Use What You Have

Since April is "Use what you have" month, I thought I'd share what my back yard friends have recycled. This close up of their nest shows up beautifully red-speckled eggs.
Backing up for perspective you can see they've used an antique oil/gas can that I have displayed on a lattice fence as the nursery for the new babes. And here is the proud mom/dad Carolina Wren. They visit the nest daily while I watch from the window but I've never got a glimpse of mom sitting on the eggs. I hope to be a witness to the emergence of the babes and their first efforts at flight. However I also love cats and will have my work cut out for me trying to keep my seven felines from being curious about these new ones.

I Think Therefore I Meme

I'm not sure how these memes work, if you need an invitation or not- but I'm picking this up from Blackbird and passing along my version.
I AM: busy.
I WANT: a house on the side of a mountain with a creek in my back yard
I WISH: I would stop aging.
I HATE: when people are presumptuous.
I MISS: being slender.
I HEAR: birds chirping and the fish tank water falling into the tank.
I WONDER: what my kids will do/be like when they are adults.
I REGRET: not having a relationship with God sooner in my life.
I AM NOT: a quiet person.
I DANCE: anything but the marangue (too much twirling.)
I SING: show tunes (to my kids chagrin.)
I CRY: seldom.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: calm.
I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: gardens, birdhouses, jewelry.
I WRITE: a blog for my campground, this blog(not very often) and 100's of emails.
I CONFUSE: many.
I NEED: an employee I can trust to spot me for a vacation now and then.
I SHOULD: think before I speak (rather, yell).
I START: each morning with a list of "things to do".
I FINISH: 25% of the list-more on a productive day.
I TAG: jamais.

Tiptoe Through the Tulips

Since I've been so busy with work I've barely had time to enjoy the explosion of spring blooms. RV'ers from all over Canada and the US have been bombarding San Antonio, which makes me happy but overly occupied with the mundane and unable to drink in the wonders of the season. Spring flowers and Spring birds are some of my favorite associations with the vernal season but the interaction with the growth process makes flowers so satisfying. I took pictures (no scent included, unfortunately) so I could revel in the things about spring that I long for all winter long. Thought I'd share. The TX drought has been very damaging to many of the wildflowers here but some have refused to stay entombed and others have been the beneficiary of the common household hose. A good imagination might fill your olfactory with joy. Wild Lantana (pungent, minty leaves)
Spiderwort (beds of these bloom in the midday sun but appear as mere grass when their purple heads sleep in the early morn and eve.)

A xeriscape succulent with summer-long lupine blooms. Don't know the name.
Most recognize these state of TX flowers. Bluebonnets sneak up threw the grass all over TX and the highways are loaded with large splotches of purpley-blue. I call this ranch cactus, grows right out of the rocks.
Even plain old photinias have an intricate blossom.
A lady Bank's rose. Not a very good pic but the little pink roses smell like heaven.
An iris bed just beginning to come alive.
A patch of scarlet amaryillis halfway thru it's short life of bloom. These aloe vera's bloom in yellow and orange but I prefer the yellows.
Not sure where this yucca plant got it's nickname but it's called Adam's Needle. This one's got a double bloom. Flowers are wonderful sauteed in butter.

Well, sorry, no tulips and I'll save the bird pics for another time. I apologize if I named a plant erroneously. Let me know if I have.

F.A.M.I.L.Y.

I read a real simple poem today that really hit home with me. Thought I'd pass it along with my thanks to it's anonymous writer for making me meditate on my actions.

I ran into a stranger as he passed by,

"Oh excuse me please" was my reply.

He said, "Please excuse me too;

I wasn't watching for you."

We were very polite, this stranger and I.

We went on our way and we said goodbye.

But at home a different story is told,

How we treat our loved ones, young and old.

Later that day, cooking the evening meal,

My son stood beside me very still.

When I turned, I nearly knocked him down.

"Move out of the way," I said with a frown.

He walked away, his little heart broken.

I didn't realize how harshly I'd spoken.

While I lay awake in bed,

God's still small voice came to me and said,

"While dealing with a stranger, common courtesy you use,

but the family you love, you seem to abuse.

Go and look on the kitchen floor,

You'll find some flowers there by the door.

Those are the flowers he brought for you.

He picked them himself: pink, yellow and blue.

He stood very quietly not to spoil the surprise,

you never saw the tears that filled his little eyes."

By this time, I felt very small,

And now my tears began to fall.

I quietly went and knelt by his bed;

"Wake up, little one, wake up," I said.

"Are these the flowers you picked for me?"

He smiled, "I found 'em, out by the tree.

I picked 'em because they're pretty like you.

I knew you'd like 'em, especially the blue."

I said, "Son, I'm very sorry for the way I acted today;

I shouldn't have yelled at you that way."

He said, "Oh, Mom, that's okay.

I love you anyway."

I said, "Son, I love you too,

and I do like the flowers, especially the blue."

It's been said:

The word FAMILY means:

FAMILY = (F)ATHER (A)ND (M)OTHER (I) (L)OVE (Y)OU

And that's all I have to say about that.

A Phenomenon

Imagine this. You're a man. You were born in a relatively poor country where you were raised along with four brothers. You married early and had several children and at the ripe old age of 25 you left your country to go work in a more prosperous country to be able to support, not only your new family but extended family as well. Weekly, you western union to home a large portion of your earnings. You must be satisfied with only an occasional phone call to a nearby neighbor of your family, (sometimes a family member would be there) because your family had no phone. Once or twice a year you take a long bus trip back to your country to make sure your affairs are in order and the family is ok.
Now imagine that you were 25 a full 20 years ago and the same state of affairs still exists!
During the last 20 years-your spouse has died, your parents who took over the job of raising your children have reached their 80's and are now in very poor health, your children are in their early 20's with the exception of the one boy (18 yrs) who was conceived on one of the trips home and born nine months later, your daughter has contracted a serious stomach, heart or lung (???) disorder which the doctors in your country cannot diagnose, and just last week your youngest son was in a serious car wreck and is hospitalized.
To top all this off, these past 20 years you have been working in the same place, almost exclusively. The boss is generous at heart yet a very thrifty man because of his depression time upbringing. The job has taught you many skills making you a "jack of all trades," so to speak. This also means that the job requires both
the detailed skills of an electrician and the hard labor of a trench digger. You are THE maintenance person for an entire community of approximately 20 families and an RV Park on 200 acres, owned by your boss. Your only friends are different ones over the years who have lived here and gotten to know you.
You still don't have a command of the language of this country where you live but you have managed to get a little spoiled by the comparative decadence of it. At first you lived in a small modest shack that you built on your employers property along with at least one, if not all of your 4 brothers who also worked, off and on, for the same man. A few years ago there was a big flood which destroyed that home and most of what little you owned and you moved into a 20 ft, yes, I said 20 ft, motor home that was manufactured in the 70's. Usually only one brother stays with you now. Need I go on?
This man and I have worked for the same company owner for the past 20 years. Now that the owner has retired and I've been taking care of the business for him I have gotten to really know this man of whom I write. Tomas just turned 46 this month. Still having so many ties to his homeland, Mexico, he's retained much of it's cultural customs and attitudes while at the same time getting accustomed to some of America's "luxuries." Sometimes we frustrate each other but over all we understand each other pretty well. He's gone right now, visiting his son who had the accident. My prayers are with them. Whenever he leaves to visit home I am reminded of how difficult it must be for him to be so far from family and his roots. It would be impossible for me. This Phenomenon, somewhat common in the South, especially in borden towns, was difficult for me to fathom when I first moved here 20 years ago. I am very much missing his expertise in his absence. I take this opportunity to applaud his courage, endurance and sense of duty to his family which I very much admire.

A Texan Feast

For dinner tonight we are serving a spinach salad with homemade ranch dressing and tenderloin from a "corn fed" year old doe, basted with real butter and our secret dry rub "kissed" on an open flame for 2 minutes 15 seconds each side, to perfection I might add. Bon Appetite!
Yep, Isn't your mouth watering. This culinary feast would be compliments of TT and LC.
By the way LC, "little cowboy" will here to for be referred to as MC, "Midnight Cowboy" to account for his new custom of coming home during that ungodly hour. Seventeen, as you might remember is that magical age when you suddenly incur all possible knowledge, (at least more than your parents could ever have,) and furthermore the age when the midnight hour is the BEGINNING of the evening. Needless to say some more explicit rules have been set, to the great disappointment of MC. Fortunately, to date, his record has continued to give us every reason to trust in his judgement. Unfortunately, we can't sleep if he's not safe in bed. Guess we'll keep him, especially since he's bringin' home some of the bacon/venison/fish.

Spring List Friday

"So this week's List Friday will be two-fold:Please list the words you love that bring Spring to mind. Then list the words that you are happy to leave behind as the season changes. Ten of each if you can, or however many you can muster."
The Pomegranate Challenge of the week.
So, here goes...
The winter words
Some of these I'm happy to leave behind each year but some evoke a myriad of good feeling and memories, and yes, roll off the tongue like a Spanish "r."
First, the ones I'm happy to see take a hiatus:

• Hibernate, the practice of the gopher, bear, frog, snake and bat. Although I don't miss the snakes or bats, the word sounds like something immoral
• Blizzard, another harsh word with even a cold, windy sound to it.
• Bleak, a cold, gray sky, offering no hope, chasing away all warmth by it's chill air.

Here are some winter words I like the sound and feel of:

• Persephone, the greek mythical goddess partially responsible, so the myth goes, for the creation of Winter. Her name just flows with delicious smoothness.
• Fireplace, a common compound word, but reminicent of so much warmth. Always a treat, the fire it holds is a center of many a memory of mine.
• Wassail, An Old English ceremonial cider, warm and sweet/tart. It's etymology stems from an old saying rendered "Good Health," and imbibers of the sweet juice would hail "Wais Heal" (think I spelled it close to right) as a toast to their companions. An odd word but strangely soothing like it's sensation while desending your throat. Good with a little dark rum.

Now that those are done with, forthwith the spring words, pregnant with a feel of fresh, light heartedness. First there's a borrowed word from our forest friend Bambi...

• Twiterpated, such a fun word to say. Bambi's friend, the wise owl says that it's the state of creatures of the opposite sex when the spring rolls around. A sensual playfulness which causes all else to pale in significance but the pursuing of an attractive, flirtatious mate.
• Narcissus. Daffodill type flower, full of myth and unrequited love. Based on the grek mythological youth who pined away for love of his own image reflected in a pool and was transformed into a flower. They don't last long but a such a harbinger of spring they're impossible not to love.
• Cicada, with an acsent over the first a. a pretty ugly bug with a soft name and a shrill, droning sound that sometimes gets so loud when the weather is humid, that you can hear nothing else.
• Vernal (Spring)Equinox and Summer Solstice both sound unusual. I can't figure out why I like their sound, but I do.
• Printemps, a french word meaning spring or spring time. I love french sounds, gutteral yet appealing. One of my favorite dishes is Fetuccini Printemps, filled with spring veggies and color. And finally,
• Azure, as in skies. The word is so peaceful and halcyon, (another favorite sounding word) and conjures up a picturesque sky, with no end or cloud in sight.

Those are the words I like or dislike the SOUND of now here's some words that bring winter and spring to my little mind: (remember I live in TX)

Winter: (Jan and Feb)

• rodeo
• brown grass
• bare trees
• bonfires
• toasted marshmellows (smores)
• amaryllis
• blooming christmas cactus

Spring: March-April

• fragrance of blooming fruit trees
• scent of Lady Banksia (sp) roses
• millions of shades of green
• birds building nests
• Memorial of Christ's death (this yr. April 12) and the future hopes we have because of his sacrifice
• mountain laurel blooms (perfumey)
• the satisfaction of a garden renewed by bare hands
• the smell of dew on soil

The ONLY thing I don't like @ spring is pecan tree tassels. They stick onto everything and it takes the whole year to clean them up, then here it is tassel time again.

Looking forward to seeing all the other lists so I can savor them too.

The Project

Back in the old days when I was in school I never much got into projects...the essays, the poster board, the models, the science fair projects. But DQ and LC have a hard time keeping me off theirs. LC's latest project was career based. He had to choose a career and research it in every aspect...job description, benefits, salary, availability, training/education, etc. When he first told me about it I wasn't enthused to participate. He'd chosen agricultural engineering technician. What's that?? When you live in TX it's pretty common to belong to FFA, (future farmers of america)take forestry or equine science or ag mechanics in high school. LC doesn't do the FFA thing, showing your hogs, cows or sheep at the rodeo or state fairs, but he does like ag stuff. So his choice wasn't a big surprize.
I found out that I missed my calling. I want to design farm machinery and solve conservation problems and be able to fix my tractor. I could also save the forests, make food safer for consumption and invent a new kind of sprinkler for crops. Anyway, it was lots of fun and very educational to assist on the project. Unfortunately, I think LC was about as excited as I was at his age, faced with a dreaded project.
But thanks to computers and the internet...here it is complete with charts and graphs. All in a (50 yr old moms) days work.

"THE ESSAY COVER"

Show & Tell Lamps

My lamps are all pretty humdrum so I decided to pick out a couple unusual ones I have. This first one I call Psychedelic. A little hard to see it in the photo but these blue tentacles emanate from the center untill you put your hand near the globe. Then all the tentacles gather toward your touch. Looks like a relic from my hippie days.

This other was a gift from a neat older woman (85 yrs old.) In case you couldn't guess, she likes bright colors. It doesn't really fit my decor but I like it in spite of that, or maybe because of that.

Our camera is with TT at work so I can't take any more pics but I also have one of the ever (used to be) popular Lava lamps.

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.