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What if you find out something that you always thought was there, but never really pursued because there was a chance that it was true and if that was so, then where in the world would you be?

Case in point - I KNEW that Robert felt a certain way, but pretended I didn't. Because if I did, then that would obligate me to change my way of doing something I wanted to do. Do you go ahead with something that you know your husband is not behind?

TANGAT. It's a dead issue. And I smashed two fingers today so hard I cried.

What a horrible horrible day.

My Babies!!

Jarred and I planted the grandchildren today. Ha!!!

I bought 5 crepe myrtles (did I murder that spelling or what???) of different colors and put them on the front part of my house - the yard inside the circle drive. One is James and one is Kaia and one is Julee and the other two are waiting for names. I think it will be cool to look back and remember that we put these in the ground the first year we were here and at that time I had five grand kids.

I laugh every time I look at 'Kaia'. Brandee rolls her eyes at all my 'WOW! Lookat the color on THAT crepe myrtle. Brandee is probably rolling her eyes as she reads this. HA!

Jarred

I so love having Jarred here. He's adorable.

Funny how your mind works.

Got to thinking today as I mowed the lawn with Cynthia (she stood/leaned/sat up against me) . . .

What am I working for?

Honestly, what does the condition of this lawn, the horses, the property . . .what good is it really? Rob and Jarred don't want it.

Love this house, and am SO thankful for my life . . . . how can it be so different from what my boys want?

Feeling a little lost right now.

Memories on a Summer Day

Hot sweat on baby fine hair, heat waves against a brilliant green field, dense cool shade on the hottest summer afternoon, tire swings cutting into your legs, ponies breathing hot breath against your face, running from cra-dads that jump for your toes in cold shallow creeks, splashing water all over your sister, playing horse in a field of sweet clover, the sound of cicadas as a little girl kills time on a blazing Missouri summer afternoon.

It's a sobering that these images exist only in my memory now.



Someone said you can never go home. And it's true.

A Whole New World

Now hang with me a sec . . .

I've always thought there was a whole other dimension that we can't see that exists at the same time as we do. On that other plain life is fit into shuttles, one frame after another, flipping through years. Things don't just happen there, they are made to happen - - - like a filmmaker.

Now, in this place are entities that move the world around. For example, when I put down the phone it moves it to the next place I'm going to put it so I'll know it's there. They (these 'Ace moving guys'), have to physically touch every single thing or it doesn't get 'life'.

Sometimes the entities mess up. I know this for certainty because I'll be looking for something and one second it's not there, then in the next instant, it's in front of my face. They blew it.

Think I have too much time on my hands?

Yuck

Is it just me or is it easier to sweat now? Seems like I just go out for the mail and I come back sopping. And my clothes smell funny. And the gnats are friendly. Let's not even talk about the mosquitoes.

And when it drips into your ear canal . . .

Sometimes it Feels Like it's Gonna Just Pop

I always seem to have a headache now. Amy says it's the weather and Julie says that my brain is dehydrated. I heard that motrin is best, or tylenol is best. I've tried to sit in the dark, or under the ac and killed all caffeine. No go.

I think it's because I've got too much going on and it's overload. My head won't let me forget that I'm spread too thin.

When Cynthia Talks

When Cynthia talks, to most people it sounds like gibberish. You can tell she's frustrated. To her ears, she's being as plain as day. No one else seems to get it.

After spending the morning with her, I can make out almost all of what she says. For a child who didn't begin to speak until she was 2 and a half, to me, she is doing very very well.

I have learned that if you take the effort to simply listen, then you not only understand, you help others to feel understood. The world spins a little easier. That makes no sense, I know. But it does to me. And Cynthia.


Praying that Cynthia will be mine. I can learn a lot through her.

A day of Bummers

They sent me a gallery of my book and I am so 'not a happy camper' about it. I guess I thought they'd just do it perfect. Guess not. Have to get with them and fix that which puts the publication back That was a bummer.

Have to start working out today. Need to do something and I'm guessing that the knowledge that I need to do something isn't taking off the weight or helping me to walk better, so guess I'll have to get off the ole hiney and do something. Major bummer.

Robert told me I have to go shopping for girl stuff, and have fun doing it and I have no clue how to go about that. (Couldn't I just buy a new saddle instead?) Bummer.

But the rain's coming in again - I still haven't had enough to satisfy the 'nesting' instinct. And I have some serious scrap booking to do. That means I can put off the shopping for a little longer.

It'z intha Water

Oh my word . . now Cryssy is pregnant. Jaci, Brandee, Megan, Misty, Lisa and now Cryssy.

Wow.

While I have accepted God decision, I am unprepared for the pain of this. And the tears I thought were gone forever.

I just wish this horrible hope would die.

Nesting

When I was a little girl, I read the book, "the Long Winter" by Laura Ingalls Wilder. It always fascinated the 'nesting' part of me - the staying cooped up in a room, with just a candle, fat quilt, hot chocolate and the wind. The big deal for the Ingalls family was getting to real an article from a stack of old news papers once every day. They lived for it. It has stayed with me . . .what would I do to keep from going insane if I got 'colded in' (we all lknow there are no 'Long blizzard winters' in South Texas)?

I just rearranged my books. Got a good look at what I have.

I could probably get a degree with all I have here.

Richard Adams once wrote that ". . . people who say they love the cold are really saying that they love the security they have against it. Animals in the wild have a much more realistic view of winter." How true can you get? I am secure, I am protected, well fed and have interesting, funny husband, so yeah, I love being 'colded in'. Adams nailed it.

Laugh out Loud Happy

Had a disturbing realization today.

I was thinking on what to write on my blog today and thought I'd ask what time in every one's life that they were the happiest. Asking the question demands that I give my response first. But I was stumped. I gave it a lot of thought and couldn't come up with any single time that stood out.

Rob and Jarred were memories of wonder, awe and this unreal fear that I was in over my head.

My marriage was one of acceptance - both times.

My baptism was one of desperation.

I've been 'grin happy' a lot in my life. Things have gone pretty good except when they didn't. And when things were black, they were opaque.

But 'Laugh out Loud' happiness? Maybe that's a wait on heaven thing.

So He is Normal

When I hit the ground, I heard that sickening 'THUD!' that I'd completely forgotten existed.

See, I'd been lulled into a false sense of security when it came to horses. Tesster, although fun and tending to be 'witchey', was a secure, safe ride. What she threw at me, I handled with a grin. She made me too sure of myself. Enter Chief, her son, who said 'Duh! Whatever you want, Jackie' so may times I'd gotten careless. It both surprise me and was something I expected when he turned tight and pitched me right off.

I laid on the ground, trying to breathe and thought' "Serves me right. You were stupid, chick." But the foremost thought was; "This isn't any fun any more. I want some help."

Ah, the life lesson in that. Oh, the new chapter waiting to be written.

'Resting'

On the trip to get the red truck to California, I found that I have become quite the bathroom connoisseur. We had to fill up every four hours going and every 3 coming back. With all that time on the road, I got to be in many MANY more bathrooms than I wanted.

I learned that most people don't clean their hands - trash baskets were sparsely filled with paper towels, and I learned that I am simply unable to use a bathroom without buying something. Also, you get to a point where you don't even attempt to balance anymore. Yeah, I sat, actually sat on unfamiliar toilets.

tmi, I know.

24 hours

Dust devils can reach far, far, FAR into the sky. I didn't know that. I watched them dance (once there were seven at one time), and it was literally one of the most graceful things I have ever seen. They flitted across the Arizona and California deserts. Deceptive things, dust devils. Beautiful and hypnotising from a distance, but they throw your vehicle around should you run into one.

I saw blobs of rock. Put there by a God who has the most amazing imagination, they sprang from nothing. Their beauty caught in my throat, then they were gone, and the sand remained.

108 in Phoenix, 104 in Palm Springs. Dry. Dead. The air was filled with grit. The people unkind.

So many lessons, so much time. The trip was 24 hours one way. It will live in my memory for much longer.

Slow Trucks

On my horrendous three day whirlwind tour to central California and back, I noticed several signs that read: 'Slow Trucks'.

What exactly does that mean?
1. (Be careful there are) 'Slow Trucks' (on the road) . . . or
2. Slow (down, all you) Trucks. . .or
3. Slow (stupid) Trucks (are scattered. Beware.)

If #1 and #2 are true, ok. (Didn't these guys get a license - - they DO know what they're doing, right???) If number three. that's not very encouraging to them. Couldn't it be rephrased?

And also, if you have to tell the driver of the truck numbers 1 & 2, doesn't that make them #3?

And by the way, the word 'Slow' looks wrong if you look at it too long, doesn't it?

Pictures of Mom

Ceal's blog got me to thinking. I put a picture of my mother next to my bed when I got home from Lubbock. She's smiling in it. I was looking at it last night and actually wished I was able to talk to her again. I just wanted to hear her voice for some reason. I didn't need anything specific . . just to hear her voice. The picture of her seemed to urge me to call a number that is no longer there.

. . . . and then . . . .

Then I close my eyes and see her on that stupid bed in ICU, hear the respirator keeping her alive, see her uncomprehending eyes open, see the monitor slow then finally stop.

At last I am able to cry.

The Red Truck

Robert first truck was a GMC step side. It was really red and not all loaded with bells and whistles but just seemed quietly cool. He really loved that truck. I used to watch him as he drove, his young (around 25 years old) face would just grin. He was a happy camper behind the wheel.

But during desert storm I had to stop my full time job and go part time. I couldn't afford two vehicles. I had a red convertible and the truck. And since the car had 4 seat belts, the truck had to go. I was heartbroken. Not because of the truck, but because it was special to Robert and I blew it.

My brother offered to take over payments so I wouldn't have it repossessed. He's had it for going on 11 years now.

He told me during moms funeral that he didn't' use it anymore and asked if I wanted it back. It's got body problems and transmission problems. . . . but . . . Roberts 25 year old face comes back with real force.


Yeah. I want it back.

Da Boys

Actually got to speak to both Jarred and Rob today. How weird was that? I was so tickled that I think I actually giggled. It was better than reading the back of the shampoo bottle at a friends bathroom.

And I thought; Man! I used to see these guys every single day. I used to laugh and fight and grump and joke with them all the time. I took it so for granted. It's all gone. All the hugs and kisses and stuff that comes with raising two boys named Robby and Jarred. What I wouldn't do to have those times back.

Will no one ever learn that in time?