Show & Tell

Here's my HP. Took a while to take the pics because I had to straighten the desk a little.

Note the "Rear Window" behind it? Throught the lattice squares I spy some slices of peoples lives as I watch their comings and goings each day.




Close up







Printers and wires









By the way, I was one of those awkward ones who said they'd never have a computer or a cell phone for that matter. I wouldn't call myself a techno, geek or nerd but I sure don't know what I'd do without my hardware. I seldom begin a day without checking my mail, blogs and calendar.
Well. gotta go-I'm going on a date with my family (bowling) and my friend-girl with blue fuzzy robe who I am trying to fix up with this man. But that's another story.

Rear Window

I was inspired by BB's astounding descriptions of her neighborhood regulars. Even though I live in the country I have the perfect circumstance to people watch and my neighborhood is totally "different," for lack of a nicer word. You may remember the 1950's movie "Rear Window," with James Stewart, well, I have a six foot wide picture window in my work office where I spend at least half of my waking hours. From it I can discern countless bits of trivia about the passersby. In this community there are anywhere from 100 to 150 tenants, some permanent, some temporary. At one point or another during the day each of these tenants must pass by my window and contend with, though usually without knowledge, my appraisal of their particulars. Not to mention the many looky lu's that drive through to see what's down this mile long private road to the community. For example, it is still early and already I've seen:

the racing teen. He speeds by Mon-Fri, in his thrice destroyed Taurus, with a look in his eyes that is a combination of unbridled determination and wreckless abandon. I've known him since he was 6 yrs old and it freaks me out that he is so grown. Not grown up, mind you, just grown. His driving to the HS each AM is a constant sore spot with my LC who feels he should also be able to drive instead of taking the bus...but I digress. Also by my window this AM has passed:

the red-faced, Irish lass. Several times daily she walks her poodle typed mongrel puppie, one of those dogs that's cute as a button at birth but quickly becomes one that even a mother couldn't love. A sweet woman with a heart of gold, a temper to match Beezelbub and the most delicious Irish brogue. I could listen to her for hours. Long white hair frames her perpetually ruddy complexioned face. And talking about odd couples (was I? anyway...) just pulling into his driveway is her husband of many years..

the pillsbury doughboy/skinny version. From Mexico, he works at a local bakery, odd hours, and I always picture him covered with flour and donut dough under his fingernails. Missing many front teeth, his appearance is a little comical yet he's a very serious family man, having raised 2 daughters, now in their 20's. I've learned to only stop to talk to this man if I have at least half an hour to burn, a very verbal fellow. Ah, there goes our community maintenance man,

Mr. " mucho problemas, Teddi. " (How my name sounds with a Spanish accent.) His actual name is one of those beautifully flowing Spanish names that rolls off the tongue like a musical note. The title I just alluded to is the most heard phrase when he comes to my door. After 20 years of living in the states and working here for the community he still speaks only broken English and I'm always in a quandry wondering if he really understands me or is just shaking his head up and down to appear intelligent. Much more to this man than meets the eye. Before meeting him I'd heard of people who came to the state to work and sent their paychecks back to their families but I didn't really believe people would do that. He has been doing this for much of the 20 years he's been here. He is provided a home here in the community as part of his income. Although I probably couldn't do without him he sure frustrates me at times. Being born and raised in Mexico he just has such a different cultural background and set of attitudes which often affects his work. Now, there goes an unusual couple out for their morning stoll, one of my RV customers just passing through town.

Manon et Serge. Those are their real names. A young couple from Quebec, they have bulit their own RV and are on a worldwide tour. Their website has a pic of the RV which now is additionally covered with written names of the places they have visited including Afrique.

The very first passerby I see each AM is the mom of a girl who waits at the bus stop with my son and I each day. I could think of some very cute nicknames for her but she is a dear friend and I'd only make those jokes to her face to make sure she knew their intent. One nickname she'd be comfortable with is:

lady in fuzzy blue robe. On cold mornings like today she wears a long flowing, royal blue, fuzzy fabric robe over her clothes, for her walk around the corner and down the block to the bus stop. Guts, huh? The funniest thing about it is that her 85 yr old dad, when he was alive, used to wear the same getup to walk from his home to the garbage dumpster and when collecting soda cans for salvage. He was a real site, one I'll remember fondly for the rest of my life.
At 7am this morning, a tenant who'd moved out, leaving his cousin to finish out the eighth year of his lease here, walked by my window. He's returned from his hometown of somewhere in Kentucky since his cousin has just suddenly died after a short bout with Lymph cancer. This man is the...

Wild hillbilly from hell. Hell being-not Kentucky- but a crazy military background and a monsterous drinking problem that had made him an extremely bitter person. He had rare lucid moments when he seemed much more human. His temporary move back to his hometown was a last ditch effort to change his life to one resembling humanity. I must admit that a recent discussion with him reveals many changes that I hope will continue to grow in him. It seems he may again be a resident here. His cousin often graced my window view and many affectionately know him as

the glory man. He could often be seen walking down the road with his arms swaying and pointed heavenward as he chanted "all the glory," as if to be praising and thanking a divine being for all around him. He was a beloved tenant who left many indelible marks on our neighborhood and our hearts-the "altars" he built out of stones and an assorted hodge podge of miscellaneous stuff, the effigies of, who knows, made out of twigs, curtain rods and the like, the endless kindnesses he performed, helping a man who had alsheimers remember his way home-every day, putting an extra steak on the Barbie to share with neighbors.

Just a few of the souls that have caught my eye this morning.

A Change of Life Story

After reading Mrs. Pom's post of today, I decided to write this story. I've thought about telling it before but felt it was too personal and that perhaps a reader may label me after learning of what really changed my life. Despite that risk, here it goes:
My distant past is much of a blur. So many of the experiences I had I look back on in wonder, wonder that I am still alive. Not that I didn't put any value on life, just that I never thought about the consequences of my actions or decisions. I lived for 'today" with no care about tomorrow. Mostly due to shame and embarrasment I will not mention my foibles in detail but suffice it to say, it's a miracle I'm still here to remember them.
I quess I was 30 by the time I started to reflect on how the present would define my future. I got married, to a man with a similar crazy past and we tried to live down our mistakes together. At first we drowned most of them with mind-altering substances (another mistake) but finally we broke that chain of ups and downs and began to search. For what? I don't think we knew then but it was a spiritual influence that caught our attentions when we met a person of the Baha'i faith. We were facinated by the ideology of a "one world government." Simultaneously we got involved with several anti-establishment organizations which also advocated a new kind of alternative government. We became vegetarians, stopped tobacco use and although drugs were still a part of our life, they were much more under control, or so we told ourselves. We would have long conversations with our "mentor" (I guess that's what you'd call him,) about the theories associated with the Baha'i 's and tried to justify our drug use into our new lifestyle. Eventually we came to feel we were being hypocritical. We had to physically move states to finally erase our former habits because we had such little self-control.
We had no formal ties to the Baha'i religion but kind of stuck to it's ideals because they were more true to us than the religious ideas we'd been brought up with. In actuality we were only trading one lie for another, one destructive lifestyle for another. But, such is sometimes the nature of searching, it takes more than one try to find what your looking for.
Before long, some of our ruinous ways led to a pretty weird divorce. And that's all I have to say about that!
But, all that changed very suddenly.
I met my husband, TT, who had studied the Bible for years. He'd gotten a little disallusioned with life himself and although he felt strongly about the power of living life by Bible standards, his will was not strong to do so because of many discouraging events in his life. Once we married, we initiated a study together. Him, with the intent of strengthening his resolve and me, still searching and intrigued by much I was learning. At first it was the intellectual endeavor of the investigation that drew me in but in time the reasonableness, the love and compassion of the originator of this Bible and seeing the positive effects of it's application, convinced me I had found what I was searching for all along. Not only in myself, but in all I became associated with during this search, these affirmative effects were evident.
I don't know if I can convey with words how this discovery has changed my life. Of course, I still have discouragement at times and lose track of the hope this endeavor has led me to. I don't consider myself "religious" per se but my faith has become a way of life. The rest is just a means to an end. The end of working to overcome my imperfect nature by making a conscious effort to do so - in everything I do. I could be a custodian, a grocery store cashier (not my preference) or a mobile home/RV park manager or just a stay at home mom and be equally satisfied because my real boss is not a human, but a perfect, compassionate, loving being.
Having a husband who shares the same love of this truth I've found, and two beautiful kids (yeah I want to kill them at times) to give the same oppotunity to find a love of that truth gives my life all the meaning it needs.
A far cry from the life I described at the outset, a life that I look back on as if it was another lifetime, another person.
After this post I'm almost relieved that I don't have many readers.

Show and Tell HATS

At first I thought there was little more than one kind of hat in my house. When I gathered them together there was quite a selection. This assortment doesn't include the sun visors of which there were too many to photograph. First and foremost there are the western hats. There's the winter black felt, the 7X beaver grey felt, the summer straws, some stetsons, some resistols.






Then, of course there are the caps, helmets and a few dress hats, hardly ever worn.















One more...we found an old Panama type hat. No idea where it came from. I love the way hats look but I have a hard time feeling comfortable in them. Some people wear them with such charm and grace. Well, so much for hats...Till next time.

To My Love, But You May Share

Undoubtfully beautiful.
So witty, so petite.
I love her so,
It's not a difficult feat.

Her hair is long,
Her toes are short,
Her humor is wild,
Similar is a child.

She loves her Creator,
He's no dictator.
He offers all.
With a small return.

She gives her all,
Asking nothing back.
Her qualities are vast,

TT, you sent this to me with a promise of a poem a week. You are so romantic. It ends with a comma. Did I miss a line or is this a promise of more to come?
Can I learn still more about you? Sometimes I feel so connected that I can guess your every move, which I often can. But every so often, you surprise me. Our love is like a rare and elegant flower, growing like a hibiscus. . . A bloom peeps out from a tender shoot, turns into a young blossom, then a beautiful mature flower, only to eventually ripen and disappear - for a short while - only to reappear as another bloom, more lovely than the last, promising yet another exquisite creation, continuing throughout all seasons if warmth is its environment. And this creative drama occurs for untold years with but a bit of nourishment. And as with love, this nourishment is not a requirement for existence but, oh, the added returns.

Your simple, yet eloquent, words are a nourishment to me. . . I love you, babe.

Turning over a New Leaf but Keeping the Tree

Just spent a very enjoyable hour catching up on my favorite blogdom friends. Lurked on many but was really inspired by several so decided to "speak" back. It amazes me that you all have such a creative streak and can evoke so many emotions in a reader, or listener as the case might be. Unfortuneately I am not nearly as loyal to my journalings, so I pray you be patient with my frequent long silences.
It boggles me how the simplest musings, the most mundane of lists of "things to do," are turned into an interesting post by many. My attempts at the same however usually seem blah and lifeless. So bear with my rambling, please, till I get a little more confident.
I thought I would make a list of the things I'd like to endeavor to change or improve in myself this year. Since I have so few readers I feel like I can be very candid so forgive my candor if you just stumble across me. My TT, no doubt, will read my list with eagerness and assuredly will agree with the shortcomings I plan to endeavor to overcome.

1. My anger. Most people don't know of it. I conceal it to the outside world so well and can easily put it off. But to my dear ones...oh what a price they pay when my anger flares. Each days disappointments, frustrations, mistakes, confrontations with stupidity (mine and others,) pile up to form a ball of anger that I conveniently conceal until the dear ones get home. Then the smallest of things could set me off on a tirade. Except for my dear ones, you would all say, "I don't believe it, your exagerating," but no, it's true. TT would be the first to agree since he is my most beloved and often takes the brunt of my uncontrolled mean streak. Sorry babe, I promise, I WILL try. As one wise man said, "A calm heart is the life of the fleshly organism."
2. Be more creative. The only thing I feel creative with is food and home decor. Useful, yes, but I want to expand. Writing, dreaming, art (haven't narrowed down yet what avenue,) free expression, and what ever else touches my fancy. You all inspire me but I always feel too busy to act on that inspiration. Which leads to my next change:
3. Be less busy - do things that are relaxing, theraputic. I like busy but I want to reorganize my "busi-ness" to include a little less business and some more spirituality, more family. I want to accomplish this partly by better organizing and scheduling my time.
4. Finishing what I start. I DO do this but because of bad scheduling, it's not soon enough for my preference. I get so much satisfaction when completing even menial tasks.
5. Reflect more on my blessings. Sickness or death of friends and family, personal trials and the situation of the world in general often make this difficult for me, but as I reflect on the much more difficult problems that have been sprung on so many, this year alone, that have broken their families or resulted in a complete loss of home and life as they knew it, it makes it easier to focus, if I put my mind to it, on all the wonderful blessings I have. (Is that a run on sentence, or what?) Anyway, I want to do that more fully.

As I'm thinking these through, I'm being reminded of the many more foibles I'd like to change but it's probably wise to stick to a few at a time. When you percieve I'm in a good mood you're welcome to remind me of others.

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank the many who have been in my life this year, some by their choice, dear reader, and some by mine, as I happen upon you in cyberspace. And Lori, for your continued friendship from afar which has meant so much to me. You are a reminder to me of the good times in our past as well as the times that taught us lessons, made us grow and made us the souls we are today.

Especially are thanks deserved by my ever understanding dear ones who have put up with me over these years who have really inspired me to endeavor to improve but still be me. Yes that means you babe, and our babies and a host of spiritual relations who have increased my family to the hundreds or more.

Show and Tell

Hope there's no late fee (property manager jargon) for tardy posters.
I don't celebrate Christmas myself so I thought I'd publish some pictures of some decorations, RV style. Many of the RV'ers who come through our park are what the industry calls "full-timers." This means they spend the entire year in their RV, traveling, usually from place to place, following either good weather, friends and family or just inexpensive parks to stay at temporarily. My camera doesn't do well in the dark I discovered. With the flash it looks like daytime and without it, the lights are just a blur, but here's what I got.
These reindeer stand post at one end of the RV.







This snappy sleigh with rudolph bedecks the back end of the trailer and...







this is their front door and patio, complete with lit tree and snowflake lights hanging from their awning. A 24 hour recording of carols and Christmas ditties graces each passerby.

My pictures really don't do them justice but you get the idea. As you might imagine, the stories these RV'ers tell are some pretty interesting tales.

What's Wrong W/ This Pic?

When I went out this morning to wait for the bus with the kids, there was an immediate windburn on our faces. The stored up warmth from the Franklin stove in the living room was briskly sapped from our bodies. The temperature was 27 degrees, trees were flailing wildly so that despite the cold air you couldn't "see" your breath because the wind stole it away. White, thick clouds so filled the sky that it appeared as if white was it's normal color, especially due to the early hour and the sky being devoid of any of the sun's influence.
Now, several hours later, not much has changed except that the clouds have perceivable texture though still covering the entire sky.
So, WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?
This is sunny and warm, southern Texas where people travel to escape this stuff! Parts of TX even had snow. Meteorologists predict the temps will soar to 32 degrees by afternoon. We're actually worrying about freezing pipes. Strangely, it was in the high 80's on Sunday.
This kind of weather always excites TT. He has this longing to see real snow and the thought that it may actually occur makes him appear the gleeful child anxiously awaiting the moment when he can run outside to the white wonderland and make snowballs, hear the snow crunch under foot and throw yourself down backfirst in the stuff to make an angel imprint. The slightest drop of precipitation in winter, which usually is a cold rain drop or occaisionally an icy slush drop, sends him rushing to the phone to ask others if it's "snowing" at their house too. LC and DQ have never seen snow and TT hasn't seen it since 1985 when a freak snowstorm dropped a couple feet of the icy concoction in our fair city. That was just before my arrival here. I don't believe I've seen it since 1980 on a hike in the mountains of New Mexico in August where the snow was still stubbornly holding onto the peaks from the winter before. Anyway, it IS exciting, I guess. I just tend to get MORE excited when after a long winter I see the first buds of hyacinth pushing up the earth and long bare tree branches emitting small shoots of green, and the daily progression of more and more green appearing on the trees.
Well, I've just released my blog address to TT today. He'll need to read back several posts to find out what TT stands for. I figured at least someone besides Lori will be reading then. But that's OK. I really embarked upon the whole thing just to reflect on things. So, L and TT, forgive my rambling.

An Earthcoming

First, show and tell. My car is so boring that it really doesn't need a picture. It's a harvest gold Ford explorer. Yeah, you've probably seen a million of them. As some may remember, the only difference with mine is the faint smell of dead chicken. My birth family were always chevy buyers but marriage brought me into a Ford family, hence the Ford SUV. I love BB's show and tells this just wasn't one I got excited about. I've always thought of how nice a shiny red renault (do they still make those?) or a sporty citroen mazarati would look in my driveway. My favorite car that I've ever owned was a '91 Lincoln Town Car. It always made me feel luxurious.

As I near the anniversary of the birth of my firstborn, I always recall the particulars of his earthcoming and how it changed the life of TT and I forever. LC was born at home, which, at the time was a 40' travel trailer (no trailer trash jokes, please.) I've always had this real hatred of hospitals and I didn't feel much better about doctors. Fancying myself a nature woman, I decided to find a trusted soul to be a midwife. Although many found this a frivolous pursuit it lead to one of the most fulfilling experiences in my life, both times. My first pregnancy was fairly normal but without most of the modern frills like sonograms and prebirth gender accessing. My widwife was an herbolgist and I used several herbs religiously to smooth the birthing process. Evening primrose oil and raspberry tea, blue cohosh and verbena. The nine months were some of the most remembered I'll ever live and in retrospect they passed like a freight train, a little slow in coming but once it's past you wonder how it could have gone so fast. I gained 75 pounds!! That was not a good memory! I'm still carrying most of it around I think. On the fateful night I remember laying in bed, tossing and turning, never finding a comfortable spot for my belly. All of the sudden a warmth of unbelievable proportions came over me. I soon figured out it corresponded with a watery alarm of the imminent birth. Did I say imminent? Ha! This was just a threat. Thirty-six hours of many more threats were just beginning to occur. Most of the 36 hours were spent on the pottie, facing the tank, while TT put hot compresses on my back. Many have called me weird but I think the nine months of anticipating and the several hours of wondering how THIS birth will present itself, are some of the best parts of the maternal role, even along with the excrutiating changes, stretches and pains that accompany it. I especially remember how the midwife sent TT and I outside (it was cold) to walk during the 24th hour of labor. She insisted it would speed things along. 30 hours into the ordeal she left ("Where are you going, you can't leave NOW!") and instructed us to become intimate. "This will be the clincher", she said. It always brings things along faster. Well, from that point forward things did move along. Before we knew it TT was cutting the umbilical cord and LC was laying in our arms. I worried about his head, (funny shape,) and thought he must look like TT when he was born. Tired as we were, we spent hours just staring at him, thanking God it all came out the way He purposed for a child to enter the world, wondering about tomorrow, next year and the rest of his little life. Now he's 16, driving, a HS junior and would undoubtedly be embarrased if he read this.
Every year around this time I recount the details, adding more each year I think, to my son, as he ages one more year. It's a family tradition that my mom always kept. She would hold us in her arms and lovingly tell of her trials and joys of our particular birth. At the time, as the time for each sibling came around, we would cuddle in her bosom (knowing it somehow made her feel full and satisfied) and listen as she recalled some of the details of our earthcoming. We would all be present for the "ceremony" and giggle over the poor victim of moms loving embrace, all the while wishing in our hearts that we were the victim. My eyes always fill with warm drops as I recount to my children the wonderful moments before, during and after their birth as my prayers go with them that they too will experience the many joys of life, all the while learning from times of trial and benefitting from the privilege of loving family and friends. Somehow I know that Ma would be happy if she knew I kept this vigil of memories.

show and tell

I love this set. It's from England. No, I didn't go there. I got it from a past tenant in one of the properties I rent. The whole set, can you believe it! It's so fragile looking yet feels strong when you grab the handle. But, do I use these? Not often. They sit on display on a buffet.



















These however, are the mugs TT & I use most. Did we buy them? No we got them from past tenants who left them behind. Does this seem like a pattern? Yes, it's the story of my life. Needless to say my initial is not "R". Why do I like these mugs? They're just the right thickness to fit your lip when you sip. A cup must be either white or a light color inside so that you can see the color of your beverage well. A black inside makes it impossible to tell if the liquid is water or coffee and how dark the coffee is. Coffee must be dark and rich.

Wedding Pics

Garden Wedding

This is my third try with this post. Having problems with inserting photos. I’ll get the hang of it.
Sorry, BB, couldn’t think of any original addictions. TT would tell you it’s the computer and the kids would agree. But it’s the way I relax and unwind (after a full day of WORKING on the computer.) Sounds like the ramblings of an alcoholic defending their drinking. I’ve always spent time daily reading and replying to emails, then I discovered blogs and one by one there were new ones daily I began to read, eventually comment to and now I’m slowly venturing into one of my own. You can see where this is going…
The wedding at our house was yesterday. All proceeded without a hitch, except for the bride and groom, of course, who are now permanently hitched. Guests began arriving around 1pm. The weather was perfect. We had to wait a moment to start while the groom searched for the license in his trunk.
TT performed the ceremony, beginning with a short talk on the joys and realities of marriage, focusing on its origin and counsel found in the Scriptures. The breeze was blowing lightly and it made the bride nervous wondering if the slightly top-heavy vase of lilies behind her would remain standing. However she loosened up for this final part of the ceremony…
After some family pictures and greetings from guests, all came inside for a traditional Mexican wedding meal-Chicken Mole, Spanish rice, pinto beans, ensalada and wedding cake.

After the meal the guests visited for a while then filled some take home plates for later (some may consider this tacky but its tradition
here in TX)

Then came an end to a perfect day. Off they were to the honeymoon and a new life together. It was fun but I look forward to getting back to normal. Did I say normal? What’s that?
Since I can't get more than 3 pictures to publish, I'll post this then post pictures. You'll figure it out.