Just Another Saturday On Crazy Street

I decided I wouldn't put up a Christmas tree this year. In years past, I have worked myself silly decorating, baking, and trying to make the perfect little Christmas home sweet home for the kids, and they never seemed to care one way or another. This year, because of studies and work the kids are not coming home, so I figured it's pointless. We will invade their homes instead.

It's kind of a relief, after trying so hard to make everything the same, when nothing is the same, since Lauren died. I can relax and just see what happens. If Ive learned anything from this, it's you can't buy enough gifts or even drink enough mimosas and eggnog to fill the void left by a child who is no longer with you on Christmas morning.

Anyway, I thought I would decorate a little, you know, just a few things, but no tree. I worked very hard Saturday, had a huge mess, and was not even close to being through when I heard Jon calling for help. He said Mia, our pekingese, was out of the yard and he couldn't catch her. She runs from him because he gives her a bath whenever he can catch her. So I went out and called her and, of course she came running because I'm her momma and she loves me. Then Jon opened the gate to let her in and Darnell ran out, so she took off after him. They ran and ran, and Jon and I ran and ran, while the neighbors laughed and laughed. Almost catching her once, I lunged, lost my balance and fell face first into a pile of leaves. Jon finally caught Darnell and gave him to me. After several more minutes of chasing Mia, I pinned her to the ground while still holding Darnell. After rolling around in all the dead dry grass my chest felt a little funny and it was hard to breath. Walking back to the house Mia was having a little asthma attack and I was very worried about her. I gave her some Benedryl and took a little myself, but I only got worse. I hadn't had an asthma attack in such a long time, I didn't know what was happening, then I thought I was going to die. By that time, there was a football game on television and I had completely lost Jon's attention. He asked if I was alright a time or two, but with his eyes on the TV, he couldn't see my face turning blue as I tried to get enough air in my lungs to say "No, I'm dying!"

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why football should be banned from television.

An Idle Mind In The Wilderness

Jon and I spent the weekend in the mountains at a bed and breakfast. He wanted to take a few pictures and I thought I would enjoy the solitude. I was wrong. Solitude is lonely. It's especially lonely when there is no TV.

The bed and breakfast was a lovely old cabin with a claw foot tub and wood burning stove and, as I said before, no TV. I knew this in advance and thought about taking my guitar, but decided against it. I also thought I might take a book to read, but the one I picked out was a little depressing, so I left it at home.

The woman who owned the place had several jazz and classical Cd's, so that kept me busy for a while. She also had a lot of weird new age music, as well as some kind of tribal stuff. I think this lady was a Buddhist.

I didn't get that from her music or the WWBD bracelet she was wearing. I was looking for a book to read, and she had Louis L'Amour and some horse stories, like Black Beauty, and, oh yeah, Buddha's Little Handbook! I looked around the room and saw several Buddhist books. This woman was a Buddhist Cowgirl!!

I didn't sleep well. I dreamed I was being forced to two step by a short fat man with Dale Evan's face. It was horrible.

The next morning, while strolling through her gardens, I saw many "graven images" of other Gods. I think perhaps, she was one of those people who, ( know that if you could see me right now, I would be making air quotes as I say this ) respects all religions. She even had a wind chime that was a cowboy on a horse and a star of David. He must have been the Frisco Kid. (To understand that last remark, you must have seen, The Frisco Kid, starring Gene Wilder and Harrison Ford, or refer back to my blog on July 11, 2010.)

All in all she was a sweet lady with a lovely B & B, which is for sale, by the way. It would be a good buy for someone looking to get into that business. Just a little sprucing up, maybe an exorcism or two and you would have a nice little place. Oh, and it comes with a horse.

No Tears (or itchy watery eyes) In Heaven

I went to a funeral today. Lisa, my sister's step daughter lost her long, hard fought battle with cancer.

As I sat there listening to the typically Baptist sermon, I started thinking about the flowers. The altar was covered with easel sprays, the kind you only see at funerals and horse races. How is it possible to make something as beautiful as flowers look so depressing?

My first experience with funeral flowers came when I was six and my grandfather died. Whenever I caught an adult crying, they would start telling me about how Grandpa was in heaven with Jesus and the angels. But everyone was terribly sad about it. I was walking around the living room smelling the flowers and suddenly came face to face with my grandpa. That's how I learned the tradition of old East Texas families keeping the body in the home. Chrysanthemums made me feel sad and ill at the same time for years after that.

When Lauren died, our house was so full of flowers I couldn't breath. I also couldn't stand to see them die, but just like all living things, they did.

I was thinking today during that funeral, when I die, I would like people to send balloons instead of flowers. I think they would be a more accurate depiction of the party I will be attending. After the funeral, my loved ones could give some balloons to the children. The rest, they could release and watch them float up to heaven just like my happy soul.

Thank You Rangers

Baseball is the most romantic sport in the world. There are books and movies on the subject. We use it as a metaphor and study it in history. Tell your most loved baseball story and your listener becomes misty eyed, remembering something from their own youth.
There are tall tales( Casey Jones ), ghost stories( Field of Dreams ), and love stories( The Natural ). There are legends and there are myths. I don't care who you are, you know a baseball tale.
Thank you, Texas Rangers for giving me the most fun I've ever had watching baseball. It's been a great season.

I would like to apologize for saying I wished San Francisco would slide into the ocean. I think I forgot for a moment I was a Christian and we are not supposed to wish ill will on others. We do, however, enjoy slaying Giants.

Let's Go Rangers!

A Rant

I'm starting to resent the 2010 baseball season. I was perfectly happy being the fan of the most lovable, yet flawed team in the country. The season ending in mid September was just fine with me. But suddenly, I find myself, here at the end of October, unable to sleep, my stomach in knots, watching my team get their butts kicked in the World Series.

Yes, it's been a great year. And yes, I have seen the Rangers play some great ballgames. But somehow, I long for those innocent days of low expectations. It was an easier time.

There are so many things I don't understand. How can a bullpen, praised by all the sports writers, suddenly look like a bunch of little leaguers? How can hitters, known for their strength and home run abilities, strike out or fly out more often than not? I just don't believe the Giants could possibly be a better team.

I keep remembering 2005 when the Houston Astros played in the World Series. They were swept in 4 games and my heart was broken, and they were really just my second favorite team. I was thinking, I cant remember who beat them. Who won the World Series that year? I don't care. I only care that Houston won the National League and got to play in the World Series.

Of course, I was not as bitter toward that team. I wasn't wishing for California to hurry up and slide into the ocean, like I am now. You know, that would solve their budget problems too. Can't you just see it? All those San Francisco fans, with their orange towels and fake black beards, knuckles turning white as they cling the edge of the world. Jon may be right. I may take these things to seriously.



The Rangers will be playing at home the next three games. I hope that makes a difference. Anyway, I refuse to give up on them until the fat lady sings. I just hope she's not singing the blues.

I Heart The Rangers!

The heavens shook over Texas last night. The sky roared like the ocean as thousands cheered and danced with joy. Living rooms were lit up with people hugging, high fiving and drunk dialing loved ones as champagne corks popped.

Dark highways lined with buses carrying weary players home from Friday night football games suddenly erupted as the news came over the radio.

So, this is what it feels like to see your team win.

Winning the American League championship was so much more than I had ever hoped for, before this year. I have always loved this team, win or loose, no matter what. But winning feels good. Winning the World Series has got to feel even better.

So, Let's go Rangers! Beat ( t b a )