Maintenance! What? No!

Yesterday, I ran some errands in Santa Fe. Wearing sandals that had black rubber foot beds resulted in the bottoms of my feet being…black. I decided to hop into the shower to clean them up, did my pedicure foot scrub, then soaked in the tub afterwards.



I’m “Kindled” up, reading a good story. ThatManILove is sleep on the bed, trying to catch up from late nights of solid customer meetings and entertainment. 


I hear something over and above the movie on the television. I think it’s TMIL talking to me, so I say, “What? Did you say something?”


And then I hear, “Maintenance!”


And then, “NO!”


I’m all, “WHAT?


“MAINTENANCE!”


“NOOO!”


“WHAT?”


And then I hear TMIL talking…supposedly to the maintenance man. Who had, by the way, transgressed into our hotel room.


Without our permission.  The bathroom door was open, but all he could possibly see is my feet.  (That's my story and I'm sticking to it.)


It seems someone’s tub was flooding the Old House restaurant downstairs. They were trying to Sherlock it out. Still not sure if it was ours.


But the manager came up, full of apologies, and comped us wine and cheese.


I would have been happy with a full-out mani/pedi; not to mention a new pair of sandals that don’t turn your feet black.


Just sayin’.


It’s never boring around here.

Paddywhack, Give a Dog A Bone...

Another week, another fundraiser - actually, two!  My event season is nearly over, and I’m so very glad.  Looking forward to breathing for a bit.

Yesterday, I kenneled Zanna in the house for the afternoon.  Zack’s pretty trustworthy, so I let him have the run of the house.  When I came home, Zack had gone to the bone box, retrieved several bones, and placed them at the door of Zanna’s kennel.

Isn’t that sweet?

Y’all have a blessed day!

(Screeching to a stop!) Here I Am!

It’s been two weeks since I’ve written anything?  That’s crazy, but so is mi vida loca.  

ThatManILove is pretty much staying non-stop out in the field.  He’ll start to complete a well, then get to the end of the completion, which calls for 24-7 out there.  It’s not unusual for him to leave on Monday, and not come home until Saturday night.  When he does get home, it’s sleep, sleep, sleep.  But it’s sure good to see him when he does come home!  

Life is hard in the oilpatch.  You have to work when you can, and I’m glad for the work.  ThatManILove loves what he does, but it’s very intense, high profile work at times.  And it plays hell on our social lives.  We can’t plan anything ahead, nor have we been able to for a long time.  Sometimes our friends don’t understand, unless they are in the oilfield. Those understand full well.  It’s a miracle if ThatManILove and I get to go catch a 1 1/2 hr movie, much less a meal together.  I never know when he’s going to get to come home - I just know when he does get home, he needs to rest.  I bet he’s averaging less than 20 hours home per week.

And then you add in the ups and downs of my life.  Meetings.  Travel.  Events.  As part of my job, I entertain quite frequently, oftentimes at restaurants for dinner dates.  And lots of times, my customers and their spouses drink.  I’m good with that, because I rarely drink.  Don’t like the taste of alcohol, as a whole.  Every once in a while, maybe a peach bellini.  And that makes for one good designated driver!  We do have fun, though, while getting business accomplished.  I love my job.

I do miss ThatManILove going on dinner dates with my customers and I.  He’s so much fun, and so knowledgeable.  And my customers miss him as well.  One night a couple of years ago, ThatManILove and I picked up one of my customers at his hotel.  I've known this customer for about 4 years, see him weekly, and consider him a friend.  He got in the back seat,  I introduced him to TMIL, and we trucked on to the restaurant.  We were almost at the restaurant when my customer actually realized that TMIL was my husband and not just one of my coworkers.  He said, “Oh!  You really DO exist!”  We all laughed...that’s just the way it is in this season of our lives.

Just spent the week in San Antonio, on the Riverwalk, no less.  In meetings.  It was fun, got to meet new people, and got a lot of things accomplished.  Hot.  Humid.  But fun.

Flying back, my plane was delayed.  That’s the first time in a long time good ol’ Southwest has made me late, so I certainly cannot whine about that.  I love me some SWA.

Aside:  (My husband’s alarm just went off, and it’s 4:00 a.m. His morning report is due by 5:30 a.m.  What does that say about his vida loca? )

I think I’ll try to catch a couple more hours sleep - I have to go help with a fundraiser event on this beautiful Saturday morning.    Y’all have a blessed weekend!

Kids Rock

This past weekend was crazy, but so much fun.

On Saturday, I ran to Big Spring to attend my grand-niece’s 4th birthday. It was SO much fun! She’s off the wall smart, and so much fun to be around! She’s definitely a girly-girl at heart, so her presents consisted of many different things…but her favorite? A remote controlled…..wait for it…yup, tarantula. Check out the picture. This girly cracks me up.

And then, I took "almost 1 year old" pix for a friend of a friend.  Isn't this one too sweet?

Saturday afternoon, our friend and godchild flew in from DFW, and surprised ThatManILove. He was so excited when he opened the car door, ostensibly to “help me haul things in”, and saw baby Ada Jael and her mom, True! (We had the window shades up so he couldn’t see them as he approached the vehicle.)

We have had the best time hanging with these two little ladies. True was raised in this area, so we just opened our house up, and friends filled the house. It was a joy to see everyone, and some even brought their own babies and little ones, making the weekend even more of a blessing!  Everybody fell in love with Baby Ada, and all of the little munchkins visiting.  Like this one...gorgeous!

And Zack?  Well, Zack fell in love with Baby Ada, too.

Genghis Grill Review...

ThatManILove and I tried Genghis Grill tonight. It was crowded, and loud, and we arrived at a later hour. We waited about 15 minutes for a table, but used the wait to visit with some friends.


We were shown to a table, and introduced to our waitress, Miravelle. She explained the drill to us, and escorted us to the food line, where we picked our veggies, meat, and starch, then dropped it off at the grill for cooking.

When the bowls arrived at our table, with our cooked food, the taste was delightful. Meanwhile, the clamor had subsided, and we were able to enjoy a great supper.  TMIL ordered the white fish, and I stuck with mostly veggies.  Good stuff, maynard.  Good stuff.

It wasn’t as quick and efficient as say, PeiWei, or one of those larger chains, but it will do.

If you go visit, ask for server Miravelle. She’s awesome. And we will return.

Vamos Por La Casa!

Wanna know what love is?



Love is stopping at a hotel for the night when you’re less than 2 hours away from your house, but you’re too tired to stay awake driving at midnight. And besides that, you know ThatManILove wants you to be safe. Even if you get the last room at the hotel, there is no parking, and the cowboys, their women and their munchkins are still partying in the breakfast room.


And your eldest son is coming through the same town and wants to see you.


At midnight-thirty.


And his truck trailer loaded with horses is too big to go around the hotel parking lot, so you have to get in your truck and go meet he and his girlfriend at the closest "big enough to turn that honking sucker around" parking lot.


And then you have so much fun visiting with them for thirty minutes that when you get back to the hotel, you’re wide awake.


Awake enough to check out and drive the two hours home at 1:30 a.m.


But you...don’t. You go back to your hotel room and go to sleep.


Yup.  That, people, is love.

Foxy Foxy Foxy....

Once last week, and twice this week, I’ve spotted a male gray fox in our neighborhood.  He’s a sneaky boy, and crosses the street about three doors down (surely you didn't think he'd hang around my house with the Hunter Wonderdogs, did ya?) around 6:40 a.m. each morning.  And I'm curious.  I want to see where he lives, what he’s doing, and who he’s helping to feed.  I know there has to be a mommy fox and some babies around.  I know, because this is a yearly saga at the house of the Snooty Primadona where  the foxes Fernando and Felicia hang out. With all their cute babies, I must say. 

I guess I could get one of those infrared body heat cameras that hunters post at their deer feeders.

But then again, no.  I really don’t wanna know what goes on in my neighborhood after a certain hour.  Just bury my head in the sand, baby.  And call me Ostrich.

How Sweet It Is

This weekend, we visited a local eatery, Pizzeria Venti. We’re friends with the owners, who joined us for supper along with another friend.



When the night was over, we came back to the house, and our friend decided to camp out in our guest bedroom, as she and ThatManILove had been test-driving the wine.  I was the designated driver, so all was good, since I rarely imbibe.


This friend of ours is quite musical, and loves to sing. She made some off comment about the guitars, and I said, “If you ask him, he’ll probably play.”


She did.


And he did.


We started out with some James Taylor (of course) and progressed into worship music. It was fun, and washing. And what a joy to hear our friend sing. Before the weekend was over, we even broke out my Korg keyboard and amp and let her at it. Sweet stuff.


Simple pleasures, people. Simple pleasures.

Help Me Make It Through The Night

Monday.

What a day.  My IT department pulled a password change that totally ripped out all my 5K plus contacts and left me whining.  Sniveling.  Pleading.  People, I cannot do business the way I do business without those contacts.

Yes, I have a copy.  No, it will not import without a password - never mind that it’s never had a password.  So we had to sic the password cracker on it.  But he’s in a meeting.  And won’t be able to attack it until 7 a.m. tomorrow.  And I will be waiting at the office for him to sneak into my computer so we may labor together until my contacts are in their rightful place.

Tuesday

I walk in my door, 6 ish, to find my a/c is history.  No workie.  Hormonal woman, 100 degrees outside, 150 inside.  Well, at least, that’s what it feels like. My normal A/C guy can’t come until tomorrow.  I call another, who gets to the house at 10:30, opens my A/C, and says - something’s come loose.  Your motor’s fried.  And off he goes, out the door, with the last hope I have of being anywhere near cool tonight.

All the hotels are booked.  

My dogs are panting.  I’m sweating.  

Menopausal women and heat do not mix, people.

All I can say is “C’mon, 7 a.m. - at least I’ll be in a cool office.”

Shower The People You Love With Love...

Remember the last time I wrote?  And said ThatManILove was stuck on a well?  He’s still stuck on a well. No sleep.  Hasn’t seen a hotel room in a couple of days.  

So instead of telling you all the cool things we’ve experienced together this week, I’ll tell you what I saw today at the 4H Larry Ratheal Memorial Benefit shoot.

I saw 7 people, me being one of them, shoot together on a squad and have fun.  It was hot.  There was very little breeze.  But people, we had fun.

I saw two dads work with their respective sons while they shot their shotguns. Both dads were overjoyed at their sons’ successes.  This was the first tourney for either boy, and they both rocked the Casbah.  Just saying.

I love seeing young people excel at whatever they pursue.

It’s very encouraging.

More than that, I love seeing fathers....be...fathers.

Just A Little More Time

ThatManILove came home late yesterday afternoon after working 36 hours in the field at one fell swoop.  He was exhausted.

He’s been leaving here around 4 a.m. on Monday mornings, and heading 2.5 hours away to work in the oilfield.  He’s on location most days by 6:30 or 7, then making it to the hotel around 11 at night.  He’s not getting much sleep, after doing reports, etc.

And then, when ThatManILove comes home, there’s always something to do around the house.  We’re unable to see our friends much, because we barely have any time together - usually less than two days.  We’re close to getting finished with the remodel on the house. Maybe then, he will be able to come home and just rest and relax.

Someday soon.

Someday, soon.

Stop the Insanity Already!

I’ve figured out what I’m going to do the next time Zanna the WonderDog goes into heat.

I’m getting a new, larger crate.  I’m going to line it with the best memory foam mattress, and it’s going to be plush.

And then, I’m crawling in, and locking the gate.  And I’m not coming out for Three. Whole. Weeks.

Okay, not really.

We’ve come to the decision that it’s time to spay her.  (As Janie does the Happy Dance!)  We’d love to have one of her pups; however, weighing a litter of champion bloodline GSP’s vs. all the rescue dogs needing homes just does not compute.

We love dogs.  I wish every rescue dog would find a home.  And we’re just not going to contribute to the overpopulation issue.

Final answer.

Therapist for $200 (Okay, I love SNL)

Sunnnnyyyyyy beeeeeeaaaaaches.

It’s been one heck of a day.  Not even kidding. I could tell you about Elder Son missing the last flight to Wyoming….no.  My breakfast order or 20 people, cancelling on me less than 30 minutes prior to delivery?  Nah.  Okay, I think I’ll tell you about my contractor subcontractor’s mishap…not even.  My customer lunch and learn cancelling?  Just a day in the life, right?

Okay.  Guess I’ll expound on the never boring adventures of the WonderDogs. 

This morning, I’m getting ready, out of the shower, about to dry my hair.  It’s about 6:20 a.m. The dogs ask to go out.   As is our norm, I go out to the “almost oasis” of a back yard.  (I love it in the morning!)  I sit down on the porch, grab a water bottle, settle down to enjoy the beautiful morning, and let them do their business.

 I’m soon to discover that it’s not to be that kind of morning.  Zanna’s in the last stages of her heat cycle.  ThatManILove and I have been in some serious discussions this week as to whether or not to breed Zanna, or to get her fixed. Let me take one second to note that TMIL has NOT been in town except on weekends during the last three weeks.   I’ve been dealing with this heat cycle, the diapers, the panties, all that drill.  It’s making me crazy.  ThatManILove doesn’t want her stout championed bloodline to end; I, on the other hand, could care less about menstrual cycles any more, much less my Zanna’s.   Whatever romantic vision I had about being an awesome breeder of champion German Shorthairs has this very week faded away in a fluff of shredded cotton and denim.  Zanna’s gone through more panty liners, doggie diapers, and puppy panties in three weeks than any woman I’ve ever known (however, that may be because most women I know don’t eat their sanitary products).  I’m ready to put this madness to an end.  Zack’s interest in her is at…well, let’s just say he’s peaked this morning.  I’m not worried, though, because 3 years ago, we made him a sports model.  Yup, we had him fixed.

I’m relaxing, drinking a glass of water, and all of a sudden, Zack starts acting kind of aggressive towards Zanna.  And she’s, ummm….letting him.  The little wench is even coming on to him.  She’s flirting.  And before I can say “You don’t have the stuff anymore, cowboy, don’t even think about it!” , Zack has mounted Zanna.  Oh, yes, he has. You’ve heard “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up?”  Well, he’s mounted,  and he can’t get down.  Or she can’t get loose.  Or something.

I scream at him.  Totally ineffective.

I run get the water hose.  Same result.

I call ThatManILove.  He doesn’t answer his cellphone.

So, I do what most warm-blooded over-intelligent females who are seeking answers to such a dilemma do.  I run to the door, go inside, shut the back door so I don’t have to watch them do the dirty deed anymore, and go ask Mr. Google what the heck to do.

Turns out the first two things, screaming and water, only make situations such as this, worse.  (Don’t say I never taught you anything.)

After I read the article twice, I decide to venture to the back door to peek out and see how things are hanging.  Whew!  They’re apart.  Zanna’s giving me that, “Gee thanks, oh you human protector of all four legged things  – you suck at this” look.  I, in turn, am glaring at Zack, thinking, “You RAPIST!”  I hustle them both into the house and kennel Zanna, pronto.

Then, and only then, does ThatManILove call.

“Hey, babe, did you need something?”

“Ummm, yeah, well, I did…but it’s all good now.  Zack mounted Zanna.”

“What? He can’t do that.”

“Oh, yes he can, and he did.  I was an eyewitness.  And they got stuck.”

“What?  Are you sure?  I don’t think Zack can do anything.”

“I am not even gonna repeat it. Zanna’s been violated. Maybe even drugged.” 

Silence.

And then I can hear him.  He’s giggling.  And then he starts laughing.

And that just pisses me off more.

“When did we get Zack fixed?”  Yup.  Still giggling.

And we figure it out. Two years ago.

And you know what he said to me then?

“Don’t worry baby.  Semen doesn’t have that kind of shelf life.”

I Knew You...

In the last week, ThatManILove and I have been not only blessed with a goddaughter, but I also was blessed, and honored, to attend her birth. Mom’s rocking as a new first time mother, and grandmother is right by, fiercely watching over the already strong bond of mother and child. What an absolutely beautiful thing to observe! And yeah, I’d forgotten what joy new babies bring. Just by the very act of holding baby Ada Jael , I am renewed. Refreshed. All is okay in my world, even the funky stuff.

Why is that?

Whenever I see a new baby, I hear the scripture Jeremiah 1:5: “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you. Before you were born, I set you apart for my holy purpose.”

A baby represents many things to me: Promise. Hope, for the times to come, and also, this next generation. A child is open, and full of wonder. Not one bit jaded, and most always delighted. Trusting. Loving. Never judging, just accepting you as you are.

So should we be.

I beg you - the next time you see a little one, take a second to let that baby envelop you. Let yourself be refreshed. Renewed.

You’ll smile, I promise. You’ll feel the love. And you’ll be more able to give out love, yourself.


Meet Baby Ada Jael. Does the word goddaughter translate to spoiled? If it didn’t before, it will now. And you know, I think her mommy’s totally okay with that.

Three Generations of Love (photo by Janie)

The Lackawanna Railroad Has Run Me Over

I want to write.  I’m good at it.  It comes naturally.

Yet, when push comes to shove, I don’t want to write.  I don’t seem to have the energy.  Work takes up so much, and events take up so much, and you know, just life takes up so much.   (And, you know, you gotta figure in the Facebook factor.  I'm on there like twice a day - once early in the morning if I have time, and once late at night. ) What the hell’s up with that?  Yet I feel so much better when I write.  Maybe I’ll force it, just for today.

My life is good.  My man is good.  We have faith in God. We have our health. We’re both losing weight.  We have very few bills. We both have work.  Our kids are okay and one may be  actually seriously finding his way, hallelujah!  They’re both healthy, happy, and vibrant. They’re both seriously talented.  And they’re both funnier than anyone I’ve seen in a long time.

Our dogs are hilarious.  Time-consuming.  Costly.  I’ve not taken them hunting since the emergency appendectomy in February, and I’m mad at myself for that.

ThatManILove is busy again, which he loves.  The only bad thing about it is that the work is out of town.  He leaves around 4 a.m. on Monday and gets home late Friday or Saturday.  Work is good.  We usually do well, together or apart, because we talk on the phone daily, and you know, life is what it is.  However, time apart isn’t necessarily good for us at this exact right now minute, because we have things to do and decisions to make.

Our house is still in disarray from the last flood a month ago.  And all the things we decide together concerning our house, well, those decisions are probably going to fall to me. We’ve decided that while everything’s torn up that the time is now to install the french doors going out to the courtyard.  The courtyard, that for now, anyway, is back to pure dirt since we had to tear it out again to get to the offensive damaged sprinkler pipe that flooded our house.

So, if one thing truly leads to another, we have to wait on (1) specially ordered french doors and (2) a new front door and back door and (3) the contractor who’s going to do the work and (4) the adjustment on the ruined rugs and (5) the french door install before we can (6) paint.  (And ThatManILove wants to be here when all of this goes down.  Hmmm.  That translates to:  isn’t going to happen anytime soon, Cowgirl.)

And I don’t even have a clue when the (7) granite that we ordered before the flood will be installed and even if (8) we can raise the cabinets a little bit like I want done and what about (9) the specially made cabinet door that cracked due to the dehumidification of the house that had to happen to dry out the damaged walls from the flood? Much less what are we going to utilize for (10) backsplash, and who’s going to put that in?

The yard, both front and back, and all the cool flowers Susan and Monica have planted, looks beautiful and gives me tons of peace.  Even if the (11) pergola isn’t finished, it’s beautiful at whatever stage.  Even in the recent rain, you could find me sitting out there, just breathing in the air and enjoying the scenery.  Oh, yeah, baby, it’s gorgeous.

At this point, I could care less about (99) remodeling our bedroom, which was JOB ONE a couple of months ago.

Did I tell you we have to have a new (12) roof, as well?  Oh, yes, we do.  Frikkedy frakkidy hail storms...

I might take up the habit of alcohol.

Instead, I think I’ll take the Wonderdogs to the Dog Park.  Hope it’s not too muddy...but if it is, we'll deal.

For The Sake Of Grandchildren

ThatManILove is out of town this week.  And I have our Little Brother and his little brother for the week, as their mom’s gone to a teacher conference in DFW.

After I dropped the boys at their respective venues, I called ThatManILove.  Here’s how that conversation went:

Me:  I’m enjoying these boys.  I miss when Brody was little, taking him to school, doing the breakfast thing, hanging out.

TMIL:  Well, we could always adopt a couple more kiddos.

Me:  Right.  And you’d come in the door one day, and, like you did with Zanna the Wonderpup,  say, “Jane.  Do you realize we’ve just signed on for a 13 year commitment with this pup?” ; except we know now the commitment would be 30 years plus!

TMIL:  Yeah, I guess you’re right.  But, babe - look at it this way– we might be a little closer to having grandkids if we went ahead and adopted children now and raised them up.

Me:  The way our boys are going, you’re probably right!

Not The Talk! ANYTHING But The Talk!!!

This week, Little Brother Geoffrey and his real little brother are staying with me while their mom attends a teacher conference in Fort Worth.  So far, so good. 

I say that because kiddos in your house, especially those that aren’t yours, are a different animal entirely.  Your own kids are raised and on their own and are out and about.  The empty nest syndrome is really, after all, a relief.  And then all of a sudden, you have an 11 year old and a 14 year old for the week.  And you can't give them back to their mom when she's 5 hours away for a week.

This afternoon brought it all home for me, via a simple text message.  I’m heading to pick Geoffrey up from his summer gifted/talented program.

Geoffrey:  Guess who got a girlfriend.  BTW, the bus is about to leave (Odessa).

Me:  You better be on it, and aloooonnnnnneeeee.

Geoffrey:  Ohno I missed it......(then this long drill down of multiple spaces)....JK.

Geoffrey:  She lives in Odessa.  Yeah, and I don’t think they would allow that.

Then, a pause.

Geoffrey:  Are you almost here?

Me:  On the way.

Geoffrey:  Am I gonna get "the talk"?

Oh, Lordy, I lost it.

Me, to him: Not on your best day, son.  Not even on your best day.  Mebbe so.

He cracks me up.

Where's That Energizer Bunny When I Need Him?

It’s been a busy month around our place.  The Backyard Project is moving along rather slowly - but it’s looking good.  My friends Susan and Monica have already placed new perennials and some annuals in the front flowerbeds, and they look beautiful.  I love love love LIVE flowers.

ThatManILove is working out in the field again, and he’s loving it out there.  The time off was treasured, as well, because he was able to take care of lots of things we’d been putting off.  I enjoyed having him around the house, and he was able to travel with me on business trips.  I miss him not being here every day and night.

Our API committee just finished hosting our umpteenth annual Scholarship Golf tournament. (I seriously do not know how long this tournament has been in existence - I do know that this is my 23rd year to work it.) We had 504 players, 2 days, 2 courses, plenty of cookers and game holes, ice cream, and fellowship.  Some of our scholarship recipients came and worked the tourney, and were just delightful to be around.  On Saturday, we played and worked in 110 degree heat.

I could describe that in a myriad of ways, but let me just say I’m glad it is over, and grateful it was such a success.  You have to have a committee, a team, to help dot every i and cross every t and drive that big ol’ bus.  There is a ton of delegation, a ton of hugs, a ton of sweat.  You gotta have sponsors.  You gotta have players.  And you have to have support on the course, not only with the golf course staff, but also, in the form of cookers, games, ice cream, water, and beer and all the people that make that stuff magically appear.  And it all has to flow seamlessly.  We received tons of compliments, and appreciation for all the hard work. 

The immediate winners are the students who benefit from the scholarships.   Some of them have just graduated high school.  Some have left college, started families, and have gone back to college.

The ultimate winners, however, are you and I.  We have not had one student fall out.  We’ve seen students hit a bump, then get back on the trail.  Many of them have graduated with honors, and are now working alongside us in the oil industry.  Some of them have gone on to be lawyers - doctors - accountants.

They are our future.  

And these students - each and every one of them -  make it all worthwhile.

Even in 110 degree heat.

Saturday! Saturday! Saturday, Saturday!

The long weekend is finally here. Memorial Day.  The day we honor those who serve us, and who have served us.  I'm so thankful for our military, and for my relatives who have served and honored all of us in the United States.  Please remember them this weekend as you trek around.

It's a good thing it's a long weekend, because I'm exhausted.  ThatManILove got home from the field, and that's awesome.

And this morning, ThatManILove's talking we have to go pick out a new sink (to go with the new granite for the kitchen)....and new outside furniture (to go with all the new backyard remodel).

Dude! Honey, I have things to do.  I have to finish the entries for the mega 540 golf tournament stuff and hand it back over to my friend so we can get on with the rest of the duties to get this 2 day, 2 course extravanganza pulled off next weekend.

And I have to go run around with my new friend Melissa who's moving in from Tulsa, and looking for houses.  And I have to go take pictures for more friends sometime this weekend.  We could go to GlenRose and watch Elder Son rope?  Nahhhhhh.  Too far....

And, by the way, did I tell you that I promised you'd put that awesome burn on some salmon this weekend for Melissa and her step-mom?  We gotta show some of that famous Texas hospitality, even though you've torn half of our countertops down and the rest is still in that are we ever gonna freakin' finish this remodel slightly undone state.  It'll be okay, honey.  I promise.

And honey?  Call me after you get your haircut.  I'll meet you wherever.  It'll be fun!

Update...(Can You Still Put Them Up For Adoption After 20?)

Elder Son is doing better - he's mobilized, he's up and going, and already horseback again.  I sent him a text to see what he was doing and here's how it went:

Me:  What are you doing?

ES:  Riding a bronc...he's as hard headed as me.

Me: (Oh.My.God.Does.He.Have.A.Working.Brain.Cell.??) And your leg?

ES:  It hurts but what's new?

Me: (I swear he's going to drive me to drink.) What about the doc?

ES:  Gonna be Tues or Thurs next week

I guess we'll know more then.  His Nanny got out of the hospital today, and will be recuperating at her daughter's house.  Thanks so much for your prayers, they are greatly appreciated.


As to the Younger Smartalecjustlikehisfather Son, after his last April Fool's joke - prank - I thought his dad was going to kill him Facebook event where he told the world he had just found out he was going to be  a father, he is breathing.  I swear.  I saw him.  Yesterday, he changed his FB status to "single".  I couldn't resist, I had to do it.  I posted:  "But what about the BABYYYYY?"  Soon after, one of his friends jumped in: "Oh, did your beer break up with you?  how sad."  


How did that song go? "I believe the children are our future...teach them well and they will lead the way..."  RUN! RUN!!!!!!

And now, for an update on the backyard....FINALLY, things are moving along!  Artificial turf and sealing of flagstone this week...and then, in come the plants.  The pergola is now framed out, and over the next week we'll probably see it come to "be."


Happy Memorial Day weekend!