Long Hollow

A Rich Inheritance (Happy Father’s Day!)

June 16, 2013

Friday my mother thought Daddy was having a stroke. She's seen enough of them to recognize the symptoms in him.

He wouldn't let her call an ambulance, so she called my sister, who in turn called me en route to their house.

The kids and I already had plans to leave early yesterday morning to celebrate Father's Day with Daddy. I hoped we wouldn't be visiting him in the hospital, instead.

With my sister's next call, the relief in her voice soothed my worries. Daddy's blood pressure had already dropped and he seemed okay. She would stick around a little while, but didn't see a need to call an ambulance. Thank you, Lord!

So yesterday we were able to celebrate Daddy with lunch at Applebee's, just as he requested, and then hang out with him and Mama in my childhood home, talking around the kitchen table, dozing in front of the television…

…and giving thanks every single second.

We'll head home early today so the kids can spend time with their dad, too.

I'm wishing Tom's Pop a happy Father's Day in my heart. I can still hear his voice echoing in my mind. I hope it never fades away.

My heart goes out to his sons who are missing him so much today, this first Father's Day without him, wishing they could give him a call and tell him "I love you".

So I'll give mine an extra hug and "I love you" for them, and for all of you who are missing your fathers today.

In honor of Father's Day, I gave Daddy a print-out of "Why I'm My Father's Daughter". I'm re-posting it here. I'm so honored that it was chosen for "Best Lessons from Dad" - a slideshow on Huffpost 50 of posts about fathers. Hop over there and see what other daughters had to say about their fathers.

If Daddy answers the phone when I call my parents, our conversation is a quick one.

"I can't talk," he'll complain.

"You sound fine to me," I'll tell him.

"What? I can't hear you. Here's your mother."

And that's that.

Strokes have taken their toll on his vocal chords. The effort to speak is too much for him and his voice gives out after just a few words. Perhaps his hearing loss can be blamed on strokes, too. (Although hearing aids could help with that. Sigh.)

But he was never one to talk much, anyway, and especially not on the phone. If I wanted or needed to talk, I went to my mother. I could talk to her about anything, and I'm very grateful for that.

Daddy and I communicated in other ways, though. We teased each other and toured old houses. We fought over who was going to mow the yard.

He chauffeured me and my friends to the movies and high school basketball games before I got my license. He taught me how to drive, and tried to teach me how to play golf and be a better bowler…without much luck.

Instead, I tagged along with him on the golf course, satisfied to watch him and admire the beauty of the courses. We took road trips to visit his mother, traveling along the back highways with the windows down, stopping often to visit historical sites or other interesting places that caught my eye or his.

We square-danced.

But words still formed our greatest connection. I was seven, maybe eight, when I uttered that inevitable childhood chant: "I'm bored."

"Bored? Here, read this," he said, handing me an old, mildewed copy ofBlack Beauty, "You'll never be bored again."

Well, I'm not sure if those were his exact words, but they should have been. I was hooked, and as long as I've had something handy to read (and I try to make sure I do), I've never been bored again.

Besides Anna Sewell's Black Beauty - and hence, every horse book I could get my hands on – Daddy got me hooked on historical fiction via James Michener and Leon Uris. It's still my first love.

He also introduced me to Leon Hale and his Texas-flavored, rambling, memoirish columns in the Houston Post (and then the Chronicle)…the inspiration for my own personal essays and blog posts, I'm sure. I still read his columns online.

Because of Daddy, I surround myself with books, and I'm partial to old ones.

I read our ancient copies of Black Beauty, Call of the Wild, Daddy-Long-Legs, and A Girl of the Limberlost over and over and over, and to this day the smell of a musty book takes me miles away in my mind to those stories.

When I enter an antique store, I head straight for the book section. Not to buy, necessarily, but just to breathe, feel, and say Hello, you're not forgotten.

Our house overflowed in paperbacks, too, though. Daddy always had one in his metal lunchbox, usually a Louis L'Amour, and when I followed in his steel-toed-shoe footsteps years later, I always carried a paperback with me to work.

Today neither of us consumes books like we used to. Daddy reads the morning newspaper, but then turns his attention to the television when he's not doing laundry or other household chores.

I'm always somewhere in a just-for-fun book, but it takes me forever to finish them, only cracking them open to read while I eat lunch. When I'm at home. And don't have something else I have to read.

But all of those books and words and voices still bind us, and despite the miles between us, and the words we cannot say, I feel him with me every time I open a book.

Thank you, Daddy.

Sometimes the poorest man leaves his children the richest inheritance.

~Ruth E. Renkel

Tom and I don't have a lot of money, yet we are blessed with riches, thanks to our fathers.

Happy Father's Day to all of you who fills the role of father to someone!
Five Things…

June 15, 2013

1.

Monday evening I went wading in Lake Travis. I had my camera and was shooting a fun multi-generational family while they ran and played and laughed. I took way too many photos and couldn't help editing as many as possible to share with them, to help them remember the fun they had that day with their parents/grandparents and sister/aunt visiting from Guatamala. You can see a lot of the photos in "Generations".

2.

I saw the movie "Mud" last night with some friends. I hadn't heard much about it, but it stars Matthew McConaughey, and one of my friends is madly in love with him. So I see a lot of Matthew movies.

In my opinion, this is one of his best. I enjoyed the movie so much that I wish it was based on a book so I could read it.

3.

For Christmas my oldest gave me and Tom gift certificates for massages.

But between working weekends at the winery and weekdays subbing in the schools as much as possible, I didn't have time for a massage.

Until today. I figured I should take advantage of this unemployed time off, even though I'd rather be working.

Oh, it felt so good! Sitting at this computer typing and editing photos takes its toll on my neck and back, and you can only imagine what staying on your feet for six or seven hours in a restaurant will do to you.

Thank you, Tommy!

If you live anywhere near Austin, or plan to visit, I recommend making an appointment with Ruth Ann Blackwell!

4.

INSECT WARNING!

Tom called me down to the laundry room earlier this week. When he does that, I know to bring my camera. Look who decided to visit us.

Since tarantulas aren't any help when it comes to laundry – in fact, they can be a downright hindrance – Tom escorted it back outside.

By the way, the herding above didn't work. It went skittering into the shelves. That's when I left and I'm not sure how Tom ended up catching it.

(At least I think he caught it….)

The other night this toad decided to visit us upstairs. Isn't he handsome? I mean, for a toad?

We can't figure out how these critters are getting inside, but I'd rather have a tarantula and a toad than those little mice who took such a liking to us. Ugh.

5.

Today is Flag Day, commemorating the day the American flag was adopted in 1777.

I swear I recently took a photo of the little faded flag flying on my parents' porch to post, but it's lost in a maze of files in my computer.

It's just one of those small ones on a wooden stick . They have it tucked into the metal porch supports and keep it up all year. I like that.

So instead of the flag, and since by the time I publish this it won't be Flag Day anymore, here's an old red Ford truck I spotted today. Not quite Old Glory, but an American icon at least.

Hope you have a wonderful weekend!
My Tiny Taste of BlogHer Food 2013

June 11, 2013

I am not a food blogger.

Oh, I may write about my Cyclops Cookies, Tom's better-than-Hooter's hot wings, and yummy sushi from Eddie V's, but they're mingled with my stories about dogs and mice and dancing and friendship.

I'll never be a niche blogger of any kind, because I could never make up my mind. Well, I do have my photography blog, but it's still all over the place, subject-wise.

So when BlogHer announced it was holding the BlogHer Food 2013 conference in Austin, I was more disappointed than excited. I've been wanting to go to a regular BlogHer conference ever since I heard about them, but they're always held in exotic far-off lands, like New York City, Los Angeles, and, later this summer, Chicago.

Even if I could afford the cost of the conference, the travel expenses make it impossible.

(Dang it, why didn't they send the food bloggers to Chicago and have the Big Deal in Austin?)

But BlogHer must have sensed my discontent. They actually opened up the closing party to outsiders like me for next to nothing. And because the closing party included live music, dancing, barbecue and one free drink at Stubbs BBQ downtown on a Saturday night…well, I couldn't pass up a bargain like that and the chance to get at least a taste of BlogHer Food 2013.

It wasn't until I was trying to figure out what to wear that it hit me: I was going to a party where I didn't know a soul and everyone else had been hanging out together all weekend.

Blah! But I decided to go anyway. I mean, I'd already bought the ticket. There was a plate of barbecue waiting at Stubbs with my name on it. I couldn't just abandon it.

So I went. It helped that there were several nametags waiting for other outsiders on the table where I checked in.

Until that night, I'd only seen four bloggers in person, period. I wasn't sure what I expected the food bloggers to look like, but I'll just say they didn't fit into any niche as far as appearance goes. No standard gender, age, size, or even taste in clothing. That helped me feel more comfortable right away.

I traded my drink ticket for a frozen strawberry sangria concoction, filled a plate with barbecue, and found an empty spot on a picnic table near a blonde lady who looked about my age.

I don't remember her name or where she was from, but we had a good conversation over the loud music. This had been her first BlogHer conference and she said all the freebies really balanced the cost of it all.

She left and young girl named Kayla who worked for one of the vendors sat down to eat. We had a good conversation, too, about trying to find jobs (she recently graduated) then she went back to work filling cookies with ice cream, and I wandered over to the photo booth where I met Sarah, who worked for the photo booth company sponsored by Ninja Kitchen.

When she found out I was from Austin and didn't know anyone (I tell my story to everyone I meet, of course) she wrote on a chalkboard and joined me in my photos.

I thought she was just feeling sorry for me, but when all of the photos were posted online, I saw quite a few people in photos by themselves.

I guess it was that Austin connection, after all, and not (just) pity!

The awesome music of The Grooves, an Austin cover band, lured me closer to the area near the stage. Small groups of ladies had finally started dancing so I just joined in.

(Would you believe I used to be shy? I know. It's hard for me to believe it, too.)

As much as I love dancing, I confess the highlight of my night was seeing Pioneer Woman. Yes, Ree Drummond, herself, stood just inches from me at one point. And my camera joined all the others snapping away while she was telling jokes onstage.

For you non-bloggers, PW is the Queen of the Bloggers, and not just food blogging! She has it all down: Home-schooling, Home and Beauty, Entertainment, Photography, Life on a Ranch in the Middle of Oklahoma Nowhere.

She's written a couple of cookbooks, a children's book, and a memoir. Probably a lot of other stuff, too. How the heck does she do it??? Yes, I'm terribly jealous, and that's what makes her a blogging Rock Star!

Finally, the last song was sung and danced to, I grabbed another bottle of water (They were free, thank goodness. Dancing on a hot, humid Texas night under the stars = sweat!) and headed to my car.

While I waited at an intersection, I chatted with a couple of Pedi-Cab drivers. And they agreed to have their picture taken even though I wasn't a potential customer.

(This one got distracted by an actual customer, but I took his photo anyway.)

I love Austin. Amen.
Sons, Sunday mornings, and other sweet!s

June 9, 2013

I'm not proud to admit this, but I missed church this morning because of the rain.

Right about the time Daniel and I were going to head out the door (Tom was still snoozing!) – already running late because we had to let the terrified dogs into the laundry room – the break in the unexpected morning storm disappeared and sheets of rain pelted the Hollow sideways like a firehose aimed right at us.

I pictured myself trying to scramble up our rock pathway in my heels and knew an umbrella would be no match for that storm. I'd be soaked in seconds even if I remained standing.

If I didn't have to go to work right after church…if we weren't already running ten or fifteen minutes late…

Anyway…instead of getting soaked, we went out on the deck with cups of coffee, gave thanks for the much-needed rain, and watched a little bird zip and flip and twirl through the air to catch tiny moths that drifted up from the ground.

I tried to capture his acrobatics with my camera, but no luck. Thank goodness he had mercy on me and posed on Tom's truck for a few seconds.

Anyone know what he is? We decided to just call him a Variegated Brown Moth-Eater. It sounded official enough.

Here are some other sweet! moments from my past week…

Sunday: fireflies; late-night chocolate chip pancakes, courtesy of your daughter; catching new things in Galaxy Quest that make you and your daughter laugh even though you've seen it a million times already

Monday: your son and husband making it back from Florida, safe and sound; being in the right place at the right time to be asked to (volunteer to) be in a commercial; Chuy's tortilla soup; not having a problem with eating in a restaurant alone; a stack of books from your mother-in-law, because she knows you love books

Tuesday: a friend who tries to get you a job, even if she's unsuccessful; virtual hugs when you're having a tough day; the right verse in your email to soothe your disappointment

Wednesday: waking up with a sense of peace after a dark day; watching your old puppy swim; a field of yellow

Thursday: one last cut and color with your stylist until you find a real job; a hug from your baby girl; getting up the nerve to apply for a job even when you know it's a long shot

Friday: a request to photograph a fun family; progress on your children's book; delicate wildflowers on your morning walk

Saturday: a morning at Laguna Gloria; great critiques; a swan, swimming and posing for you; a sweet card from a dear friend; your son fast-forwarding through parts of the Matrix so you can watch the awesome fight at the end before you have to leave; going somewhere even though you don't know a soul there; meeting new friends; dancing at Stubbs BBQ; seeing Pioneer Woman in person!

Sunday: spotting a blog friend's daughter on the Today show, singing at Princess Madeleine of Sweden's wedding; sitting on a covered porch during a thunderstorm with your son; a blue sky after a thunderstorm; a beef quesadilla for lunch before work, thanks to your son; a dog that imitates a meerkat; perfect guacamole…and you made it!

I hope your past week was full of sweet! moments, but you find more in the week ahead! Share them with me here!
Five Things on Friday

June 7, 2013

1.

Whew! I made it through May without a major random health issue.

Why is that surprising? Read "There's Something About May" to get the full story, but suffice it to say that I get a little paranoid beginning on May Day because in four of the past five Mays I've suffered from some weird, random illness or pain.

Shingles…heart palpitations…

You'd be nervous, too!

I'm grateful I got a break this year.

2.

photo from HERE, courtesy of Natural Bridge Wildlife Ranch

On May 10, twins Wasswa and Nakato were born in New Braunfels, Texas. They are the only living set of giraffe twins, and only the second documented case in the U.S.

They were born at the Natural Bridge Wildlife Ranch, which isn't that far from me, so…

Why haven't I gone to see those precious babies yet?

To see them in all their (digital) cuteness, go HERE or HERE.

3.

I've been spending a lot of time filling out job applications, trying to match my eclectic work experience to each position. It's creative writing (nonfiction – I'm not making anything up!) but not the kind I'd like to be working on.

4.

Speaking of trying to find a job, I've taken a vow: I won't visit my hair stylist or buy any wine until I have a steady paycheck.

(That should be enough incentive to keep me searching, don't you think?)

5.

I've been attacked…by poison ivy. I'm careful to wear long pants on my morning walks through the woods, so I'm suspecting a sneak attack via Belle, aka Cuddle Puppy.

It's itchy and ugly, but it won't make me stop Belle from snuggling up against me, or from my morning walks through the woods, where the Mountain Pinks are now blooming…

Linking up with A Rural Journal's Random 5 Friday
Why I’m My Father’s Daughter

June 6, 2013

If Daddy answers the phone when I call my parents, our conversation is a quick one.

"I can't talk," he'll complain.

"You sound fine to me," I'll tell him.

"What? I can't hear you. Here's your mother."

And that's that.

Strokes have taken their toll on his vocal chords. The effort to speak is too much for him and his voice gives out after just a few words. Perhaps his hearing loss can be blamed on strokes, too. (Although hearing aids could help with that. Sigh.)

But he was never one to talk much, anyway, and especially not on the phone. If I wanted or needed to talk, I went to my mother. I could talk to her about anything, and I'm very grateful for that.

Daddy and I communicated in other ways, though. We teased each other and toured old houses. We fought over who was going to mow the yard.

He chauffeured me and my friends to the movies and high school basketball games before I got my license. He taught me how to drive, and tried to teach me how to play golf and be a better bowler…without much luck.

Instead, I tagged along with him on the golf course, satisfied to watch him and admire the beauty of the courses. We took road trips to visit his mother, traveling along the back highways with the windows down, stopping often to visit historical sites or other interesting places that caught my eye or his.

We square-danced.

But words still formed our greatest connection. I was seven, maybe eight, when I uttered that inevitable childhood chant: "I'm bored."

"Bored? Here, read this," he said, handing me an old, mildewed copy of Black Beauty, "You'll never be bored again."

Well, I'm not sure if those were his exact words, but they should have been. I was hooked, and as long as I've had something handy to read (and I try to make sure I do), I've never been bored again.

Besides Anna Sewell's Black Beauty – and hence, every horse book I could get my hands on – Daddy got me hooked on historical fiction via James Michener and Leon Uris. It's still my first love.

He also introduced me to Leon Hale and his Texas-flavored, rambling, memoirish columns in the Houston Post (and then the Chronicle)…the inspiration for my own personal essays and blog posts, I'm sure. I still read his columns online.

Because of Daddy, I surround myself with books, and I'm partial to old ones.

I read our ancient copies of Black Beauty, Call of the Wild, Daddy-Long-Legs, and A Girl of the Limberlost
over and over and over, and to this day the smell of a musty book takes me miles away in my mind to those stories.

When I enter an antique store, I head straight for the book section. Not to buy, necessarily, but just to breathe, feel, and say Hello, you're not forgotten.

Our house overflowed in paperbacks, too, though. Daddy always had one in his metal lunchbox, usually a Louis L'Amour, and when I followed in his steel-toed-shoe footsteps years later, I always carried a paperback with me to work.

Today neither of us consumes books like we used to. Daddy reads the morning newspaper, but then turns his attention to the television when he's not doing laundry or other household chores.

I'm always somewhere in a just-for-fun book, but it takes me forever to finish them, only cracking them open to read while I eat lunch. When I'm at home. And don't have something else I have to read.

But all of those books and words and voices still bind us, and despite the miles between us, and the words we cannot say, I feel him with me every time I open a book.

Thank you, Daddy.

Sometimes the poorest man leaves his children the richest inheritance.

~Ruth E. Renkel

(This is my contribution to the Generation Fabulous Father's Day BlogHop. Click HERE to see the other wonderful posts about women and their fathers.)
Adventures in Hyundai-land (No autographs, please)

June 5, 2013

When you have a husband who can do just about anything, you don't spend much time waiting for your car to be serviced or repaired. He prefers doing it himself to save money.

But sometimes that husband ends up with too many cars and projects that need his immediate attention, or your car requires something that takes special equipment, like an alignment…which is how I ended up in a nearby Hyundai dealership's waiting room Monday afternoon.

I didn't mind. There was a Keurig coffeemaker nearby, wi-fi available, and I brought my bag of goodies: a photography magazine, papers to critique, a blank notebook, and snacks.

As usual, the mechanic found some other things that needed attention. He actually carried the cabin air filter out to me, to show me how nasty it was. "I think something was living in this," he said.

Do you remember the little mouse I found in my glovebox? Well, now I know where that little toot was nesting!

But the most exciting part started about halfway through my wait. A large video camera captured a customer walking in the door, over and over and over. A commercial was being filmed, right before my eyes!

I snuck this photo. I didn't want to look like a total geek, but, I mean, how often do you get to see something like that?

(Why, yes I do live a sheltered life.)

That's not the best part, though.

See the man with glasses up there? That's the Director. About an hour later, he approached me and asked if I'd like to be in a commercial. Well, specifically to 'volunteer' to be in a commercial.

Well, heck yeah I would!

I signed the requisite papers and then waited while they "set up the shot". (That's film lingo for those of you not in the "Biz".)

Soon, there I was pulling a car I pretended was mine into the service bay, the Director and his camera crew on my left. I climbed out as gracefully as possible (which probably wasn't too graceful), smiled and shook hands with the service rep, exchanged some fake conversation about my pretend car, and then "CUT!"

We did it three or four times, standing in different spots, and then my spot in the limelight was over. The camera crew moved off to film another volunteer vignette.

My non-speaking two seconds on the tube will be part of a Grand Opening commercial for the Round Rock Hyundai Dealership – unless it gets cut because of the lack of gracefulness I mentioned. I have no idea when it will air, but I guess I need to start watching more television so I don't miss it!

Now I can cross "starring in a commercial" off my Bucket List – right after I write it on there.

By the way, thank you for the sweet comments I've received about yesterday's glum post. I went to bed reminding myself to "Be still, and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10) and early this morning I woke with the sweetest sense of peace in my soul.

On my walk with the pups, my heart swelled in gratitude for the blue sky and birdsong all around me, and even for the wet dog hair left clinging to my hand after scratching Max because I know one day I'll miss it, as yucky as it is, because I won't have that stinky, goofy country dog to cuddle anymore.

My friend Shirley posted this in reply to my post on Facebook, and it is so very true. I hope if there are any worries or disappointments weighing on your heart, it helps you hang on.

"Joy comes in the morning."

~ Psalms 30:5

Thank you, Shirley, and all of you again…
Goodnight, Tuesday (and kids, stay in school!)

June 4, 2013

I said goodnight to Tuesday out on the porch. As I rubbed Belle's belly, the sun slipped below the horizon, leaving a smudge of orange above the trees.

I'm almost ashamed to tell you I wasn't sad to see it go. Despite my vow to not wish time away, to be grateful for every minute, blah, blah, blah…I've struggled to hang on to my smile today. First thing this morning I got an email letting me know the job I'd been crossing my fingers AND toes for since March wasn't available after all.

It was a writing job. One where I could finally put all of my experience at the chemical plant to good use, doing what I love, and get paid to visit my parents in Houston for a week or more each month, instead of having to take off work to go. Paid well enough to get us out of debt, I should add.

A friend tried to help me out, but she just couldn't get that door open. This is where a degree in English or Journalism would have come in real handy. Years and years and years of creative writing and newspaper reporting just didn't cut it.

I guess the big lesson is, if I had stuck with Chemical Engineering, if I hadn't dropped out, I wouldn't be writing this right now.

Of course, if I hadn't been a total stay-at-home mom, devoted to volunteering and only working part-time jobs for the past twenty years, I wouldn't be writing this, either.

Although, honestly, I don't really regret those decisions or feel they were wrong.

My email inbox tried to cheer me up. These were the two quotes-of-the-day I received:

Trust the past to the mercy of God, the present to his love, and the future to his providence.

~ St. Augustine

and

Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.

~ 1 Thessalonians 5:18

Another coincidence was a book Tom brought back to me from his mom: Basket of Blessings, 31 Days to a More Grateful Heart, by Karen O'Connor. I glanced through it this morning. It reminded me of my collection of sweet!s, although she digs a little deeper about what we can be grateful for.

This one made me really stop and think:

We can be grateful for pain: the death of a loved one, divorce, or illness…each a gift in its own way if we take time to see it.

I was still pondering that when I received the email, which for me heralded the death of a dream, of a glimmer of hope and help for my family, and smashed my self-confidence.

So I've spent the day praying for a grateful heart, thinking of those poor people in Oklahoma who have been hit so hard just recently and reminding myself of all the blessings in my life.

For starters, I was able to walk my puppies just as the sun rose on a clear summer sky, to run with healthy legs and heart and lungs on my treadmill, to shower with hot water, to drive in my car to a job in a beautiful location where I work with nice people and get to meet others.

But it's not a career. It's part-time. It's fun in a way, but I've learned all there is to learn. It's not going to evolve into something else. And it's definitely not enough money.

So I'll keep searching, keep trying to adapt my eclectic work and volunteer experience into the requirements and explain why I don't need a college degree to do the job, of wondering if I'm perceived as too old to learn anything or start a career.

But not tonight. To paraphrase Sister Golden Hair…"…I tried to make it Tuesday, but I got so damn depressed, that I set my sights on Wednesday and I got myself undressed."

Goodnight, Tuesday. No hard feelings?
Movies (and other sweet!s)

June 2, 2013

The past few days have been a blur between working at the winery, job applications, taking care of the puppies, a little bit of writing…and watching movies.

I've watched four since Friday night and I'll be watching another one in just a few minutes. I'm not sure if I've ever watched that many in such a short time, but if I have, it was a long, long time ago.

But TG has been hanging out with me this weekend because we had someone quit at the last minute at the winery and thank goodness my sweet girl agreed to help us out at a special dinner last night.

She had as much serving experience as I had when I started – none! But she caught on fast and having her there made the night seem more like fun and less like work.

Sweet, right?

Here are a few other sweet! moments from this past week…

Wednesday: happy dogs on a morning walk; fields of Texas thistle and Mexican hats growing in dry pond bottoms; finishing the editing of a photo shoot

Thursday: your customer loving the photos you took of her family; Daddy-Long-Legs; moths the size of hummingbirds

Friday: wishing your mother-in-law a happy 80th birthday, even if it's via the telephone; spinach quesadillas and Happy Hour frozen margaritas; giggling through "Night at the Roxbury" and "Saturday Night Fever" with your daughter

Saturday: hearing that your dear friend is better and will probably be released from the hospital that day; making it through a 13-hour workday, and teaming up with your daughter for the second half; sampling roasted duck and shrimp croquettes; staying up late after work to watch "Napoleon Dynamite" with your daughter even though you're both exhausted; Napoleon Dynamite's dance routine; baby grapes

Sunday: waking to the sound of rain; visiting with friends at church; time to publish flower photos on your photography blog before heading to work; finally watching all of "Cool Runnings" after years of only catching the end

Wishing you a week blurry with sweet! moments!

(I'd love to hear about some of yours from this past week! Please share them in the comments.)
The Sugar on Top, Part 2 – Happy 80th Birthday, Mom!

May 31, 2013

Today is my beautiful mother-in-law's 80th birthday. She didn't want a big celebration, although she deserves it after raising nine boys into nine wonderful men.

…Probably because that would tempt all nine boys plus their families to converge on her house (or nearby vicinity) all at once…and even for a wonderful mother, that's a lot of family to take all at once, especially after the year she's had.

She lost Pop in August, after a big reunion in July where almost all of the brothers overlapped in Florida for at least a day, celebrating Pop's 80th birthday and two brothers' 50th birthdays. Everyone converged again to celebrate his life at a beautiful wake and stayed as long as they could to help Mom get things settled.

While she's always amazed me (can you imagine raising nine boys?) her grace and strength over the past year have been such an inpiration to me. But then, from the moment I met Tom almost thirty-two years ago, Mom has been teaching me about faith and hope. Thanks to her gentle guidance, I eventually converted to Catholicism, although I knew she would love and accept me whether I did or not.

Instead of one big celebration for her birthday, she's getting a few mini-celebrations over the month. One son visited last week and Tom is there now, along with two other sons (one lives nearby) and our son Daniel. I'm sure the days have been filled with plenty of cribbage and 3-13, and the requisite name-calling and cussing that goes along with the competition.

She may be joyful and quick with a hug, but watch out for her when you're playing cards!

I would love to be able to give her a big hug and let her stomp me as usual in 3-13 today, but I'm just grateful I was able to share Tommy's wedding with her last month, where she danced with her sons, grandsons, and even the bride.

Now here I am, a mother-in-law myself. If I'm only half as good at it as Mom has been, my daughter-in-law is a lucky woman. I learned from the best.

Happy 80th birthday, Mom. Thank you for embracing me as your daughter all those years ago…for all the hugs and help…and especially for your grace and strength that comes from your immense faith. I love you!

A mom's hug lasts long after she lets go. ~Author Unknown

For more about Mom, read The Sugar on Top, Part 1.

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