Night With Sissy

Robin and I just enjoyed a wonderful night out with Donna and James. We met at Olive Garden in Denton for dinner. From there, we moved the visiting to a little table in Barnes & Noble for coffee and dessert. Robin found a parking space closer to the front of the book store and told Donna and James it was labeled "author parking". We talked and laughed a lot and it was so good being with them. We made plans to make this a regular event. Donna, of course, looked as beautiful as ever. I'd planned to take my camera so I could post pictures of our fun, but at the last minute I had a senior moment.

Rueben Sandwiches!

I have a loaf of my Mother's homemade rye bread! She also threw in some rye flour, caraway seed, and the recipe for a rare occasion when I feel up to baking bread.

We sampled it earlier this week by having egg salad sandwiches for lunch. Delicious! Robin and I love rye bread! So, after work today I bought provolone cheese, corned beef from the deli, horseradish, and saurkraut. I made wonderful, fattening, grilled Rueben sandwiches on the best bread around! Not only delicious, but a quick meal. I usually buy a corned beef and cook it all day to make these sandwiches. For after work, the deli meat worked fine. Remember these, Allison and Angela?

Happy Birthday, Baylee!

Baylee is 2 years old! However, she can carry on a very intelligent conversation. Her doctor asked a few months back if she could say 10 words. She says more than 10 sentences! Her vocabulary is well over 300 now. We had a pool party in her honor today with pizza, pound cake with strawberries (her choice), chocolate ice cream and chocolate chip cookies. She loved swimming and really got into the gift opening. It doesn't take us long to learn how to unwrap a present! Not many of our pictures turned out. Here's one with Jude and her new baby highchair to go with all her kitchen birthday toys. Happy birthday, precious girl! Memaw loves you so much.

Books For Sale!

I ordered a few boxes of books and they arrived today. They are selling to local friends for $18, which includes my shipping cost to have them shipped to me. If you want a copy, either call or e-mail me and I will make sure you get it. If you are out of my area, it will be better to order from the publisher and pay one shipping cost. You may order your copy at www.simonsays1and2.com.

Candy Girl

Here's Candice, my 15-year-old granddaughter. I'd taken her and Camryn, 13, to have their ears pierced in July and here Candice is showing off some of the cute earrings we bought. Isn't she beautiful??? I'll make sure Camryn sends me pictures of her modeling her jewels to post on the blog.

Natural Bridge Caverns

Robin and I had a wonderful weekend away from home. He'd been needing a vacation and he really wanted to do something "manly" like tour some caverns. It was an interesting tour and we really enjoyed it. We took all back roads and loved the scenery as we traveled through the Hill Country. I fell in love with Marble Falls on the banks of the Colorado River. We spent some time there driving the side streets and thinking about moving! Our meals were in Burnet, Johnson City, and New Braunfuls, where we spent the night. We made a point to visit several dams in the area and all the beautiful lakes and rivers. We saw a lot of deer, which I'm sure Robin will remember when he's sitting in his blind during hunting season and not spotting a thing. It was a quick, fun trip and we will head out again next month for a week in a condo on the coast.

Book Reviews!

I was excited to get these pictures from my daughter, Allison, showing how much she and her family are enjoying Simon Says, Book One. Allison and Jude with the book made me smile when I saw it. But when I saw my big tough son-in-law wiping tears from his eyes - well I lost it! Meaning, bladder control because I was laughing so hard! This guy is a clown and this picture is definitely Brian! The book is geared for women and I have stated that the only men I expect to read it (have to read it) are my husband and my son. Now, however, Brian is showing me that men's hearts can be touched as well. Thank you, Brian!

A Beautiful Friendship

This Saturday, on the 19th, will be 13 years since I walked into grief recovery and met Cheryl Derowski. It literally changed my life! A friendship began almost immediately as we shared our loss and helped each other move beyond the pain. It's fitting that my first copy of Simon Says, Book One, arrived just two days before the 13th anniversary of our friendship.

Cheryl's mother was my writing critic and she read each chapter as I wrote it. She encouraged me to have the book published. She even checked into ways we could accomplish that. I soon forgot about it ever happening until early this year when Cheryl offered to help make my dream come true. She financed my blood, sweat, and tears and made this day possible for me. I thank her so much for that, but this post isn't so much about the book as it is a friendship that has meant everything to me.

I won't take the time to list all the things we have in common. However, it was those very things that were revealed in grief recovery that drew us together. It helped, too, that we were struggling with the same loss and the same feelings. It took awhile, but soon the crying together turned into laughter and a relationship that trusts completely. Even though she is now in Florida, the phone and Yahoo Messenger keep us in daily contact.

These 13 years hold so many special occasions for us - birthdays, Christmases, trips together, venting together, sharing all the ups and downs of life. But the highlight of our year is our annual week together in a condo. We loved Bandera, Texas, so much that we have been there three times. That's our refuge, our week to catch up and talk and laugh and nap and pig out and play 200+ games of Yahtzee. Even though we have visited other places, Bandera seems to fit our "pajama days" lifestyle with its secluded setting in the Texas Hill Country. We get groceries shortly after we arrive, then it's fun , lazy days of no makeup and living in pajamas. Since we see each other no other time in the year we don't need a busy schedule to keep us happy. Quite the contrary. We love being away from work and household chores and are content being lazy. It might sound like a bore to most people, but it is our slice of heaven.

So, Cheryl, I salute you for being such a wonderful friend these past 13 years. I know I can go to you with anything and you will listen with interest and understanding. Thank you for being a friend when I needed one the most. You are utterly remarkable. Thirteen years and counting!

It Arrived Today!!!

Simon Says arrived today! I'd already left for work when UPS delivered it at home. My wonderful husband drove to Irving and walked in with the box. I'm sure I squealed like a pot belly pig!! It turned out beautifully, thanks to Angela for doing my fantastic cover. And special thanks to Cheryl for helping me make a dream come true. I am thrilled with the results! My picture in the back came out grainy, but who cares??? I have my book!!!

Alvy and Rene

Alvy and Rene Quispe this morning at my office as they prepared to head home to California. They conducted many seminars while in the area on relationships and understanding the workings of the Holy Spirit.

On Sale Now!

Simon Says, Book One, is now on sale at Authorhouse.com. It will be available to order from retail stores in 30-45 days. However, I suggest the cheaper price going through AuthorHouse. My new web site will take you directly to the books. www.simonsays1and2.com

Book two will be available as soon as the final cover approval is made. My copy of book one is on its way to me and I can't wait to see the finished product! It's been a long road to travel.

Dealing With the Elderly

The elderly in this case is my cat, 16-year-old Toby. He's always been the perfect companion. Unlike most cats, when I called him he'd come running to me. If I yelled "get the bug", he'd run in with eyes darting all over in an attempt to find the bug. If I yelled "Toby, do you want a treat?", you better believe he will be in front of me in two seconds flat. He'd even stand on his hind legs when I asked him to beg for his food. Every morning without fail, he was on my pillow tapping my head with a paw, encouraging me to get up and dish out his food. And, the only time I saw him hiss in his 16 years was when I was doing butterfly exercises on the floor and hit him in the nose with a dumbbell when he sneaked up on me to investigate.

Now that he's joined the ranks of geriatric felines, he's lost a lot of that endearing character that made me fall in love with him instantly. He can no longer jump on the bed to tap my head, I seldom make him beg for food, and his hearing is failing to a point that if I see a bug, I have to shove it in his face. He's lost one tooth that we know of, and a lot of weight has fallen off. The worst problem, however, is the intestinal problem. While his appetite is still great, the food goes right through him. And, when it's time to go through him, it goes no matter whether he's in the den or at his litter box. In his younger days, accidents like this were uncommon. Now, we have to use a flashlight to get up during the night to make sure we don't step in something. Which brings me to the whole point of this post.

Allison was over with Jude and Baylee and we kept smelling something. I finally got up and noticed poo-poo tracks all over the floor. Baylee had stepped in Toby's latest deposit on the floor in one of the rooms. Which room, I don't know. It was all over the floor in 6 different rooms. Baylee's dress shoes and socks were coated in it. We stripped her down and Allison put her in the bathtub while I cleaned floors. I went through 4 small buckets of soapy water and a scrub brush in my attempt to clean. Then, I emptied almost a can of Lysol. My frustration and impatience over dealing with an elderly cat were apparent. How does one handle a mess like this when you have accepted and loved a pet like a member of the family?

A solution is hard to find. On one hand, I think it will be a relief when he finally decides he has harrassed me enough and goes to old cat land. Then again, he's been an enjoyable and loyal friend for many years. I look at him and ask myself if I want my kids to put me away when I lose control of my mind and bodily functions. Can we even compare a human to an animal? All I know is that I love him and he's a very messy cat now that he's old. The two facts are at war with one another.

Maybe the frustrations and added work of caring for the aged is God's way of softening the blow when the end comes. I don't know. It's just that many days when I have cleaned up poop and scrubbed the floor around his food bowl, I feel that Jude said it best one day when he came in the door for a visit: "Toby! You're still here!"

Book Two Ready For Print!!!

Simon Says, Book two, has been approved to go to print. We are only waiting on the cover, which is slightly different from Book One, to be completed. We've gone over the three changes that need to be made to the cover and I should be able to make the final approval within days, When that's done, it will go to print. The publisher has asked me to view my copy of the finished product before placing orders for books. Will keep you posted.

Book One has Gone to Print!!!!

I was just notified that Simon Says, Book One, has gone to print. My book will be live in two weeks. Once the publisher is ready to accept orders, I will let everyone know. I'm guessing right now that book two is about 2-3 weeks behind the first one. Remember, book one isn't complete without book two. It's one long story! It took 3 years to write the book and the publishing process, including editing, has taken 7 months already. I'm so excited to be nearing the end of this exciting journey!

I Give This Woman

I give this woman, Clayton
To be your wedded wife.
My last child, my precious daughter
To forever share your life.

I give her unreservedly
For I know you realize
How deep and strong and gentle
Shines the love within her eyes.

Please take the love she offers,
It's deeply rooted in her heart.
And know she'll always cherish
The tender love that you impart.

I give this woman, Clayton
In ivory satin, pearls and lace.
Amid love songs and scented flowers,
A gentle glow upon her face.

Take her moods and sensitivity,
Give her wings so she can fly.
As you take the time to know her
Your wants and needs she won't deny.

I give this woman, Clayton
How I wish her Daddy knew!
He'd said no man was good enough,
He's missed the joy of knowing you.

I feel so blessed and grateful
For the training that you had,
The special molding and direction
Given by your Mom and Dad.

I give this woman, Clayton
Remain steadfast by her side.
I'm so thankful God is once again
The Father of the bride.

1996, for my daughter, Angela.

A Wedding Prayer

Lord, today she's getting married,
My daughter, my joy and pride.
That little girl I nurtured,
Such a beautiful, glowing bride.

A divine plan was placed in action
On Brian's first birthday morn.
As he blew out a single candle
His future wife was born.

They share more than just a birthday,
There's a love that's strong and true.
Let it grow and gently blossom,
Lord, this marriage belongs to you.

Please take her hand into yours,
And walk her down the aisle.
Perpetuate the love and warmth
That today is in her smile.

Deliver her into the arms
Of the man who loves her so.
Commit them to their promises
So they'll never let them go.

Wrap your arms around this man
As he takes my little girl.
May he handle her with tenderness,
Let no sadness touch their world.

Lord, today she's getting married,
How I want her life to be
As full of the love and happiness
That she's always brought to me.

Today it's satin instead of jeans,
And childhood toys are put aside.
My little girl's a woman now,
Lord, You're the Father of the bride.

1995, for my daughter, Allison. How honored I was to be asked by my two daughters to write a wedding poem to be included in their wedding program. Tomorrow I will post the one I wrote for Angela. It's still so vivid in my mind how beautiful both of them looked on their wedding day!

I Need You, Lord

Lord, I need you here beside me,
My loyal and trusted Friend.
You listen with understanding,
Your patience has no end.

Lord, be my loving Comforter,
For you know what's in my heart.
Work through my hurt and emptiness,
For I don't know where to start.

Lord, be my blessed Redeemer,
I need rescue from my sins.
Keep my eyes focussed on Jesus
So that Satan never wins.

Lord, be my business Partner,
Stand always at my side.
Give me wisdom and direction,
There's no greater corporate Guide!

Lord, be my children's Father,
For they've lost their precious own.
Direct their steps with tender care,
Let your presence there be known.

Lord, be my loving Husband,
My faithful, constant Mate.
Keep your gentle arms around me,
Be the One on whom I wait.

- Peggy Chrusciaki, 1995

This is one of the many poems I wrote when I finally stopped running from my grief and let the hurt and healing begin. Only someone as mighty and powerful as God could mend a heart that had loved and lost such a precious husband. Thank you, Lord.

Identity, Chapter 7

Our blog novel added two chapters this weekend. Please go to the Identity link and catch up on the novel. Let us know where you think the story should go!

Identity, Chapter 6

The latest chapter of Identity is now posted on our novel site. Angela left me with a lot to ponder, but that is the whole point of sharing this writing. I've had such fun doing this with my daughter and I know you will enjoy her chapter 6.

I'm on Top of the World!!!

Simon Says, Book One, is getting ready to go to the printer! I've approved both the galley and book cover and the publisher is checking final details such as my Pricing Agreement. We are so close! I also received the galley for book two and had to make two minor changes, so it will be another two weeks before I can sign off on it. Yippee!!!

The Joys of Marriage, IX

Appetites: I'm sure you've heard of those odd individuals who 'eat to live'. Then there's the rest of us who 'live to eat'. Robin fits in the first category and I fit in the second. He will actually shove a plate of food aside and tell me he's full. I can't comprehend that. I'm full too, but my taste buds are still active. What does "full" have to do with anything?

I've seen Robin go all day without food. He starts feeling irritable and lightheaded and finally tells me he hasn't eaten and maybe he just needs to eat something. You think? So, he nibbles on something and announces that he feels better already. Imagine that.

I have a mantra that I repeat often. "No food tastes as good as a size 6 feels." On very rare occasions I honestly believe it. Usually, however, I listen to my taste buds and they are telling me it's a stupid phrase. So I'm always at war with my taste buds. Robin is tall and thin and can eat what he wants. Sometimes he will indugle in several bowls of ice cream or empty the M&M candy jar and still not gain an ounce. I balloon up just looking at that stuff.

Of course, I don't just look. I'm hooked on peanut M&Ms and have Robin hooked as well. He can eat all of that and conceal it well on his tall frame. I'm short and - well - short, and 5 M&Ms tip the scales. Pizza is another indulgence of mine. Robin said he's never eaten so much pizza in his life since he married me. He'd rather have seafood, which I won't touch.

Robin has moments when he will request that I make a certain meal or dessert. He even claims he married me for my fried potatoes and eggs. But the truth is, he can go indefinitely without thinking about food. I've asked him how, is there a secret he can share with me, and he just says he doesn't let food rule his life. I can down a burger and fries at lunch and be thinking about what I'll have for dinner.

A big weakness of mine is eating my Mother's cooking. I look at it this way, I don't get to enjoy her meals that often so why not indulge while I can? So I fill my plate, add one of her big homemade rolls, and sample all the pies for dessert. The Thin Man just looks at me and says, "can you say oink?".

The Joys of Marriage, VIII

One marriage, two names: Against my better judgment, I honestly tried changing my last name when Robin and I married. I ordered a dozen certified copies of our marriage license from the state of Nevada and went about making the changes. I was overwhelmed! Banks, mortgage, driver's license, social security, investments - the list went on and on. We had agreed that it might be wise to keep my own name where the business was concerned, but I knew I'd never get used to signing one name on personal checks and another name on business checks. I finally gave up. Robin wasn't too pleased but he didn't make a big deal out of it.

I have been Peggy Chrusciaki for over 32 years. By now, even my maiden name sounds foreign as it applies to me. I am Peggy Chrusciaki and will always be Peggy Chrusciaki. The minor changes I'd made in the beginning made me feel like I was in the Witness Protection Program. This is the name my friends, family and business associates know me by. I saw no need to change that.

If we were younger and wanted children together (heaven forbid!) I would eagerly change my name. At this stage in my life, I saw no point in assuming a new identity. One day I suggested to Robin that we both choose a last name we like and go have them changed. He looked at me like I was crazy. "No. This is who I am. This is who I've always been. I'm not changing my last name." Well, duh! The same applies to me.

Now, he sort of laughs as he calls me Peggy Lee Pannell Venters Chrusciaki Shuman Occupant Resident. Whew! On those rare occasions when he gets a little touchy about this subject, I've found a way to shut him up. I merely tell him ever so sweetly that I find it so precious that he has this old-fashioned view about marriage. This tough, macho, modern-day man drops the subject.

The Joys of Marriage, VII

Romance, The Wedding: Much to my surprise and delight, Robin combined his romantic and humorous sides and planned our small wedding. Since both my daughters had church weddings only 7 months apart, I was more than happy to leave all our wedding details to Robin. Often when we were together he'd say, "I know when you're getting married and you don't." No, I didn't know, not for a couple of months.

The time finally came when he told me where we were going and when, so I'd know how to pack. We would be married in Las Vegas and were leaving toward the end of March. I knew we had to set aside a day to get our marriage license so I did some quick calculating. It soon became obvious to me that we were getting married on April Fool's Day. I mentioned this to Robin, my very romantic partner, and he confirmed it with a laugh and an "isn't that funny???" I had to agree that it was not only funny, but very appropriate.

Robin reserved the wedding chapel in the Riveira hotel where we'd be staying. He arranged for the photographer, a beautiful bouquet for me, and the minister. It was all complete. All I had to do was walk down the aisle on his arm. The ceremony was quite long as our minister was long-winded. We listened to most of his words, stared into each other's eyes, and Robin winked at me often. He knows I melt when he does that.

After posing for pictures, Robin treated me to an elegant dinner and we received a lot of freebies by walking around carrying a bridal bouquet. It was a trip to remember.

A lot of people get married on Valentine's Day but how many opt for April Fool's Day? Maybe just Robin, but I found the date and his wedding preparations both amusing and romantically thoughtful. Ah, there's no fool like an April Fool!

The Joys of Marriage, VI

Romance, First Date: Robin and I have known each other on a business level since 1985. He owns a steel company and I own a sheet metal company so our paths were bound to cross. I've purchased metals from him for over 20 years now. On a personal level, about all I knew about him was that he was divorced (at least once), had two kids, rode a Harley, drank like a fish, and had wrapped his Corvette around a tree. I didn't have to scratch him off my list of available men because he was never on it. The fact that he was an interesting and appealing mix of Sam Elliot and Clint Eastwood wasn't enough to counter his wild side. So, I was surprised when he called me at work one day and said "this isn't a business call".

He told me he'd be in Houston that week on business and asked if I wanted to meet him in Galveston for the weekend - assuring me he was quite the gentleman. I discussed it with my son, Ron, who agreed Robin was a very nice guy. After much thought, I called him back and told him a weekend at the beach sounded great. I knew we'd have a fun time since we both have a sense of humor, but never expected it to go any further. I met him by the pool and to my horror, discovered the tattoo on his back. It was a pair of eyes and he had an appointment the next day to add some abstract features to it. It's a painful process but he sat there bravely and would smile and wink at me once in awhile.

I saw a totally different side to Robin that weekend. He still had practices that bothered me, but I saw a real gentleman who knew how to treat a lady. I also saw this endearing boy peeking through the rugged exterior. He told me that when I became a widow he knew he wanted to ask me out because he'd always admired mine and Chezzy's marriage. But he was giving me grieving and healing room. Also, he was nervous about asking me out. He said he'd asked for his daughter's advice and she told him to go for it, that the worst that could happen was a NO answer.

In spite of our differences, we were strongly attracted to each other. Our relationship grew and we grew individually. I remember the night we were having dinner in his favorite bar and grill, when he turned to me - fortified with scotch and water - and said "I love you". I knew it wasn't just JB talking, but he needed the JB to get the nerve to tell me. Fortunately, I hear it all the time now without the help of alcohol. Robin hasn't had a drop to drink in almost 6 years. He's come a long way.

He told me once that he was pulled to me because I was a Christian with substance. Maybe this wonderful man isn't as shallow as he'd like us to believe.

The Joys of Marriage, V

Romance: This subject will probably require several posts. Men and women are certainly different in their views on romance. I will call this post Romance: The Marriage Proposal.

All women will remember their marriage proposal. I am no exception. While mine was far from romantic, it was definitely unique. Robin showed up at my office one day and noticed there were donuts on the counter. He leaned over the sink eating one, and at the same time, reached into his pocket and pulled out the biggest diamond I'd ever seen. He said, "See if this fits."

Fits???? Of course it's going to fit! If I have to slather my finger in butter, you better believe it's going to fit! I felt like the wicked step-sister trying to fit into Cinderella's tiny slipper. Alas, the ring was too small but I wore it on my pinky finger until Robin had to pry it off to have it sized.

The point is, guys, a rock that big does not need a romantic delivery. It could have been buried in a can of dog food and I still would have said a resounding YES! So, you can skip the candlelight dinner and the flowers and soft music. Just think big when you go to the jewelers.

My last diamond ring from Robin was given with a little more imagination. It was hidden in a birthday mug full of peanut M&Ms. I thought that was cute. Actually, I thought the marriage proposal was cute. We have shared many laughs over it. And Robin knows I would have said yes regardless of the size of the diamond. As I stated before, I'm not the shallow one in this relationship.