Cruisin' With the Lid Down

The Paris News Strikes Again!

2009-09-11T11:12:00.004-05:00

Denise and I went to see "Julie and Julia" a week or so ago, and during the part where Julie is setting up her blog for the first time, Denise turned to me and said: "so, are you still blogging?" to which I replied, "not so's you'd notice, huh?!?" Between life - and Facebook - the blogging has gone by the wayside. So, here's proof that I DO still blog. I know I haven't in a long while - its just that we spent a busy, busy summer doing tons of new and different things. Someday, I'll blog about them.

Now - on to The Paris News. Six years ago, after the whole Nazi flag flap (has it really been six years??), I wrote what I still consider to be the finest piece I have ever written about the whole hoo-hah and submitted it to The Paris News for publication. A couple of weeks went by, and the paper printed tons of letters - both from locals and outsiders - and mine never made it to print. One evening, well after the hubbub had died down, I got a call from Philip Hamilton, who was the editor at the time. He apologized profusely, and said that my letter had gotten lost on his desk. "I know it's sort of water under the bridge," he said, "but it's really a good piece, and I'd still like to print it if you want me to." I told him that I thought it was too late, it was the paper's loss, but thanks anyway.

Fast forward to this week: one of the paper's regular guest columnists - one of our home-grown finest - had a column about the flap over the audacity of a sitting president wanting to speak to school children about the importance of education. Here's a direct quote from the guy: "We have far more concerns in the United States for the President to be involved in than the education system." Holy CRAP. If the education of our future leaders isn't the most important thing on the president's agenda, it ought to move right up to the top. TODAY.

So I wrote another letter on Tuesday. I emailed it to the current editor of the newspaper, Mary Madewell. Days went by, and....{insert sounds of crickets chirping here} nothing. Other letters about the issue showed up in the paper, so yesterday, I sent another email asking, in a nice way: what the heck?!? I got an email from Mary this morning saying that apparently, my email got lost in her inbox, and she's so sorry, and she doesn't know how this happened, and could she print it this coming Monday?

I said no. Too late, and besides, if I had anything to say in the newspaper now, it would be about the crass, embarrassing, low-class, school-yard-bully-wannabe behavior of the supposedly esteemed Congressman from South Carolina.

So anyway, I think I'll give up on trying to get anything into The Paris News. Maybe I should have put some typos in it - they seem to like printing typos.

However, not wanting a decent piece of writing to go totally to waste, I am posting here, for all five of my regular readers to see, my response to Charles Melton's column of September 7th:

To the Editor:

“Every time you walk through that classroom door, make it your mission to get a good education. Don't do it just because your parents, or even the President, tells you. Do it for yourselves. Do it for your future. And while you're at it, help a little brother or sister to learn, or maybe even Mom or Dad. Let me know how you're doing. Write me a letter -- and I'm serious about this one -- write me a letter about ways you can help us achieve our goals. I think you know the address.”

Words from a president to schoolchildren across America, meant to inspire learning, meant to encourage children to stay in school and complete their education. But if I understood Charles Melton correctly, certainly not words that any president should ever utter at any time.

The interesting thing about the above quote? It is from a speech given on October 1, 1991, by then-president George H.W. Bush to students at Alice Deal Junior High School in the District of Columbia, and broadcast live to schools across the nation by CNN, PBS, and the NBC Radio Network.

Or, what about this? “we're entering one of the most exciting times in history, a time of unlimited possibilities, bounded only by the size of your imagination, the depth of your heart, and the character of your courage. More than two centuries of American history -- the contributions of the millions of people who have come before us have been given to us as our birthright. All we can do to earn what we've received is to dream large dreams, to live lives of kindness, and to keep faith with the unfinished vision of the greatness and wonder of America.”

That’s from a speech given by Ronald Reagan on November 14, 1988, to a group of schoolchildren in the White House, also broadcast live to schools across the country on C-SPAN and the Instructional Television Network.

Apparently, as does President Obama, our previous presidents have seen the value in speaking directly to students. After all, what better way to promote the value of education, of patriotism, of setting high expectations for oneself and one’s community, than by speaking directly to the part of our citizenry who will be responsible for our country in years to come? Students who are at risk of dropping out of school, of not taking their education seriously, or simply need some sort of encouragement might well be inspired by the words of a president, whether those words come from Reagan, Bush, or Obama.

Indeed, a terribly sad, defeatist philosophy was expressed by Mr. Melton in his opinion column on Monday: “the children who do not stay in school and earn the free education offered by local districts do so because that is their choice. Most of the drop outs have been raised through the welfare system and feel that the government is going to provide for them anyway, regardless of education.” Wow.

Thankfully, here in Lamar County and across the whole span of our nation, parents, teachers, community leaders – and even the President of the United States – refuse to give in to such a defeatist attitude. Hopeful, caring, committed people believe that ALL children are capable of learning, that ALL children are capable of rising above their circumstances, that ALL children – regardless of their socio-economic status, their race, or their religion – need to be encouraged by adults who have their very best interests at heart.

“This isn’t just important for your own life and your own future. What you make of your education will decide nothing less than the future of this country. What you’re learning in school today will determine whether we as a nation can meet our greatest challenges in the future.”

That’s a quote from Barack Obama’s speech of September 8, 2009. And I think that’s a message that even Fox News ought to be able to get behind.

Frances Reed
Paris

Hybrid Clothes Dryer

2009-04-09T10:28:00.004-05:00

My sweet husband indulges me in many ways. One of the things that I most appreciate is that he doesn't make fun of my feeble attempts to green our lifestyle. He puts the crap he skims from the goldfish pond into the compost bin. He puts the newspapers in the recycle basket, and asks about plastic and cardboard before he puts it in the trash.

He hasn't raised an eyebrow about my shower timer. And although I haven't noticed him using it, he does give me props when I use it. Four minutes for a shower.

I gotta be honest. I try, but ding dang, y'all. Four minutes is a SHORT shower. I sometimes...forget...to notice when the timer is empty.

And, for my birthday this year, you know what he did? He installed a hybrid clothes dryer for me!! Yep, a combination solar- and wind-powered clothes dryer that will help us reduce our carbon footprint and eliminate the need for those petroleum-based dryer sheets! He is so sweet to do that for me. Thank you, Sweetheart. It was a VERY happy birthday!

The Days of the Free Lunch

2009-02-27T08:20:00.005-06:00

Back in early 1991, when Randy and I were doing everything we knew to do to get our Grandy's to actually become a viable, money-making business, we sent a certificate for a FREE MEAL to every member of the Lamar County Chamber of Commerce.

Every. Single. Member.

A free meal. No other purchase required. Just come in to our restaurant, let us give you your choice of one of four different dinners with a beverage of your choice, and we will so amaze you with the quality of our food, and blow you away with the fabulous-ness of our service, that you will eagerly come back again and again and again....to purchase more of the same.

It worked. Seriously worked. That year, we turned the corner on a business that had been on the verge of closing up and going away, and made it so successful that it led to building new Grandy's and buying others in several other cities around east Texas and Louisiana.

There were a couple of hiccups involved. We actually had one guy just go off on us, because he had his one certificate, brought his wife in to eat lunch, and expected that we would give him not the one, but TWO free meals. Really. I was at the register, I took their orders, he handed me the certificate, which I deducted from the total, then asked him for the...oh, I dunno...five bucks for the second meal and drink, and he said,

"It's supposed to be free."

Yes, sir, I said, I took the price of your higher-priced meal off, and the cost for the second meal and drink is $x.xx. And he said, quite a bit louder this time:

"IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE FREE."

At first, I kinda thought he was just kind of joking with me, but as it became more apparent that he wasn't, I looked to Randy for help.

You know, generally speaking, we've always tried to take the advantage:guest attitude, but this guy was so jerky about not getting enough free food that we dug in our heels and they actually left the restaurant without eating anything. I hope they enjoyed whatever it was they ended up having to eat that day. Bet not, though. Some folks, you can just tell.

But I digress.

The point I'm trying to make here is that we chose to take the BIG chance of giving away food, when we were supposed to be in the business of selling food, in order to try to make a difference farther down the road. And it paid off. A risky move, to be sure, and we sweated over it, let me tell you. But drastic times called for drastic measures.

This past Monday, Quiznos announced a Million Subs Giveaway. All you had to do was to go to the website, register, and you'd get a coupon for a free small sub. Take it to your local Quiznos, and we will so amaze you with the quality of our food, and blow you away with the fabulous-ness of our service, that you will eagerly come back again and again and again....to purchase more of the same. Sound familiar?!?

In Lubbock, it worked like a charm. Certainly being a college town helped - because the college kids put the word out on Facebook and Twitter, by text message and phone call - so that by 5 p.m. on the first day we had taken about 50 of the coupons between the four restaurants. And that total has increased as the week has gone on. Our own kids ate well in Tuscaloosa, and I heard that Rachel enjoyed her sub in San Angelo also ;-). Overall, it's been a great event for us.

Unfortunately, not all of our fellow franchisees embraced the idea. All week long, I've gotten Google Alerts to different blogs and message boards, where people are complaining that they have tried at their local outlets and either been refused altogether, or required to make another purchase in order to receive their "free" sub.

And so now, in many folks' minds, we have ALL been painted with the same broad brush: "Worst...promotion...ever," read one. "Fake, fake, fake," said another. "What a scam," from another. "I will NEVER go to another Quiznos" from still another.

And it goes on and on - given the ease and speed with which unhappy customers can make their voices heard, we ALL now have a stigma attached to us. No matter that, in our stores, we have happily redeemed the coupons and done our best to exceed our guests' expectations...to some people, all Quiznos everywhere are now suspect.

And, not to sound like a child or anything, but: THAT'S NOT FAIR.

LOOK. I know it's a risk. I know it's hard to imagine that giving away food can be a good thing. But, I'm here to testify that it can be a good thing. And in dire circumstances - like determining whether your business will thrive or fold - a very good thing. In these uncertain, and very frightening economic times, we're all looking for something to count on, something to be sure of.

Here's one thing I'm absolutely sure of: in Lubbock, in Hot Springs, Bossier City, San Angelo, Tuscaloosa, and in hundreds of other communities across the country - most of us franchisees of Quiznos Sub EXPECT to succeed. Not succeeding? Not an option.

And that's the thing that those other franchisees don't get at all. And it's why, long after those other folks have closed or sold or been kicked out of their businesses, we'll still be here...amazing you with our food, and blowing you away with our service.

Kids and Dogs

2009-02-20T10:17:00.004-06:00

If you are even a casual reader of this blog, you have surely discerned by now that I'm a sucker for dogs. Mostly my own, but generally anyone else's dogs.

I've never been a huge Tiger Woods fan - not much of a golf fan in the first place, but I always thought Tiger was kind of a...cold person. Then I saw this picture:

I've always felt that you can tell a lot about a man by how he is with his kids and his dogs. So now? Consider me firmly in Tiger's corner.

Trophy Sofa

2009-02-13T16:18:00.003-06:00

At the beginning of the living room/dining room remodel, we donated the old "Cinnamon Sofa" to the Salvation Army. We always called it that because that's the sofa that Cinnamon used to sleep on, and as a result nobody ever wanted to sit on it because of all the dog hair. We never spent much time in the living room anyway, so it really didn't matter. As the guys were taking it out to the truck, I had the Shop Vac going and I was still vacuuming dog hair out of the bottom as they moved it. It was awful.

So we needed a sofa to go in the living room now that we've finished the new floor. We were looking for something small, inexpensive and simple. Straight, contemporary lines. Absolutely no poofy arms. We went to every furniture store in Paris (okay, so that's not very many, but still.) and couldn't find one we liked. Well, there was something at Reep's that would have worked, but the days of Walt selling us furniture at his cost are over, now that he's our Financial Advisor and not our furniture store-owner friend.

Every sofa for sale in the city of Paris has poofy arms. And if you're a lover of poofy-armed-sofas (as opposed to a sofa lover with poofy arms), no offense. But that's not what we want.

So we saw a picture in the paper of a sofa at Rooms to Go in Plano that we thought we might like, and I drove down to take a look.

Liked it.

Wanted to buy it.

Trouble ensued.

And...long story short (for a change): after three, 180 mile round trips within a week, a long, unhappy email to Rooms to Go Customer Service, a couple of phone calls between the RTG manager and me, and many, many Facebook profile updates...

I BOUGHT MY SOFA!!

I feel kind of silly to go to so much hassle for this one piece of furniture. It's a $400 sofa, for crying out loud, not a vintage Eames chair or anything. But it's ours, and it's coming home to Paris in 10 days. Here's a picture so you can see what all the fuss is about (I plan to lose the pillows):

A Hairy Situation

2009-02-12T09:10:00.004-06:00

Sammie sleeps on the bed with us. That's really not something I'm crazy about, but that horse left the barn the first night she spent with us. We've reached most of an understanding about how she needs to behave, and only occasionally do either of us kick her off during the night for poor behavior.

The BIG problem, though, is the hair she leaves behind. Now, we had a Golden Retriever, so I know from shedding dogs. It never occurred to me that a short haired Lab would ever shed so much. BOY was I wrong. So every morning for the last 14 months, I have spent way too much time de-hairing the bed. I have gone through countless lint rollers. I even got a blister on my thumb from using the rollers so much. I've bought every little mitt, "miracle" brush - even a "Pet Hair Removal System," all with varying degrees of success.

And at last: I think I've found The Answer.

The Pledge Fabric Sweeper. This is a nifty little roller/container that works like a charm. It sweeps the hair into a little closed container - no muss, no fuss - and when it's full you toss it and get another one.

Love it, love it, love it! And if Pledge (a part of SC Johnson - A Family Company) were to send me a case, I'd share it with all of my pet-loving friends.

I'm just sayin'.

Sammie Down Under

2009-02-10T18:35:00.004-06:00

Amid the horror of the Australian wildfires, this has got to be one of the sweetest pictures I have ever seen:

And after they rescued her, they named her...."Sam."

High Apple-Pie in the Sky Hopes

2009-01-21T20:32:00.004-06:00

Four and a half-ish years ago - July 27, 2004 - I made Amanda and James sit down with me to watch television. They're kind of wary when I tell them they're going to do something with me, cause they never know what might be on the horizon. But I told them they were going to watch a political speech, and when it was done, I'd tell them why.

So we listened together to the keynote address of the 2004 Democratic National Convention. The speech came to be known as "The Audacity of Hope." It ended with these words: "Hope -- Hope in the face of difficulty. Hope in the face of uncertainty. The audacity of hope! In the end, that is God’s greatest gift to us, the bedrock of this nation. A belief in things not seen. A belief that there are better days ahead. "

The speaker was a young man who, four months later, would be elected to his first term in the US Senate from Illinois.

His name? You know who it was. It was Barack Obama.

I told the kids when he was finished that I wanted them to watch that speech because I believed that this man, sometime in my lifetime, would be President of the United States. I wanted them to know his name early, so that they could be on the lookout for him in the years to come. Never dreamed that only four years and six months later, they would not only be able to say that the first vote they cast in any election would be for him, but also that they would be able to watch his inauguration as our 44th President. But here we are.

And in his inauguration speech, this is what he said:

"We have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.

But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions - that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America. For everywhere we look, there is work to be done.

Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions - who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.

What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility - a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.

This is the price and the promise of citizenship.

This is the source of our confidence - the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.

This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed - why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall, and why a man whose father less than sixty years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.

America. In the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations."

So now, at this point in our history, what have we learned? That it is no longer...audacious...to hope.

I choose - we choose - hope over fear.

God bless you and keep you safe, Mr. President. And God bless the United States of America.

Time Passages

2008-12-31T09:01:00.003-06:00

So here we are at the end of another year. Good thing I never got used to writing 2008.

I suppose I could get all deep and philosophical about wisdom earned or squandered, and the passing of time, but instead? This is what I've got:

I've been noticing that people are holding doors for me more now than they did this time last year. Younger people, I mean. Doing their good deed for the day.

And sometimes now, I'll look at somebody I don't know and think oh they're probably about my age, only to find that they're actually somewhere in their thirties. And the ones I look at and think they're somewhat...elderly...are actually about my age.

There's your time passages, right there.

Ah, well. Age is only a number, right? Happy New Year anyway!

That You May Know the Warmth of Love

2008-12-24T13:46:00.003-06:00

Having always been a much better writer than speaker, I've found many times in my life that there are things I'd like to be able to SAY, but have to write instead. When I talk about things that are emotional, well, I just get ugly. My face screws up, my voice goes away, I get all soupy and snotty and sappy, and...trust me. It's just not a good thing. So this year, you get to watch John Denver sing a song that expresses my Christmas hopes and prayers much better than I ever could.

For my children, who light up my life and take my breath away; for Randy, whom I love more than anything; for the family of my heart - Paula and Ben, Denise and all of hers; for my brother, my sisters-in-law, my nieces, nephews, and the awesome husbands and wives they have brought into our family; for the children whom I am blessed to have in my life: Jackson; Jack & Lola; Sam, Colin & Cody; Grace & Luke; Will & Pierson; Parker, Angie & Emily: here are the words of John Denver that are also my Christmas wish for each of you:

A Saviour-King was born that day,
A baby, just like you.
And as the Magi came with gifts,
I come with my wish, too.

That peace on earth fills up your time.
That brotherhood surrounds you.
That you may know the warmth of love,
And wrap it all around you.

Merry Christmas. I love you all.

Click if the video doesn't load.

Have Your sELF a Merry Little Christmas!

2008-12-17T19:41:00.001-06:00

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Hall of Fame!

2008-12-10T14:33:00.005-06:00

Randy and I just got back from snowy Denver, where Randy was inducted into the Quiznos Hall of Fame as the 2008 Franchisee of the Year! I'm SO proud of him.

With us in the picture is Casey Lindsey, our Operating Partner in Lubbock.

Just a Dog

2008-12-05T16:33:00.003-06:00

In my neighborhood, there is a backyard where a dog lives. This dog is chained to a tree seemingly at all hours of the day and night. I can only think of a time or two since these people moved to this house when I haven't seen the dog in the yard. When the tropical storm that had been Hurricane Ike passed through town? Even then, this dog was in that yard.

This yard is on the normal path that Sammie and I take every morning. Sweet Doggie (as I have come to call her) doesn't bark much, but she keeps a close eye on us as we walk by every morning, and it gets ever harder for me to just keep on going. My neighbor, Judy, used to take Sweet Doggie a treat every morning as she walked her two dogs. She bought a new collar and put it on S.D. once when she felt like her collar was too tight. The next morning, the old collar was back on, and the new one, cut into pieces, was on the curb when Judy walked by.

Judy has called Animal Control about this dog. I have called Animal Control. I believe other people have called also. Did you know that in the state of Texas, the only ordinance regarding dogs being tethered is this:

821.077. UNLAWFUL RESTRAINT OF DOG. (a) An owner may
not leave a dog outside and unattended by use of a restraint that
unreasonably limits the dog's movement:
(1) between the hours of 10 p.m. and 6 a.m.;
(2) within 500 feet of the premises of a school; or
(3) in the case of extreme weather conditions,
including conditions in which:
(A) the actual or effective outdoor temperature
is below 32 degrees Fahrenheit;
(B) a heat advisory has been issued by a local or
state authority or jurisdiction; or
(C) a hurricane, tropical storm, or tornado
warning has been issued for the jurisdiction by the National
Weather Service.

But unless a member of law enforcement actually sees a dog being restrained in violation of any of these conditions, nothing can be done to enforce it. Nothing. So, what do we do? Call Animal Control every morning? It was 25 degrees here this morning.

A month or so ago, I saw a city truck at the house, and the next morning there was a large "NO TRESPASSING" sign posted on a tree next to the street. It might as well have said Screw you for caring.

Judy doesn't walk her pups down that street anymore. Sammie and I don't go that way much anymore, either.

I look at all the ways our pets have contributed to and enhanced our lives, and I cannot imagine life without them. It's been more than a year, and still, I can hardly stand to talk about Cinnamon.

Honestly? I never thought I could love another dog the way I loved Cinnamon. We are approaching the first anniversary of Sammie coming into our family, and now it seems as if she's been with us forever. She has wiggled her goofy little way into my heart, and the thought of not having her with us is inconceivable. Sammie is NOT just a dog. She is a member of our family.

Now, I know that my family is perhaps more sappy about our pets than many people, but jeez louise...why have a dog if all you're going to do is chain it to a tree and forget about it?? Sweet Doggie - and every dog - ought to have a chance to become as much a part of some family as Sammie - our very own Pound Puppy - has become.

Now It's South Beach or Bust, Baby!!

2008-12-01T10:42:00.003-06:00

I wish I could link to Amanda's Rammer Jammer Facebook video from the Iron Bowl on Saturday. She and Randy had just a terrific time at the game!!

But, instead,here's a YouTube video. Try to ignore all the comments left by idiots. Yes, it's rather...ummm...crude, perhaps? But ding-dang, y'all! They earned the right to sing it. Six times!

Oh, Bama - this makes up for 1972. I didn't hardly ever get over that. Until now. All is forgiven.

Red and Rover

2008-10-31T16:24:00.003-05:00

Red and Rover is one of my favorite comic strips.

Unfortunately, The Dallas Morning News decided to stop carrying it.

Fortunately, I have found a gadget for my iGoogle page that shows the current Red and Rover for me every morning!

I thought the comic today was SO cute - it's a play on all those strips that have the mom bundling up the kids to go out and play in the snow, only to have one of them say "I gotta go-o-o-o! as soon as the last snap is snapped and zipper zipped. Only this time it's Rover, all wrapped up in his Halloween costume.

Homecoming.

2008-10-22T17:04:00.004-05:00

Our community has been rocked in the last week by the deaths of two of our teenagers. Both high school seniors, one at P-High, the other at NLHS, and both victims of single-car accidents. By all accounts, both of these kids, Hannah and Charles, were top-notch, quality young people with the brightest of bright futures ahead of them.

It's when things like this happen that I only imagine that their parents want to shout STOP!! REWIND!! Let's take this last 24 hours again, only this time I'll say, "why don't you stay home tonight?" or "hey - how about if I drive you there?" or "wait - let me have one more hug before you go..."

And it breaks my heart to think of parents, looking at the door, at the phone, wondering when the door will open, or when the phone will ring...and it never will.

From the time our babies are born, we teach them to do things for themselves. Eat. Talk. Walk. Read. We plan our lives around it: "I cannot WAIT until they can fill-in-the-blank, so I'll have a little bit of time to myself." But that's only as it should be. That's what we're supposed to do. That's what they're supposed to do.

They go off to their first day of school, and we cry. They come home at the end of the first day - just thrilled with their new independence, and our hearts are eased.

They drive off for the first time, and we don't take a complete breath until we know they've made it safely to their destination. They come home after their first trip - just thrilled with their newest independence, and our hearts stop pounding.

They go off to college, and we wonder if anything will ever be the same. They call home for the first time, bubbling over with stories of triumph and sorrow, and our hearts hope that they will always want to come home.

Live your life. Do what God intends. Go places. Have fun. Learn stuff. Do good things.

Just, please. Come home.

Superstitious, Much?!?

2008-10-01T12:18:00.013-05:00

"If you want to walk the heavenly streets of gold, you gotta know the password: "Roll Tide Roll!"
--Bear Bryant

I witnessed this exchange in the ladies' room at the Alabama watch party in Grapevine last Saturday. Bama was ahead 31 - 0 at halftime against Georgia. The mom had just bought a new Tide in Texas t-shirt for her daughter, who looked to be probably 12 -14 years old.

Daughter, looking in the mirror & holding up the shirt: This is cute! Hang on a sec and I'll change into it.

Mom, horrified: No way! You can't change what you're wearing! You'll jinx us!

Daughter, rolling eyes: What? You're kidding, right??

Mom, looking more and more panicked: No! Seriously! You can NOT change clothes at halftime when we're ahead!

I'm just standing there, washing my hands.Mom, hoping for help, looks at me. Daughter, shaking head in disbelief, looks at me.

Me, wearing my lucky Bama shirt, as I do on every game day: She's absolutely right, sweetie. If we're winning, then what EVER you were wearing at kickoff, you HAVE to keep wearing. I think it's a law or something.

Mom, relieved: If it's not, it should be.

Whaddaya say, Alabama?? Go Bama!! Roll Tide!!

Look to the Right!

2008-09-26T14:38:00.002-05:00

You'll see a widget for a CD called "Throwing Punches in the Dark" by Matthew Perryman Jones. Aside from the fact that it's a wonderful collection of songs by a wonderful artist, Matthew is also my cousin. My Daddy and his Granddaddy were brothers, so I THINK that makes us first cousins once removed. I think.

Anyway, Matthew and his wife, Meghan, and their gorgeous baby daughter Canaan live in Nashville. His music is increasingly being featured on current TV shows, like One Tree Hill and Eli Stone.

Clicking on the widget will let you hear samples of his music, and also take you to a website where you can download the songs directly. Or you can go to iTunes and buy this CD, and also his latest one "Swallow the Sea."

Enjoy!!

Encore! Encore!

2008-09-25T08:23:00.003-05:00

We ripped out all of our landscaping in the front yard this year, and planted lots of Encore Azaleas. The neat thing about these is that they bloom several times during the year - not just in the spring. They are blooming now, and they are just gorgeous!

Startle Reflex

2008-09-24T13:26:00.002-05:00

As Sammie and I were walking this morning, she got all caught up in a scent trail, which led her a good way up into a neighbor's yard. She wasn't paying much attention to where she was going, and she bumped pretty hard into one of the political yard signs that are quite prevalent in the neighborhood now. It startled her, the sign did, and she jumped away and got a little bit bowed up - the hair along the ridge of her spine stands up at varying degrees, based on how startled/scared/angry she is.

I understand how she feels - they ALL scare me, too, these days.

...and will you also be sending along a key to the building so I can get in and make my own?!?

2008-09-23T09:46:00.003-05:00

Okay, I know what I said yesterday, but this was just too good to not pass along.

The response I received from Starbucks Customer Care:

I was very sorry to hear about your recent experience at the Lamar & Loop 286 Starbucks store. I appreciate you taking the time to bring this matter to our attention. I will share your comments with the management team responsible for the store in order to address the issue properly.

In order to invite you back into this store, I have arranged for a couple of beverage coupons to be sent to you. You should receive them soon.

If you have any further questions or concerns, please don't hesitate to contact us at...

Randy and I have learned a large portion of what we know about managing our business by watching other companies mismanage theirs.

A Parting Double-Shot

2008-09-22T12:26:00.003-05:00

Before I get started with this, I just want to say that I do understand that a Starbucks closing is not the worst thing in the world that can happen. I am not that shallow. There are tragedies large and small taking place all around the world every moment of the day, and billions of people would love to have no bigger problem than a coffee shop closing.

I get that. Truly I do.

And this will be my last post about it.

That being said, I've also come to realize that I can only control what I can control. I can't make everyone in Paris recycle, but I can recycle here at home, then talk to people about what I do, and encourage them to start. I can't feed the world, but I can take a bag of groceries to Christians in Action. I can't stop war, but I can encourage people to vote.

I can't keep Wendy's from being taken over by Arby's, but I can vote my measly 52 shares against the merger. And I can't keep our Starbucks open, but I can make a little bit of noise when I think they treated their employees shabbily on their last day of business. I posted the following as a customer comment on the Starbucks website on Saturday morning:

Yesterday was the final day of business for the Paris, Texas, location. I am most disappointed in the way the closing was handled. Instead of giving Starbucks’ loyal customers and friends one last chance to stop in and receive our normal legendary service in the customary, wonderful environment the Paris store has always provided, some bright light made the decision to send in people from another store to start packing everything up DURING BUSINESS HOURS. You couldn’t have waited until the store had actually closed to do all this? Unbelievable.

What this meant for customers trying to say goodbye, was that our favorite baristas, shifts, and managers had to try their hardest to work around strangers who were running around with power tools, taking fixtures off the walls, removing product from the serving line, and generally making nuisances of themselves. It also meant that we customers had to sidestep piles of boxes and packing materials in the lobby. Rather dangerous and extremely irritating. One of the people who came in was, I believe, the store manager from your Texarkana location. Besides the fact that she had a visible tattoo and a pink stripe in her hair (when did that become acceptable?), she was rather loud and obnoxious as she yelled directions at the people she had brought with her. “Take this! Pack that! Don’t leave that behind – we can use that!” They took so much product off the line, that the last few customers in the store at 5:30, there for the 6:00 close, had to wait while one of the Paris baristas had to go look in one of the Texarkana crew’s truck to get STRAWS for the drinks that were still being sold.

To their credit, and despite all the mayhem, the Paris staff still managed to work with smiles on their faces, putting out terrific products, taking time out for hugs, or pictures, or answering questions about where they’d be working next from their longtime regular customers. They have stayed positive and upbeat, even as they knew that their store would be closing. We customers never heard a single, negative word from them about your ill-considered and idiotic decision to close this store.

Since you're closing 600 of your stores, one would think that you ought to be getting pretty good at it, but it's apparent that you have a long way to go to figure out how to close a store. Quite obviously, The Starbucks Corporation doesn’t give a rat’s ass about your now-former Paris customers, but your partners in this store deserved much, MUCH better from you.

That is all.

Changing Habits

2008-09-10T11:59:00.003-05:00

So it seems lately that many of the things that I have come to depend on are changing. This is causing me, a girl who likes her routines, a good bit of consternation.

I've already covered the whole thing with $tarbuck$. Their last day is September 19th. I have a new espresso maker, a source for the correct beans, and Roger has promised me a box of green straws, so I can make do. And while it still won't be the same, it'll be acceptable. Still ticks me off, though.

Now there's also a thing with Ocean Spray. I've been drinking their 100% Pure Natural Unsweetened Cranberry Juice for well over a year now. Twice a day. 3-4 64 oz. bottles a week. I hold it largely responsible for my 100 point DEcrease in cholesterol. Suddenly, I wasn't finding it on the shelves at Wall-E, so I figured they were just out. Days turned into weeks, and I asked, but nobody knew anything. I had Randy looking in Lubbock, and every time we went anywhere, I'd stop at all Wall-E stores we passed, and they were out also. I found a few bottles in Tuscaloosa when we took the kids, but that was the last I could find. Finally, I sent an email to Ocean Spray, and got a nice email back from them saying, in so many words, "so YOU were The One who was buying it!" They're not bottling it any more, because sales were so low. Well, crud. I like the tartness of the unsweetened. The other sixty million kinds of cranberry juice they sell just don't do it for me.

Then, there's this steak marinade that we've been using for EVER. My parents first brought us a bottle way back when we lived in Boone, North Carolina, and we've loved it ever since. Wall-E doesn't carry it anymore, and Kr0ger only has it every once in a while. What the heck?!? We can get it online, or anytime we travel back to Alabama, but STILL.

AND...for a couple of unpleasant weeks, all my local grocery stores were also out of my favorite breakfast cereal. Scary, but it was only temporary. It's back now. Whew!

And not that I'm one of those post-nuclear hoarders or anything, but I've got six boxes in my cabinets, and I'm wondering if that's enough. It's not like they'll go bad or anything. The cereal might get kind of stale...but once you pour milk over it, who'd be able to tell?!?

Nothing New Under the Sun

2008-09-09T15:33:00.004-05:00

What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.
--Ecclesiastes 1:9 (New International Version)

A million years ago (actually? 1971), there was a TV series called Rollin' on the River, hosted by a group called The First Edition. The lead singer was this hippie-lookin' guy named Kenny Rogers. With long brown hair and granny glasses, a gold earring and a full beard, who knew that he'd turn into The Gambler dude with a ska-zillion hit singles and a really botched plastic surgery job?!?

One thing that I saw on that show that has stuck with me for lo, these many, many years came (I believe) on the last show of the series. In 1971 (listen up, youngsters), we were smack in the middle of the muddle that was Vietnam, and it was a tough, tough time in the country. People were horribly, violently, polarized - everyone had an opinion, and most people thought that everyone ELSE was wrong.

Remind you of anything you've seen lately? Nothing new under the sun.

Anyway, Kenny came out at the end of the show - just him, a stool and a spotlight, and he read a poem. The only poem ever written by Mark Twain, it was written in 1904 (during the Philippine-American War), but was not published until well after his death - at his own request, but due to his family's urging, as they felt it might be considered by some to be sacrilegious. "I have told the truth in that..." Twain is reported to have said, "and only dead men can tell the truth in this world. It can be published after I am dead."

I have been reminded of The War Prayer recently, after hearing the quote from one of our national candidates about praying for "our national leaders...sending [U.S. soldiers] out on a task that is from God." At the risk of offending some of my friends, and some of my family, I wonder: is this, really, what we think we are praying for??

The War Prayer
Mark Twain
written in 1904, first published in Harper's Monthly in November, 1916

It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener. It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety's sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way.

Sunday morning came – next day the battalions would leave for the front; the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces alight with martial dreams – visions of the stern advance, the gathering momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender! Then home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored, submerged in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag, or, failing, die the noblest of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation

God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest! Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!

Then came the "long" prayer. None could remember the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them to crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory –

An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher's side and stood there waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued with his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered in fervent appeal, "Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!"

The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside – which the startled minister did – and took his place. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:

"I come from the Throne – bearing a message from Almighty God!" The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. "He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such shall be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import – that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of – except he pause and think.

"God's servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two – one uttered, the other not. Both have reached the ear of Him Who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this – keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon some neighbor's crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.

"You have heard your servant's prayer – the uttered part of it. I am commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it – that part which the pastor – and also you in your hearts – fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard these words: 'Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!' That is sufficient. the whole of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory – must follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!

"O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle – be Thou near them! With them – in spirit – we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it – for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.

(After a pause.) "Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! The messenger of the Most High waits!"

It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no sense in what he said.

Blackjack!!

2008-08-20T16:49:00.006-05:00

It hardly seems possible, but Amanda Jayne was born twenty-one years ago today! My, how time flies.

Randy and I both had dark hair. Wow.

I told her this morning when I called that the day she was born was one of the three best days of my life. But it was really oh-so-much more than just a good day.

Because, when she was born, everything changed. Instead of just being two married people with a couple of dogs, she turned us into parents...and we became a family. A noisy, messy, funny, loving, irritating family, made complete 20 months later when James was born.

And so, on this momentous day, I'd just like to say that everything I ever hoped for in a daughter, I found in Amanda. I could not have asked for a sweeter, funnier, smarter, happier baby girl. And to have the privilege of watching her grow up into a sweet, funny, smart, happy woman has been one of the great gifts of my life.

So much of me is made of what I learned from you...you'll be with me like a handprint on my heart.

Breathe In, Breathe Out...

2008-08-08T19:45:00.005-05:00

Contrary to popular belief, I have not dropped off the face of the earth. July was just a really busy month. We got Amanda home from Italy (yes, she thought it was spectacular), had an awesome almost-the-whole-family reunion (see picture below), got the Hot Springs condo spruced up and on the market, got almost finished with the den remodel (just working on the doors and trim now), I did Wii Fit every day in July except the days in Gulf Shores, and did the best I could to keep our $tarbuck$ open by consuming as many Iced Lattes and Blended Lemonades as I possibly could!

This awesome picture is the whole family, except for Hal,and Tom and his family, and Amy, and they just couldn't make it this year. Next time, for sure! From back left, there's Mark and Eve with Cody Lynn, Adam and Susan, James, Amanda, Laura and Walt, and Barry and Kim. Front row - Sam and Colin, Grace and Luke, me, Randy, Lola and Jack, Will, Donna, and Pierson. The first picture we took was the best one - can you believe it?!?

August is shaping up to be pretty full also. The kids are going back to Tuscaloosa next week, even though they just got here. Or so it seems. James is going to be able to transfer to the $tarbuck$ in Tuscaloosa, and is pleased about that. He's still thinking about changing his major to MIS. Amanda will finish up all her Art History hours this semester, and is starting to look into graduate schools and programs.

So until we get back from T-town, I just have a few random thoughts to share:

- Sammie declined her walk this morning. It was the funniest thing I've seen lately. It was raining, and I know she's not accustomed to seeing that. But, me? I was ready to suck it up and get on out there. I got her leash on, we went out through the garage, and when we got to the door, she stopped, peered out at the driveway, took a couple of steps and paused...took a couple more steps, shook, then came back in the garage and sat down! I stood there with her for probably five minutes, talking to her and sort of trying to move out toward the driveway. When she decided she'd had enough of THAT, she stood up, turned around and walked back toward the door to the house. What. A. Wimp.

- If you order four shots of espresso often enough in your latte, three shots is kind of flavorless.

- Brett Favre has gotten on my last sports nerve. Spoiled brat. I do, however, hope he helps the Jets, for Greeny's sake.

============================
This doesn't really go here, but I just need to say something. John Edwards has both broken my heart and pissed me off. What a clueless, idiotic jackass. Lord, please be with Elizabeth and her kids.

Sending Out an SOS...

2008-07-12T13:07:00.004-05:00

...as in "Save Our Starbucks!"

Several folks have asked me if there's anything we can do to convince Starbucks to let us hang on to our store. I know that corporate seems to at least be willing to listen. Here's what I know for sure:

The Seattle Times quotes Brad Stevens, Starbucks' vice president of customer-relations management, in this article about store closings: "customers could make a difference but added he (Stevens) has not heard much reaction from them. 'That's such an amazing thing, that customers would actually take up that cause,' he said. 'How lucky we are that we as a brand have that kind of relationship with customers. I think we would listen carefully.'"

So, what that says to me is they might not change their minds, but they'd maybe be willing to consider it. If any of you IT wizards out there can go to the Starbucks website and find an email address for Brad Stevens, PLEASE post it in a comment. I have poked around there myself, to no avail. They don't seem to want to give out individual emails. Go figure.

Here is the phone number for Starbucks Retail Customer Relations:
(800) 235-2883
Mon – Fri 5 AM – 6 PM (PST)
Sat – Sun 6 AM – 3 PM (PST)

Call 'em up. Tell 'em why they need to keep Paris open.

You might also go to their website at http://www.starbucks.com/customer/contact_forms.asp?nav=3e and fill out their comment form.

Obviously, you should also be buying stuff at our Starbucks as often as you can! If you don't like coffee, but you like the idea of Paris continuing to have a Starbucks here in town, they are going to be offering "Coffee for Troops" again starting this coming week. You can buy a pound or twenty of ground coffee, and they will get it to our troops for you.

Also, in a kill-two-birds-with-one-stone kind of thing, the Red Cross is collecting items to make available to the 600++ troops who will be training this month at Camp Maxey. Go to Starbucks, buy non-perishable stuff like bottled water, trail mix, CDs, books, etc., then take it to the Red Cross drop-off point at Ramseur Baptist Church this Friday, July 18th, between 9 and 12.

Remember to be positive and encouraging to the partners in the store! They're holding up pretty well, most of them, but it's a bummer to think that they might be out of a job soon. Many of them have been there since Day One, and this is a tough road. Tell them what you've done - if you've called, or emailed, or whatever. Tell them to keep their chins up - that you're not giving up, and neither should they!

And, finally, REPRESENT!! Carry your Starbucks cup with you when you shop, show the logo, talk about the store to people you know, and people you don't. Talk to the movers and shakers in town that you know (like Chip Harper, who loves Starbucks) and get them to call, email, write letters.

If we try, and they still close, at least we will know that we've done what we can.

How Starbucks Broke My Heart

2008-07-07T09:37:00.002-05:00

Or: When Numbers on a Corporate Spreadsheet Don’t Tell the Whole Story

I love Starbucks.

I’ve never made any apology for that. I like their products, the personality of the stores, the friendliness of the baristas. I’ve had Starbucks iced lattes from far west Texas to downtown Chicago, from south Alabama to Istanbul, in airports, malls, and on opening day at brand-new stores, and they’ve all been consistently wonderful.

Welcome to Paris, Texas.

A small-ish city of 25,000 in northeast Texas, we Parisians like to think of ourselves as more than a typical small town. Rumors frequently find root here about new businesses that are looking for locations. More often than not, the rumors are quickly debunked (Old Navy? Target? HAH.), but occasionally one turns into reality. Such was the case about two years ago, when the rumor began to spread that Starbucks was coming to town.

When that rumor did turn into reality – well, it was a happy day in Paris! Finally, something measurable that says that Paris is, indeed, more than just another small town. A Starbucks!! We have hit the Big Time, baby! We all watched eagerly as construction began and the store took shape. And when it opened, it didn’t take long for Starbucks to become THE place to meet friends.

No one was more excited than I when the often-dreamed of Starbucks became a reality for us. I’ve been there from Day One. Not daily, but close to it - and since James started working there this summer, it’s been more like a couple of times a day! They know my favorites – my morning Iced Quad Venti Non-fat Latte, my afternoon Venti Shaken Passion Tea Lemonade, or my new favorite, the Venti Blended Lemonade with Passion Tea. They tsk-tsk when I forget to bring my cup from home, because they know that I’m trying to consume less plastic. They remind me to pick up the iTunes pick of the week.

Many of the baristas remember me from Aikin, or they were in class with one of my kids. They call me Mrs. Reed, even though I’ve tried to get them to call me Frances, but now with James working there, they’re starting to call me Momma Reed. I like that. But what I really like the most, is that I’m not the only customer that they know so well. It’s amazing to me to see the number of people come in that the baristas automatically start working their drink as soon as they hit the door.

I’ve been reading with interest all the press Starbucks has been getting lately, as they’ve started to make some decisions about changing the trend that they have found themselves on – declining sales, unprofitable locations, all the corporate things that so often affect the folks on the front lines far more than the folks in the corporate offices.

As multi-store Quiznos franchisees for nearly ten years, Randy and I have seen many changes take place within our own corporate structure. Quiznos, like Starbucks, has suffered greatly from opening way too many stores in too short a period of time and with (in many cases) puzzling real estate choices. Many of our fellow franchisees have been unable to keep up with the changing requirements of a corporation taking sometimes drastic measures to steer Quiznos back onto a profitable path, and have closed or sold their restaurants. This is never an easy choice for a franchisee. No one goes into business thinking they will fail. So we are not unfamiliar with turmoil within a corporation as those in charge try to affect change that will strengthen the corporation as a whole.

How this manifests, unfortunately, is that decisions are made that affect not only the employees of a company, but also the communities involved.

Much to our dismay, we hear that OUR Starbucks is one of those 600 stores currently on the chopping block. At the risk of sounding a tad melodramatic, this is heartbreaking in many ways. As a business owner, I fully understand the need to streamline operations, to cull out the locations that are not profitable, and to reduce overhead. But I would hope that someone, somewhere in the corporate structure of Starbucks might stop looking at the balance sheet for just a moment and see what we – the customers of the store in Paris - see.

All of the things which Starbucks has always been about are present in the store in Paris. Partners who provide quality products, made to correct specifications (which I do not always find in other Starbucks I visit), in a clean and welcoming store. Partners who know their customers, by name and by beverage, frequently starting a drink when they see a familiar car pull into the lot. Partners who are involved in their community. From the store manager, Roger Courson, who seems to be everywhere in town talking about coffee and inviting folks to stop by, to the shift managers and partners who provided coffee and water at the recent Relay for Life – and didn’t leave the stadium until 4:30 a.m., Starbucks employees here in Paris embody the traits I believe that the corporation aspires for all their partners to display.

I know that this location is probably not currently profitable. Sales are probably not what they had originally hoped for. One of the things that should be taken into consideration is that for the entire time the store has been open, the highway directly in front of the store has been undergoing a major construction project. Access to the parking lot is weird right now, and commonly, a visitor to Paris has a hard time figuring out how to get there, and then get back to where they were headed. Even people who live in town try to avoid the area when they can. Many neighboring businesses have been deeply hurt by this project, and the whole city is ready for it to be done. When access is better, I am certain there’d be improved sales. Another thing to consider is that, even if sales are not what they had hoped for, what sales they do have here aren’t going to transfer to another location. Nobody’s going to drive for an hour just to get a Frappuccino.

Randy and I know from experience that sales and profits can come the longer a store has been open. Our store in Hot Springs was not profitable for the first three years it was open. The vast financial resources which Starbucks has at its disposal? The best we had was a MasterCard with enough available credit on it to keep the landlord and our food suppliers happy. It was a challenge to decide whether to keep going there, but we stuck it out, and now it’s doing very well – and getting stronger all the time. That, I believe, will be the case with Starbucks in Paris.

Plus, then there’s the whole goodwill and bad publicity thing. We in Paris don’t need another closed-up building to remind us that Oops! Just kidding! You’re really NOT the big small town you thought you were! PLEASE - close a location where you’ve got three in the same block, or a free-standing store across the driveway from the one in Target, but leave us our one store here in Paris.

IF (and I’m still holding out hope that someone will come to their senses and change their minds) this store closes, I will not feel the same way about Starbucks that I would have felt had they never come to town.

Because now?

Now, they’ve been here, and if they close, they will have screwed over people I have come to know and care about.

HOWARD SCHULTZ, ARE YOU LISTENING?!? Look up from your spreadsheet for just a moment and see what we’re looking at. This Starbucks has barely been open a year. We aren’t giving up on it. It’s far too early for you to give up on it.

Often Rumored but Seldom Seen

2008-06-22T12:40:00.002-05:00

I had heard that some people were able to actually get two cars in their two-car garage, but I had often thought that must be one of those urban myths.

However...after getting mostly finished with our large-scale remodeling projects, and being very selective about what items were allowed back in the house, and having a pretty awesome garage sale yesterday...after all was said and done, we are now capable of keeping two cars in the two-car side of our garage!!

Neat-o!

Fame and Dignity

2008-06-16T16:26:00.004-05:00

I like Bill Clinton. I always have. As president? I thought he was awesome. I don't, however, like some of the things he has done, or how he has handled much of his personal life. But I can compartmentalize. His personal life is pretty much his business, and should remain between him, Hillary, Chelsea and God. In my opinion.

Having said that, this little blurb in The Arkansas Times (scroll down to "Girls Gone Wild") about the pay-per-view business that Paula Jones and Gennifer Flowers have created in order to milk a little more...whatever...for themselves has a quote from G. Flowers that I had not read before.

"Flowers says her infamy was no ticket to riches and adds, 'What is fame without dignity?'”

Indeed.

I can't figure out quite what point she's trying to make here. This is a question that it seems to me should be asked OF her, not BY her.

What IS fame without dignity? Gennifer can't answer that, because she has neither.

FIRST PICTURES!!

2008-06-04T08:11:00.006-05:00

Pictures up on Amanda's Picasa!

She climbed to the TOP of the Duomo in the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, the cathedral of Florence. 463 steps!! Whoa.

You Say Arrivederci, I Say Goodbye...

2008-06-02T12:29:00.003-05:00

Saturday was an interesting day for me. I put my baby girl on a plane bound for a month-long stay in Italy, and I didn't even get teary eyed!

Actually, it all began on Friday, when Amanda and I drove to the metroplex to spend the night so we could make our early flight. We met Randy (who was coming home from Lubbock) in Rockwall for dinner at our favorite St. Louis-based burger joint. Our waiter had a name tag that said "Bilbo", and he actually did resemble Bilbo Baggins. Then Amanda and I drove on to Euless, where we spent the night. I pointed out to her the W3ndy's on Main Street, where Randy and I first met ("right there...by the front Frosty machine!"). Then we checked into the LQ, and had a nice room overlooking a new $tarbuck$, which we took advantage of before grabbing a quick breakfast and heading to the airport.

We had a 7:45 flight to Atlanta, and got there right on time. So that meant we had about 5 hours to kill before she was to meet her group. We ate, wandered around, then snagged a couch in the main terminal area, where we could people-watch, read, and snooze. In a nice turn, Amanda saw her Florence roommate, Braegan (isn't that a lovely name?), and her mom, who came and sat with us until it was time to go. So we had a nice visit, and I think both Braegan's mom and I felt better for having the chance to meet the roommates and see them together before they left.

So finally 4:00 came, and we went to meet the group at the Lufthansa counter. The group leader was there, with someone holding a Bama windsock aloft, so we knew we were in the right place. Amanda had gotten all her eye-rolling out of the way on the drive to the airport (as I was trying to get in all my last little admonishments: be careful, but don't be afraid to get out of your comfort zone), so that when I said goodbye, she let me get a little mushy without being too terribly embarrassed!

I was able to get on an earlier flight back to DFW, so I got home about an hour and a half before I had expected. And when I got home, the oddest thing happened.

First of all, you have to know that anytime anyone comes into the house who is new, or who hasn't been there in a while, Sammie tends to go nuts. We're working on being a little calmer, but she wants to jump and lick and dance and celebrate when someone arrives.

Usually.

When I came in, she was lying on the floor in the den near the garage door, and SHE DID NOT EVEN LIFT HER HEAD TO SAY HELLO. I put my things down, leaned over to pet her, and if she even thumped her tail, I didn't notice it. I think she was ticked off at me for leaving her.

It was the first time that she's spent a night in the house that I wasn't there. Randy and James both had stories about how she acted that at least let me know that she had noticed that I was gone, but for the rest of the night, she hardly gave me a second glance. As I went to bed, I was trying to figure out how I could get back in her good graces - maybe an extra-long walk the next morning, a new tennis ball, or a cup of the $tarbuck$ ice that she loves so much. Then in the middle of the night, I woke up to find her using my legs as a pillow, which she NEVER does, so apparently she decided to forgive me!

Amanda called on Sunday morning our time/afternoon her time, to say that she and her suitcase were on the same plane into Florence, so that was one big concern out of the way. She said their apartment is a nice, small, two bedroom, one bath flat that they are sharing with a couple of other Bama girls in their group. They are close to the Arno River, and they had found a couple of likely places to grab dinner before going back home and collapsing! Their schedule started today, with meetings and planning and stuff before classes begin tomorrow. She sounded tired AND happy AND ready to get on with exploring and learning and experiencing everything she can.

She promises to TRY to blog and post pictures, so when she does, I'll be sure and post links for y'all to see!

Thought for the Day

2008-05-28T10:07:00.001-05:00

"I get up every morning determined to both change the world and have one hell of a good time. Sometimes this makes planning my day difficult."

E.B. White
US author & humorist (1899 - 1985)

WOOT!!!!!!!!!!

2008-05-21T21:46:00.001-05:00

It's David Cook!!!

Click if it doesn't load.

VOTE TONIGHT: This is Really Important....

2008-05-20T14:43:00.003-05:00

OKAY, so it's not important in a this-is-the-most-important-election-of-your-lifetime, pick-your-government kind of way, but important nevertheless, in a pop-music-needs-this-guy-BAD kind of way:

Click if it doesn't load.

David Cook. American Idol. Tonight. 1-866-IDOLS-01. Vote early and often.

Seriously.

Rules to Live By

2008-05-07T09:39:00.003-05:00

Since Amanda's going to be studying in Italy this summer, I've been poking around on the internet to see what I could find about students, and Italy, and studying. I've happened on several interesting blogs by Americans who, for various reasons, have taken up residence in Italy. One of them, Allora, Aspetta! is by a young American woman living in Macerata, on Italy's Adriatic coast. She is teaching English to a group of young Italians, and they have their own blog, English No (Know) More, as a way of practicing the English they are learning. They have written a post entitled "Rules to Live By" with the list that their class has decided on, and they have asked for readers to come up with their own set, and then let the class know what they are. I have long had a set of guidelines I've thought everyone should follow, so I thought I'd write them down. Now, many of these are things I have adapted or stolen from my friends and other stuff I have read or seen, so please don't hang me on the copyright gallows, but here's what I think, in written form.

cruisermom's Rules for a Happy Life:

1. Flexibility is the key. Attitude is everything.

2. Read everything you can, whether it's the back of the cereal box, a cheap novel, or the New York Times. There is always something to learn.

3. Flush. Turn out the light when you leave the room. Clean up your own messes.

4. Don't eat junk.

5. Chocolate is NOT junk.

6. (a) No decision is irrevocable. (b) Don't marry a jerk. (c) If you do marry a jerk, remember - no decision is irrevocable. (credit Marilyn and Robert for that one!)

7. Travel as much as you can, to as many places as you can. You can't gain perspective if you never get off your beaten path.

8. Remember that everyone has a point of view. Just because it's not the same as yours doesn't mean it's wrong, it just means it's different.

9. Never say "it's too late," or "I'm too old." Even if you have only one more day, there's still time. Start somewhere.

10. You should always look for an opportunity to say "I love you."

So - that's my list. What's on yours?

The House Is Perfect. What Should We Change Next?

2008-05-02T14:14:00.006-05:00

Every time I go to downtown Paris to shop or take care of business, I think how much fun it would be to live there. I think Randy and I would be good downtown loft-dwellers. I could ride my bike every day, to the post office, the farmer's market, the bank, the grocery store, the library, the wine bar.

But then I realize I'd be farther away from $tarbuck$. Oops.

And then I think about how much I love this house. And how we - and Sammie - would miss having a yard. And I'm growing vegetables this year! And I have a compost bin! And we just redid our bedroom, and the windows, and most of the front yard landscaping. And now we're about to start on the downstairs den.

Yep, the Summer Project is about to begin!

We're taking up the carpet and laying bamboo flooring. This will be our first time to lay flooring. We've done just about everything else I can think of - tile, wallpaper, plumbing, paint, drywall, faux stone, wiring, but we've never laid wood floors. Will be interesting. We...well, Randy...will scrape the ceiling, which will be a challenge, since it's so FAR FROM THE FLOOR. Then we'll paint, replace the French doors with a slider to match the one in the kitchen, rearrange the room to make it better for the new TV, and MAYBE replace the wood railing between the den and the kitchen with something a little more Mission style. That's still in discussion.

Randy said once that it's so odd that we keep saying how much we love this house, even as we have changed just about everything in it since we've lived here. Sometimes more than once.

I prefer to call it fine-tuning.

Because next? I want to stain the back patio, probably tile the front porch and stain the front walk, replace the trellis over the back deck, turn the greenhouse into a garden shed, build some raised planting beds for more vegetables, do that rain garden/dry creek bed thing Randy's been talking about for the marshy spots in the backyard...

Lucky Thirteen

2008-04-17T17:55:00.009-05:00

Randy and I were married on April 13, 1984.

It was a Friday.

Many people looked cross-ways at us when we set the date, but neither of us suffer from paraskevidekatriaphobia, and it was the only weekend night in April that was available at the place we wanted to use for the ceremony (Thistle Hill in Fort Worth). So we threw caution to the wind, cackled in the face of superstition, and set off on our journey. This means that last Sunday was our 24th anniversary.

Or as Randy put it, "8,766 days of pure...bliss. Counting leap years."

No, but really. There were so many things that could have kept these last 24 years from happening. Early on, when I said Carter, he could have said Reagan. When I said dogs, he could have said cats. When I said beach, he could have said mountains. When I said kids, he could have said you have nieces and nephews, don't you?

But he didn't say any of those things.

And while ALL those days maybe haven't been total bliss, the one thing we could count on is that we were in it together. From Texas to Virginia, to North Carolina, and back to Texas, we've been a team. And when the kids came, we were still a tight little group. And now that the kids are starting to stretch their wings, and our nest is a little closer to emptying, we're still in it together.

When the going was tough, we didn't give up on each other. On the balance sheet that is the last 24 years, there are millions more entries written in black ink than in red. I couldn't be prouder of the life we have built and the family we created. Together.

No one makes me laugh more, have to think faster, or want to work harder to learn new things to TRY to keep up. And there's no other hand I'd rather hold on to as we head in to the second half of our lives.

Happy anniversary, sweetie. I love you.

Milestones

2008-04-14T11:07:00.006-05:00

We spent the weekend in Tuscaloosa. It was A Day weekend (always a fine excuse for a visit) so we got to go to the spring training game (we won!!) plus the campus is a fun, fun place to be on a game weekend.

Then, in a happy turn of events, we also got to stay on Sunday for the spring 2008 Ring Ceremony, where Amanda received her University of Alabama Class of 2009 class ring!

I am so proud of her. After some initial missteps, she has found the field of study where she feels comfortable and can excel. She didn't let her early troubles and setbacks garbage up her mind and hold her back. She learned the value of perseverance, and discovered that she is much stronger than she had perhaps thought. What a bright future she has waiting for her.

James is approaching the last year of teenage-hood, and is finishing up his freshman year in fine fashion. He's learned a lot this year, both academically and on a personal level. He's expanded his culinary horizons (he ordered salmon at dinner the other night!) and he's benefited a good deal from the vast diversity that is dorm life at Alabama. There's not a wiser, funnier, more quick-witted kid in the world than he is. He's a cool guy to know.

There are a lot of things that I hope my kids have learned from us, but the one single thing that I hope they both will always remember and never forget is that their father and I are continually awed to see the people they have become. How blessed we are that two doofuses like us could have played a part in creating two so amazing human beings.

Size Matters

2008-04-10T08:59:00.003-05:00

Randy's been working diligently at losing weight, and so far he's lost 28 pounds! I'm very proud of him. He came downstairs this morning and started showing me how baggy his jeans are.

Me: Looks like you need to hike in your belt!
Him: But these are my new jeans!
Me: Really? Those are your Tommy Hilfigers? What size are they?
Him: 36, I think. A quick check verified this. But I think they're probably vanity sized.
Me: I never though of men's clothes as being vanity sized. Since they're sized by inches. I mean, a 36 is a 36.
Him: HONEY. When it comes to inches, all men have vanity.

Boy, I walked right into that one.

Dear Mark Cuban:

2008-03-30T23:29:00.003-05:00

Please consider this blog post as my request for press credentials to any upcoming Dallas Mavericks game. Per your own blog post of March 29th, you are throwing the whole experience wide open to any and all bloggers. Good for you! I love to watch the way you can take a directive from the NBA and tweak and turn it to make a point.

Am I qualified for this? Maybe. Please consider the following:

My writing qualifications? Well, I briefly considered a major in journalism when I was in college a million years ago, but came to my senses quickly. But I have had letters to the editor published in my local newspaper from time to time, and I've been writing this blog for a few years now. It’s no great shakes, but my family and friends seem to enjoy it.

My technology credentials? I spent the last eight years of my teaching career as a technology coordinator in the Paris Independent School District, where I repaired computers, taught other teachers to not be afraid of email, and showed 1st graders how to publish a picture to a website, among many other things. I even taught elementary school kids how to use spell check, which is more than many of your frequent commenters seem to have learned. I subscribe to your blog, and look forward to a new posting from you with much anticipation.

My sports qualifications? My husband and I lived in Charlotte in the late eighties, and we were charter season ticket holders with the Charlotte Hornets. Man, those were the good years, before George Shinn got WAY too full of himself. When the games were fun, even if we didn’t win. When 23,698 people booed Michael Jordan the first time the Bulls came to the Charlotte Coliseum.

Michael Jordan. In North Carolina. Because he wasn’t part of the home team anymore. It was AWESOME.

We took our 18 month old daughter to almost every freakin’ home game that first season. Pregnant with her brother during the whole season, I carried her up the stairs to our nosebleed seats, put her up on my shoulders for every national anthem, taught her to cheer for Muggsy Bogues, for Robert Reid, for Dell Curry – who I could not be any more tickled for, watching him watch his son Stephen take the NCAAs by storm in this year’s tournament. I gave Kurt Rambis a high five during an autograph event, after he pulled a pacifier out of a three-year-old’s mouth and told the embarrassed dad in line in front of me: “it’s just so gross to see one of those things hanging out of a kid’s mouth.”

We missed the final home game of the year that first season because I gave birth to our son that May. But on our first night in the hospital, I sat in my room with my newborn son and watched the Hornets on TV, telling him all about the players we would take him to see during the next season. And we did.

Now, can either of my kids talk to you about basketball these days? Not so much, but they’re both students at the University of Alabama, and they can sure talk some Crimson Tide football.

We were only season ticket holders for one more year in Charlotte, because we moved back to Texas, where we picked back up with our enthusiasm for the Mavericks. My husband was actually in attendance for the first Mavericks home game – we still have the medallion he got at that first game. But we weren’t dating then, and he took another girl, so we don’t talk about that much. But he did get to boo Kiki Vandewehge.

But we’ve been Mavs fans ever since, most especially so since you bought the team. I winced when you traded Steve Nash and Jason Kidd, but realized why you did. I cheered when you made Avery Johnson your Head Coach. I get tickled reading about your problems with the league, and your clever and creative ways of dealing with them. I roll my eyes frequently at David Stern and his pompous pronouncements. I learned to hate the Miami Heat when we were in Charlotte (since they came into the league the same year as the Hornets), and I hate them still. I groaned in disbelief when the Dallas city government announced - and the Dallas Morning News published - the route for the stinking victory parade after game 2 in 2006. They jinxed y’all. I still hold them solely responsible for the Mavs losing the Finals.

So what could my blogging do for the Mavericks? In a literal sense, nothing. I have never been able to tell a pick-and-roll from a zone defense, though God knows I have tried to make sense of it all. I can’t brown-nose you, because I know very few important people, except my husband and my kids. I don’t know anyone you know, unless your wife happens to be from the Paris area. Hey - it could happen. Troy Aikman’s wife grew up around here. I don’t know your brother, haven’t met anyone at the Indy Convention Center, and I don’t have a business plan to present to you that is sure to be the Next Big Thing since broadcast.com.

What I do have is a genuine interest in the Mavericks, and you, and other people who pursue professional sports as a way of life, whether as players, or owners, or in some other kind of a support role. Not in a “wow, how awesome you are!” kind of a way, but in how you conduct your lives, and how you interact with people who can ultimately do nothing for you.

I can write effectively, usually (I hope) with some semblance of humor. I could perhaps interpret the experience of being at a Mavs game from a different perspective for those who may not get the mechanics of what happens on the court, but who are still impressed and amazed at the drive and dedication of the people who choose to play.

I look forward to hearing from you.
Love,
cruisermom

Under the Boardwalk

2008-03-13T09:28:00.005-05:00

Well, okay, so there's not actually a boardwalk in Gulf Shores - YET, but we are heading to the sugar-white sands of lovely LA (that would be Lower Alabama, if you have not been lucky enough to make your way there) for tons of Spring Break fun. Got to wrap up the Aikin basket auction first (which has already proven NOT to be drama-free. Yippee.), then Friday morning, Randy and I will head east, and after their last classes are over, Amanda and James will head south, then we'll all get to spend a few fun in the sun days together. YAY!!!!!!!

So, no blogging for a little while, but you should check back for Twitter updates in the column to your right.....=======>>>>>>>

WHAT?!? You don't Twitter?!? Why ever not?!?

Counting Calories?? WOOF!

2008-03-06T17:59:00.004-06:00

Check this out - a new twist in doggie treats - the 50-calorie pack o'pupperoni.

Oh, please.

I do see the value in all the 100-calorie packs of snacks that are becoming prevalent on our grocery shelves, because they are handy and an easy way to sort of control a dieter's daily snack intake...but doggie treats?? Really? I should expect Sammie to start keeping a calorie journal? Because that lack of opposable thumbs is really gonna make those little bags tough for her to open.

Snow Day!

2008-03-04T09:42:00.003-06:00

In the weather wonderland that is Texas, we went from put-the-top-down-here-comes-spring weather on Saturday to what-the-heck-is-that-SLEET? weather on Monday evening. Sammie and I awoke to a couple of inches of snow on the ground this morning, so I was most interested in how she would react to snow.

She had a blast!

Click here for the whole album.

Oh, and GO VOTE!! And if you voted for a Democratic candidate and live in Texas, go back to your polling place tonight at 7 pm to caucus. It ain't over till it's over, and it won't be over until you caucus.

Courage and Convictions

2008-02-27T14:53:00.006-06:00

I hate confrontation. Seriously. There are few things in the world which I dislike more than I dislike confrontation.

That being said, it is perhaps also true that I have been known to do things that might possibly be perceived as mildly...provocative...but really with only the hope that somebody might find it amusing rather than offensive. But sometimes folks just find it - or me - plainly offensive.

I've had a rather difficult time this year deciding whom to support in the presidential race. I shall refer to my two choices as the Rock Star and the Queen Bee, because I don't want anyone who might have a Google Alert set up for either of them to flood my comments box with invective, as I have read that some of the Rock Star's fans tend to do. I don't normally find myself in a quandary, because I generally find only one person who has the qualities I can support - but since Elizabeth's husband has dropped out, and the former vice-president doesn't seem to want to run, I had to find someone else.

So I voted Monday for the Queen Bee in the Texas primary. And then, I put an "H-2008" sticker on the back window of my car.

Now, last election, I had a "J squared" sticker (get it? Kerry-Edwards? John and John? Heh.) on my car, and I got flipped off a few times, mostly by soccer moms with North Lamar stickers on their SUVs, but that's pretty much par for the course here in town. That's kind of a non-confrontational confrontation, and I was okay with that.

Today, however, I went to Walmart and parked in kind of the far corner of the lot, as I usually do (so I can get more steps in for the day), and as I got out of the car, there was a big ol' dually pickup that came up my lane. I noticed that it kind of slowed down as it passed my car. I kept walking toward the store when I heard this voice yelling "Lady! Hey lady!" I looked back, and the driver of the truck was yelling at me. I stopped, thinking maybe he'd noticed a problem with one of my tires or something, when he pulled up beside me and said, "what does that H2008 thing mean on that car? You ain't gon' vote fer that b**ch, are ya?"

Understand, now, in my mind I'm going HelpMeJesusHelpMeJesusHelpMeJesus, and I just kind of smile and keep on walking, but he keeps on talking: "HEY! You ain't gon' vote fer her, are ya? Cause that's just plain g*d-d**mned un-American."

And, frankly, that just kind of p*ssed me off. Because, on the short list of things I hate MORE than confrontation? Questioning my patriotism because I'm not a right-wing zealot is right there in the number one spot.

Personal aside: for Randy, my kids, and my friends, who are reading this and thinking I have gone completely nuts, it was 2:00 on a bright, sunny afternoon. I was pretty close to the store by this time, I could see other people around, and my cell phone was open, ready to dial for help if I needed to. AND I'm still going HelpMeJesusHelpMeJesusHelpMeJesus. No worries.

So I stopped, looked at him, and said: "no, sir, I'm not PLANNING to vote for her. I actually already have."

And he responded with a short string of profanities, followed by this sort of sneering question: "I bet you don't even believe in Jesus, do ya?"

And I kind of snickered, because me and Jesus, we'd been talking - a LOT - in those past few minutes.

"Why, yes, sir, I DO believe in Jesus," I replied. "Do you?"

Then I realized that that might have gotten me in trouble, so I started walking again. He sort of spewed more profanities, then sputtered, "h*ll yeah, I believe in Jesus." Those six words? Made Jesus so proud.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a kid out collecting carts, who was kind of looking towards us, like he might think I was in trouble, so - hoping that I could just end this - I said: "well then, the good thing for both of us is that when we get to heaven, Jesus isn't gonna ask us who we voted for, is He? He's just gonna say, 'come on in, I've been expecting you!'" And I turned and grabbed a stray cart (because I needed something to help support my by-then rubbery legs) and walked on toward the store. The guy floored his engine, went on to the end of the row and turned to head out to Lamar Avenue.

ThankYouJesusThankYouJesusThankYouJesus.

As I walked past the cart kid, he said, "everything all right today, ma'am?"

I took a deep breath and smiled. "Yes," I said, "I believe that it is."

How to Look Good: Ignoring the Voices in Your Head

2008-02-26T11:36:00.011-06:00

One of my favorite shows this year is How to Look Good Naked on Lifetime. I think Carson Kressley is a HOOT, and the show really brings an honest look at body image, and how women truly do not see themselves the way others see them. This has really struck home with me, in a pretty personal way.

All my life, I have struggled with my weight. When I was a kid, I was the "skinny" one. My mother used to make me chocolate milk every night before I went to bed, and she would stir about a half cup of Nestles Quik into the milk (I know this because I used to eat the undissolved Quik from the bottom of the glass), and she'd also stir an egg in there. A. Raw. Egg.

Because I was, you know, too skinny. And apparently, also resistant to salmonella.

But the thing was, I loved vegetables. And salad. When Daddy was sent to Miami to work, in late 1962, Mama and I went to stay with him for a little while. Long story, involving the Bay of Pigs and the Cuban Missile Crisis, but that's a story for another day. ANYWAY, Daddy had found this restaurant he knew I'd just love, because it had the first salad bar we'd ever seen. And he was right- I did love that place. It had lettuce and carrots and cucumbers and celery and radishes, all in huge silver bowls that YOU COULD GO BACK AND GET MORE FROM! AS MUCH AS YOU WANTED! ANYTIME YOU WANTED! FOR AS LONG AS YOUR PARENTS WOULD LET YOU STAY! I was in heaven.

And I was a pretty active kid. Those were the days when you'd ride your bike home from school, change clothes and go directly outside, where you stayed until somebody called you in for supper. In the summertime, Mama would send me outside after breakfast, and that would be about it until suppertime. There were always neighbor kids around, and nobody's mother would let us come in the house. I mean, we must have been FILTHY, and all the mothers had Just mopped the floor! Don't you dare come in this house!

Want a drink of water? There's the hose. A snack? Here's a sandwich - eat at the picnic table. Bathroom? Is it an emergency? Put on these flipflops and don't touch anything! I just mopped the floor!

When we moved to Naples, it was pretty much the same. We all walked to school, and after school, we'd play in the stairwells in our building all afternoon, until one of our mothers would open their door and yell (in English or Italian, depending on whose mother) at us to Be quiet, for crying out loud! Ai-yi-yi, la mia testa facente male! My aching head! Still, I was the skinny one.

Then came my sixth grade year, and I went to live with my aunts. Another long story, for another time. They were determined to put some weight on me, and boy, did they work hard at it. After school snacks of whole milk or Coca-Cola or both, with fig newtons toasted in a skillet with butter all over them. Cream cheese sandwiches. The vegetables I still loved, only cooked with bacon grease or butter, or salads drenched in mayonnaise-y dressings. And playing outside was a no-no, because young ladies don't get dirty. Sure enough, I pudged right on up, and they thought I was adorable.

Then that year of hog heaven ended, and Mama and Daddy and I moved to Enterprise and the farm. And I was active again, on the farm, and at school. I jogged regularly. I helped on the farm. I went back to eating raw vegetables. I was a healthy girl. But my mother, for various reasons, most of which (I know now) had nothing at all to do with me, but mostly to do with her own unhappiness, devoted a good bit of time to telling me how fat I was. And how she'd love me more if I'd just lose some of that weight. And wouldn't it be nice if I was thin like her friend's daughters - their mothers were so proud of them, and she'd love to be proud of me like that.

All through high school, that's the message I heard more than any other. That I wasn't...enough, somehow. That the good grades, or the stuff I did at church, or anything else that I did, just wasn't enough for my mother. And I believed it. I wondered how in the world would I ever find somebody to love me when I looked like I did. I'd end up an old maid schoolteacher, dried up and hopeless, and all because I was so fat.

Stay with me here...I know this is depressing, but I'm getting to my point. I was going through some old picture albums last weekend, and I found some pictures that I probably haven't looked at since before Randy and I married. I found one that just floored me. This picture was taken at Christmas during my senior year - 1972.

I know - some of you have never seen me with hair that dark!

But here's my point: I weighed 125 pounds. All through high school. And I wonder how much of my weight struggle - the blimping up and the thinning down I have done through the years - could have been avoided if I'd had a mental picture then of what I actually looked liked, rather than what my mother's voice in my head was telling me.

I wish I'd been able to watch Carson Kressley back then.

Interesting Things Sammie & I See on Our Walks

2008-02-19T16:56:00.002-06:00

Today was trash day. Sammie loves Tuesdays and Fridays, because there are so many more interesting smells than usual. I enjoy them because I get to see what my neighbors throw away. Today we saw one home throwing away four empty 24 packs of Bud Light, and an empty, Sam's-sized case of Depends. Must have been a large weekend at that house.

Randy thinks I can find a conspiracy under every rock. But I can't help but wonder: Could these two things be related, somehow?

Resting on Our Laurels

2008-02-18T20:53:00.005-06:00

Literally. Resting.

We have finished the Big Bedroom Makeover, except for the last little details - filling and painting the nail holes in the baseboards, a couple of prints that need to be professionally framed, and a recliner that needs to be picked up and brought home - and our latest project will be done. It has turned out even better than we had hoped. Paula and Denise came by tonight to pick me up for dinner, and agreed that it finally looks like us.

Frank Lloyd Wright has arrived safely in Tuscany.

La stanza è molto bella e stiamo godendo felicemente "riposarsi" sui nostri allori. The room is very beautiful, and we are happily enjoying "resting" on our laurels.

Giving, Squared.

2008-02-04T15:34:00.000-06:00

So I used up my whole year's allotment of exclamation points in my post about my XO computer....so sorry. In my defense, it was late, I was tired, and it really is just the coolest little thing.

And while the computer itself IS neat, Denise is right....the actual GIVING part is even neater. I like thinking that somewhere in the world, some little kid is opening his or her computer for the first time (she'll probably figure out how a little more quickly than I did), and turning it on with as much excitement as I had when I opened mine.

I hope that one of the things he learns with it, is that somebody else, somewhere in the world, cares.

I Gave One...and I GOT ONE!!!!!!

2008-02-01T23:32:00.000-06:00

I am posting this from my new XO laptop!!! I have pictures, but I'm going to have to post them from my desktop in just a second. Later, I will figure out how to do that from here, but it's nearly midnight, and I want to get this up and go to bed! We just drove in from Lubbock...and this was on the front porch!! I have my Moto Q to thank for my ability to type on this itty-bitty keyboard!

Oh my goodness, it is just unbelievably cool!

"I Like Taking Credit for Things!"

2008-01-23T19:36:00.000-06:00

Amanda is taking a history class this year called "New Right, New Left" (or it's "New Left, New Right." I get it mixed up.) that is a study of the political parties in the US since the beginning of the 20th century. She finds it quite interesting, I think, particularly in light of the fact that this will be the first presidential election she will be able to vote in. To a large extent, it's a discussion class with a LOT of writing, and they've been discussing LBJ and Martin Luther King and the Civil Rights movement lately.

She called today and asked if I had seen The Colbert Report last night. I had not, but it was on the DVR. She said I should be sure and watch it, because Andrew Young was Stephen's guest, and that he (Stephen) kind of broke character during the interview. I was curious, so I made sure to watch it tonight.

If you know me, you know that I have long loved Stephen Colbert. I have always admired not only his quick wit, and his outlook on the world, but I have also loved to see what happens when his STEPHEN COLBERT persona slips, and you get a glimpse of the real Stephen Colbert.

I think we saw that on last night's episode. Stephen and Andrew Young have quite an interesting link.

And then he interviews Andrew Young. His wit comes through in the interview, along with his obvious respect for Mr. Young, but there's also an honest earnestness there:

It was all summed up for me with this one question: "Do you remember my father?" Just imagine - being able to speak with a man who is one of the icons of the American Civil Rights movement, and hearing this response to your question: "Yes, I do. I remember him very, very well."

Stephen is the youngest of 11(!) children, and he actually was born during the time period in which his father and Andrew Young were negotiating the strike settlement. When Stephen was only 10, his father and two of his brothers were killed in a plane crash just outside Charlotte. What a gift it must have been for Stephen to be able to hear someone like Andrew Young speak so admiringly of his father.

And then, in a singularly Colbert-ian touch, he ended the show with a musical tribute that was certainly funny, but also surprising, and touching as he paid tribute to the writing staff he surely misses.

It is SO time for the writers to return. I really miss Tonight's Word.

Construction Zone

2008-01-20T14:50:00.000-06:00

For as long as they've been old enough to form their own opinion about design elements, our kids have hated our master bedroom. Oh, they liked the bedroom itself well-enough, but the color? The "decor"? Blech. Gag. And when they discovered that Paula and Ben agreed with them, all the better. Randy and I have never really understood what they object to. I mean, EVERYBODY has a four-foot by three-foot Coca-Cola Santa advertisement on one of their bedroom walls, right?!? Maybe not. But it works for us. And we are the ones who sleep there. Besides Sammie, but she hasn't expressed an opinion one way or the other. Since we redid the bathroom - which EVERYBODY agrees is wonderful - they've been all over us to redo the bedroom.

So, what the heck. We haven't had a really major home improvement project going for a while now. I painted that room when we moved in, 14 years ago, and we really haven't done anything in there since then. And the bed...let's just say that in 1983, when we bought it, it was a right stylin' waterbed. We replaced the water mattress with a real one when we moved into this house, but still.

We've decided on a style that can probably best be described as Frank Lloyd Wright Goes to Tuscany. We ordered furniture from Stacy Furniture in Allen (where the motto is "If you're not shoppin' with us...you're burnin' money!"). A whole, honest-to-goodness bedroom suite! We've never had bedroom furniture that matches! It will be delivered on February 5th, so we have a definite date to be finished with everything else.

Randy is taking all the popcorn off the ceiling in the bedroom and bathroom, and I'm cleaning up after him. He's got a couple of thoughts about a ceiling treatment, but that hasn't come together yet for him. I'm not worried. He always comes up with terrific ideas. On the bedroom walls, I'm going to do a paint treatment from Behr called "Bellagio Faux" in a kind of deep-golden color combination that blends with the bathroom, but has its own particular style. The wall behind the bed presents a unique challenge. It had grasscloth when we moved in - real grasscloth, not the vinyl fake stuff. I painted it, and always thought it looked fine. But it's gonna have to go, and it won't come down without a stinkin' messy fight. We thought about just drywalling over it, but have instead decided to put up a faux stacked stone wall. Unusual? Perhaps. But, AGAIN. It works for us. And I think it'll look just doggone awesome.

We bought several neat prints and some vintage advertising posters in Greece and Italy, and I'll frame those for the walls. Can't get away from the ads. Nope. Can't do it. It's just who we are and what we like.

With a definitive date to be done, we've got a lot of work in front of us! We've got to find somebody to haul this bed away (anybody want a vintage 1980s SOLID oak waterbed frame? It would make good firewood.), and a lot of other stuff to move, sell, and/or donate. But the end result will be well-worth it, I think. And it oughta keep the kids and Paula satisfied for a while!

Santa may not make it back into this room when it's finished, but he'll find a home here somewhere. Count on it.

New Routines

2008-01-17T15:59:00.000-06:00

Miss Sammie seems to be settling in nicely around here. She's been a very easy dog. She's obviously a creature of habit, and since I do like my routines, it works well for both of us!

The absolute funniest thing is this: she's learned that every morning, I do pretty much the same thing. I get up, get dressed, eat breakfast while I read the newspaper and watch/listen to Mike and Mike on ESPN2, and when I am finished with that, I take her for a walk.

So she just kind of hangs out, either in the kitchen or downstairs in the den, until I get up and either give the rest of the paper to Randy, if he's home, or put it in the recycle basket. Then Sammie goes into overdrive! She just knows that her walk is FINALLY about to happen, and she runs and jumps and looks about as happy as a dog can look. And when I get the leash off the hook, she jumps and jumps until she finally remembers that I won't put the leash on her until she's still, so she sits and lets me snap on the leash, and then we're off!!

It was too, too funny on Sunday - her internal clock must've been telling her that it was about time for me to be done, because she started getting kind of restless and pawing and nosing at me. I tried to explain that on Sunday, we get TWO papers, and they're both a good bit bigger than normal! I'm not sure she quite got my point, but we went for a little bit longer walk to make up for it.

We walk most of Morningside now, and I keep extending it a little further each week, until I hope for us to be able to walk up 42nd St. to Lamar, then back down at least to Brandyn and back up 38th St. to home. That ought to be a mile and a half or two miles.

This is great for me. I've been wanting to walk more, and since Sammie so obviously loves it, it's quite the motivation to get on out there and go! So far, we've walked in the rain (it didn't start to rain until we were more than halfway through, so there wasn't anything else to do but keep on going!) and in really cold and windy weather. I hate to disappoint her, but I'm telling you - my face was freezing this morning when we got back home! I'm not sure what I will do when the day comes that the weather is really too bad to go out. I don't believe Sammie will accept "Sorry, Pup, Mom just doesn't want to go out today!"

Wired!

2008-01-10T15:03:00.000-06:00

The kids and I gave Randy an iPod Touch for Christmas. After a tutorial from James, along with helpful hints from Amanda and me...looks like he's settling in to the Wired World nicely!!

Best Available

2008-01-01T15:50:00.000-06:00

We went to the Independence Bowl on Sunday to see Bama play the Colorado Buffaloes. As people around us found their seats, one of our neighbors was most displeased with his seats: "I ordered these tickets online within 15 minutes of the time they went on sale, and the website said I'd get the best available!! THIS was the best available that soon after tickets went on sale?!?" Everyone around us laughed and agreed that we had all done the same thing - gotten the Best Available.

They weren't the greatest seats, to be sure, near the top of the stadium, and at the far end of the upper tier of seats. Randy teased that he'd start using that as his excuse... sorry these flowers are wilted, honey, but they were the best available! Heh-heh.

But you know what? The weather was good, the people around us were all friendly and enthusiastic Bama fans, and Bama won the game, so I think there wasn't anything any of us would have changed by the end of the evening. The Best Available really wasn't that bad at all.

So that got me thinking, here on the first day of this new year: How would our outlook on life change if we adopted Best Available as our philosophy of life?

Think about it: for most of our lives, we make choices without ever really knowing if we're making the correct ones. Choices both big and small. Paper or plastic? Democrat or Republican? Do I...pick this major, quit that job, marry this person, move to that city, eat this box of chocolates, take that trip? Sometimes we know right away if we made the right choice (I can't believe I ate the whole thing!), but oftentimes we don't know until months or even years later whether or not we've chosen wisely.

We can worry, second-guess ourselves, worry, fret, then worry some more - but frequently, the passage of time is the only judge.

How does Best Available fit into all this worrying? It doesn't, and that's the point.

When we make a choice, a decision, the Best Available philosophy tells us we need to examine the situation, weigh our options, then make the best decision we can, based on everything we know at that moment.

And then let it go, and see where it takes us. That's the hard part!

When we moved to Paris in 1990, it was with every intention of reopening the Wendy's in Paris. We examined, researched, weighed options, and made our choice. Our Best Available decision was to pack up the babies, the schnauzer, and everything we owned that would fit into a 25 foot Ryder rent truck, and hit the road back to Texas. When the Wendy's thing didn't work out quite like we planned, we swallowed hard, then looked around to see where our decision was taking us.

It took us to a really nice life. Certainly, there have been bumps and bruises, and even some pretty deep cuts, along the way, but ultimately, we can look back and see how well it all worked out.

Best Available doesn't mean settling. It doesn't mean just not making any decision and lollygagging around, waiting to see how it all works out.

It DOES mean doing your research. Your due-diligence. Asking for advice. Seeking a mentor. Praying.

Can a Best Available decision turn out badly? Surely it can. A bad job. A harmful relationship. The wrong...box of chocolates. But in just about every situation, even if the choice is a bad one, if we can LEARN from it, then nothing that happened was in vain.

So. Best Available. Do your homework, swallow hard, and make your decision.

Because even if your seats aren't all that good, you'll still be in the arena for a terrific show.

"It was not the life I planned, but it is the life I have."

2007-12-29T16:40:00.000-06:00

"My husband and children accept and understand that my political responsibilities to the people of Pakistan come first, as painful as that personally is to all of us. I would like to be planning my son's move to his first year at college later this month, but instead I am planning my return to Pakistan and my party's parliamentary election campaign.

I didn't choose this life. It chose me." Benazir Bhutto (1953-2007) (Written on September 1, 2007, and published on The Huffington Post)

She was born the month before Randy.

Her son entered his freshman year in college at the same time James did.

Say what you will - and I don't pretend to understand all the underlying political implications - but she was one hell of a woman to make the choice to return to Pakistan, knowing that in all likelihood she would not survive.

And With Thy Heart As Offering

2007-12-21T11:41:00.000-06:00

Seems to me that all too often we make things more complicated than they need to be. Maybe we could try to realize that even if someone sees things in a different way than we do...we're still looking at the same thing.

This is Tennessee Ernie Ford, singing "Some Children See Him." This was a live broadcast of The Ford Show, on December 25, 1958. The little boy in his lap is Jon Provost, who played Timmy in the old Lassie series. Look for Lassie herself sleeping among the other children. Click here if the video doesn't load.

How wonderful this is! Merry Christmas!!

Samantha...New!

2007-12-18T16:20:00.000-06:00

Meet the newest addition to the Reed family! She is Samantha Gorgeous Reed, and we found her at the Animal Shelter yesterday. Her Samantha name came from Will Smith's dog in "I Am Legend," which James saw on Saturday, and Gorgeous is what Amanda has called her from the beginning. We call her Sam, or Sammie. She was an owner surrender, meaning that she was brought in by her previous owners, who told the shelter that the husband has heart trouble, and they couldn't take care of her any longer.

She's about two years old, and has obviously been cared for. She is housebroken (although I'm still a little jumpy about that), and she understands "NO". This is SUCH a good thing.

She apparently is accustomed to sleeping on the bed. When Randy and I went to bed last night, after making a nice little pallet for her on the floor - where she immediately laid down, causing us to prematurely think we were home free - we turned out the light, she waited about a two-count, then hopped right up on to the bed, laid down...and stayed there until about 6:30 this morning.

She is just so mellow. Seems really happy to be here, becomes very concerned when someone leaves the room, already is attached to Randy, but is quite fond of the rest of us, too. Hangs out with James in his room, watching movies. Tries to climb up on Amanda to get closer to her face for kisses. She has slept quite a bit, and while I attribute some of that to being exhausted from her whole adoption ordeal, it appears that she'd just as soon hang out in the house with us as sniff around the back yard.

She is not Cinnamon, and while we really didn't want her to be, it looks like she's a really good fit for us. It was just one of those meant to be kind of things - the kids are home, Randy will be here for a couple of weeks, and we were all really missing having a dog around. She arrived at the shelter on Friday, and we found her on Monday.

Sammie will be a really great dog for all of us. She has landed in a really good place, and we are just happy as clams to have her here!

Neither bare, nor naked, nor even ladies

2007-12-11T10:36:00.000-06:00

Okay, so it's a bootlegged video of a live performance, and not a particularly good one at that...but a really FABULOUS rendition of a couple of my favorite Christmas songs. It's Barenaked Ladies featuring Sarah MacLachlan.

A MUCH better studio version is available on iTunes (without the video) from the album "Barenaked for the Holidays."

UPDATE: If the video doesn't work, try copying and pasting this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=unLYrtx8aKA

Cause and Effect

2007-12-09T12:30:00.000-06:00

Our tenants have moved out of Brandyn, and the guy tells Randy "you probably want to have the air conditioner checked. It runs all the time, and our power bills have been real high." We thought that to be odd, as we had replaced the whole unit, inside and out, about 9 months ago.

So in our normal cleaning up process, we changed the filters. Here's a picture of the ones we took out. Hm-m-m...

Acronym of the Day

2007-12-06T09:35:00.000-06:00

WOMBAT:

Waste of money, brains, and time. As in: The trip to Denver was not a total WOMBAT, because the new commercials are pretty cool, but Erik Weihenmayer and Buzzword Bingo were really the only other highlights to be found."

Two Things

2007-11-30T15:42:00.000-06:00

I will miss this Christmas:

Hiding a squeaky toy in the top branches of the Christmas tree.

Uncle Bill's Godiva Chocolates.

Delicious Irony

2007-11-09T21:40:00.001-06:00

Reckon there's a recipe for Forbidden Fruit Jam in the cookbook?!?

We saw this in Dumas, Texas, this week.

Delilah, here's to you...

2007-11-02T22:32:00.000-05:00

This summer, one of the songs the kids listened to frequently was "Hey There Delilah," by a group called Plain White T's. It's just a lovely little acoustic love song that to me is one of those timeless kind of songs - if you didn't already know, you might think it was from the sixties or seventies, and I came to love it as much as the kids did.

When Randy and I were in Rome, we left our tour and walked to the Hard Rock Cafe on the Via Veneto in search of Amanda's souvenir bear. If you've ever been to a Hard Rock, you know that what you usually hear on the sound system is mostly LOUD classic rock, and after a while it just becomes the same-old, same-old noise that just kind of fades into the background. So I found the bear and picked out some t-shirts, and while I was standing in line to pay, the noise went silent...and then, the opening guitar line, and Tom Higginson's quiet voice: Hey there, Delilah, what's it like in New York City? and I nearly lost it.

We were on the next to the last day of a long, incredibly wonderful trip, and I was rather tired and mildly homesick, but when I heard the song that the kids and I had enjoyed together all summer, I thought: "This is such a perfect moment. Here I am, and way over there they are, and even here there is something that connects us."

I told them about it when we got home, and they thought that was sort of cool also, in a gee, isn't our Mom odd? kind of way.

Tonight, they went on a road trip. They've been looking forward to this for months now. Fall Out Boy is in concert at the Wharf in Orange Beach, and being the FOB fans that they are, they bought tickets and went. They're staying at Grand Beach for the weekend. They had said that Plain White T's were going to open for FOB, and they promised they'd take a picture for me.

But then something even better happened: Amanda called about 8:15, and when I answered, what did I hear? Tom Higginson again: Hey there Delilah...what's it like in New York City? She kept the phone on for the whole song, and cool thing at the end - instead of "Hey there Delilah, here's to you," he sang, "Hey Alabama, here's to you," and I could hear the crowd just go nuts.

At the end of the song, she hung up, and then seconds later came a text message: LYB! which is our shorthand for love you bunches

And my tears just flowed. It was one of those sweet reminders that even when I am here and they are way over there, these two kids - no, these young adults, whom I so adore - and I still have things that connect us.

A thousand miles seems pretty far,
But they've got planes and trains and cars
I'd walk to you if I had no other way.

More Baby Steps, With Help

2007-10-23T11:21:00.000-05:00

Very often, something nice happens when you start making an effort to change. People you know start trying to help you out!

After my last post, Denise commented that they take newspapers from the high school to Christians in Action for recycling, so I called them to get more details. Turns out, they take more than just newsprint - also cardboard, plastics, and aluminum! So recycling CAN be done locally - what a great thing this is! Already got a basket for newspapers in the den, and I'll figure out a way to keep the other stuff corralled for what I hope will be weekly trips to CIA.

Then, last week I was in my favorite coffee place...★$$... and I was telling Roger, their crackerjack manager, that I've started working on not throwing away so much stuff, and he said "wait here for just a second!" He went into the back and came out with this neat, washable container that holds my Iced Venti Latte just perfectly. So now I pull up, place my order and say "I've got my cup!" and they wait till I get to the window, then make my drink right in the cup for me. Extremely awesome.

Who knew being "conservative" could be so much fun!

Baby Steps

2007-10-16T17:01:00.000-05:00

When I was a kid, and when my kids were kids, we used to sing this song in Vacation Bible School:

This is my Father's world,
and to my listening ears
all nature sings, and round me rings
the music of the spheres.
This is my Father's world:
I rest me in the thought
of rocks and trees, of skies and seas;
his hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father's world,
the birds their carols raise,
the morning light, the lily white,
declare their maker's praise.
This is my Father's world:
he shines in all that's fair;
in the rustling grass I hear him pass;
he speaks to me everywhere.

Lately, I've been thinking about the words of this song in terms of what our responsibilities are to the earth we live on. It seems to me that environmentalism has become, to many on the religious and/or political right, something that's considered silly or trivial or even somehow evil, but at most, unnecessary. As if we oughtn't concern ourselves with caring for the environment because, you know, what's going to happen is going to happen.

I dunno.

Because, if we take the lyrics of the hymn to heart? This IS our Father's world. If we accept that, then aren't we compelled to act? To be good stewards of the "rocks and trees...skies and seas" that were wrought by His hand? Isn't that the Christian thing to do?

I am as guilty as anyone of being wasteful. Of throwing something away when I could do something else with it instead of consigning it to the dump. Of turning down the air conditioner instead of turning up the ceiling fan. Of driving to places I could walk to. Of tossing ink cartridges in the trash instead of taking them to Office Max to be recycled.

So I'm taking baby steps. Gotta start somewhere.

Paris doesn't offer any kind of a recycling program that I know of, so we're sending a LOT of paper, glass and plastic to the landfill that I wish we weren't. Maybe that will come. We live about a quarter mile (as the crow flies) from Walmart. It's a good bit longer walking, I'll grant you that...but I'll bet if I walked there instead of driving, I'd make a list, and then shorten it, if I knew I had to walk home carrying what I bought! I have purchased some reusable string bags to help eliminate the Walmart bags that have threatened at times to take over the kitchen. I'm trying to use more Tupperware and less plastic wrap and ziploc bags. Fewer paper towels and more cloth towels. We've replaced almost all of our incandescent bulbs with CFLs. I'm trying to think ahead before I get in the car, so that I combine errands instead of going one place on one trip. I'm trying to talk Randy into buying one of the little Smartfortwo cars and giving up a larger car, but I'm not having luck on that front. So far. We've almost (but not totally) eliminated the need for electric heat with our propane logs and some really wonderful down comforters! I'm reading Hints from Heloise - go ahead and laugh, but she was a woman ahead of her time, and so is her daughter - for tips on using regular, more earth-friendly household items like vinegar and baking soda to do things we've been buying too many cleaning chemicals to do.

Baby steps.

Right after we got back from Europe, Randy and I read an article in The Dallas Morning News that really resonated with us. One of the points the author made was that "conservative" means something different to most Europeans than to most Americans. He speaks of a conversation with his German father-in-law like this: "In a revealing moment, my father-in-law pointed to the solar panels and the wood piles and the gardens and the compost heaps and told me that they were conservative – meaning that they represented the effort to conserve the goods of life, to preserve a community that can sustain itself and to pass on a cultural inheritance that has been bestowed upon them."

I freely admit that I am a child of technology. I love what technology has brought to our lives. We have so many things we don't NEED, but which make our lives so much more pleasant. I adore our DVR. Do I need it? Um-m-m...no. Do I need a dishwasher? A clothes dryer? Well, not in the strictest sense, but PLEASE let's don't get ridiculous here.

What I want to do - and what I am coming to believe is my responsibility as a citizen, as a Mom, and as a follower of Christ - is to recognize what I can do to be a conservator of my Father's world. I'd like for Jackson and Ethan, for my great-nieces and great-nephews, and for my grandkids...my FAR IN THE FUTURE grandkids...to be able to sing "This is My Father's World" and for them to be able to see for themselves what wonders His Hand has wrought.

Scenes from a Happy Life

2007-08-25T16:48:00.000-05:00

October 1994:

Mom: "We'd like a girl puppy. A sweet one that will love the kids."

Nice Lady in Lake Creek who raised Golden Retrievers: "I only have two girls right now. This one is big and feisty and will be a fun dog for the kids. That one over there is the runt of the litter. She's so small, I almost hate to let her go. I don't think she'll make it."

Mom: "We'll take THAT one. She needs us. We need her. She's
perfect."

Ten Minutes Later:

Nice Lady: "This dog is a retriever. So when your Daddy shoots a duck, this dog will be able to swim out into the pond and fetch it and bring it back."

Kindergarten James (in a horrified tone): "My Daddy would NEVER shoot a duck!"

Summer, 1998:

6th grade Amanda: "Mom!! Cinnamon got out of the yard!! The boys are chasing her down the street!"

Mom (on seeing James, Philip, Zac, Reece, Elizabeth, Sarah and Jeffrey running after a delighted dog): "Guys! Don't run after her! She thinks you're racing! Turn around and run this way!"

She still beat them all home.

Christmas, 2001:

Gulf Shores State Park Ranger: "Ma'am, you may not know this, but there's a state law outlawing dogs on the beach. It's a $500 fine."

Mom: "Oh, I apologize, sir. We didn't know. We'll drag her out of the water and take her on home."

7th grade James: "That's a stupid law."

Thanksgiving, 2002:

Dad: "Let's take Cinnamon out to the beach."

10th grade Amanda: "Dad! Remember the $500 fine!!"

Dad: "I'll pay the damn fine if I have to. She loves walking on the beach."

8th grade James: "It's a stupid law anyway."

September, 2005:

Amanda has just left for college. Cinnamon walks into her room, walks around, sniffs, comes into the office and glares at Mom as if to say: "Hello-o-o? Am I the only one who realizes that someone is missing??"

July, 2007:

College Freshman James: "I wish I could freeze some of Cinnamon's blood, so that when I have kids, I could clone her so they could have a dog like mine."

August 25, 2007:

Randy (in an email to our friends): "As a friend of the family, I wanted to let you know that Cinnamon Sugar Reed passed away this morning just six days shy of her 13th birthday. Cinnamon stayed with us long enough to get both of her kids out of the house, and safely to college. I believe that Cinnamon lived a life that many dogs would have loved, and yet still gave much more than she got."

Flashback to 1994:

Nice Lady: "Now, if this puppy doesn't make it, you be sure and come back out here and I'll let you pick out another pup. I want you folks to get your money's worth."

Oh, my. Did we ever.

Come with me to the Emerald City

2007-08-14T12:14:00.001-05:00

Amanda and I just got back from our whirlwind tour of the Windy City! WE SAW WICKED!!!! It was stunning. Just absolutely stunning.

I'll finish this later. Just wanted to get the picture up before we leave - TOMORROW - for Tuscaloosa.

Mercy me.

All Is Well.

2007-07-21T08:43:00.001-05:00

Indeed.

Harry Potter and the Lousy, Stinking Spoilers

2007-07-20T09:25:00.000-05:00

When James was, I think, eight years old, we were browsing the book aisle at Sam's one day, and he said "Hey! This is the book that Connor is reading. Can I get it?" Seeing as how James was never hugely into reading the way Amanda was, I bought the book since he was so excited about it, without a clue as to the path we were all going to be heading down.

The book was Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, and it changed our lives.

Perhaps that's a tad melodramatic.

But the Harry Potter series HAS been a source of great pleasure to us all, even Randy, who dutifully goes to the movies with us, and has listened to the audio books on some of his long drives. The kids and I have enjoyed midnights together at Walmart, waiting for them to move the pallet of books to the front and open it to the delight of the waiting crowds. We always buy three books. We each read one, the kids keep theirs, and I send mine on to the Aikin library. We have laughed and cried together, we've shared theories and hopes about upcoming plot points. We have emailed each other articles about J.K. Rowling and the books and the movies.

James always gets both the US version and the UK version, thanks to amazon.uk. This has really been his deal, although Amanda and I really enjoy Harry too. James was about the age of Harry when he started reading the books, and he's sort of grown along with the characters. And now, he's graduating and going off at the same time Harry is growing up and going out on his own. It's pretty much a perfect circle for kids - boys, especially, of James' age.

We have been in a state of great anticipation since the announcement of the release date for the final book in the series, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and we've made plans for our last trip to Walmart together tonight, then home, where James plans to read all night. Amanda wants to stay up, but poor thing has to work tomorrow, so won't be able to finish it until tomorrow night. I'll stay up as long as I can, but Randy and I need to go to Hot Springs tomorrow for a meeting. I've told Randy he will have to drive, and I will fight my tendency to carsickness the whole way, so that I can read as well. He understands, and even promises to bring dinner in to the condo so that I don't have to stop reading. He's very good about that.

I've been so disappointed in the last few days to see all the spoilers popping up everywhere on the internet, and in the press. What's the point?!? Why can't people leave well-enough alone? Harry Potter is not the Pentagon Papers, nor the Starr Report nor even Dick Cheney's written confession that W. is a robot he's been operating for years. For crying out loud - it's a popular book, and the author and the publishers have asked that shippers and booksellers and reviewers wait until everyone can have access at the same time. I've been afraid to click on anything on the internet, for fear that I'd hit a spoiler...and I want to read the book first!!!! It's just sad when people think that just because they can, also means they should.

Let us have our fun.

Let us celebrate the end of a series that has changed the way young people read.

Let my kids and me have our one last night at Walmart, waiting to read and share with each other the end of the spectacular tale of the Boy Who Lived.

Like ants out of the anthill...so are my thoughts...

2007-05-31T13:42:00.000-05:00

I've had all these random thoughts lately that individually aren't enough to constitute a post, but as a list....probably don't constitute a post, either, but whatever.

My thoughts on:

Lindsey Lohan: Lord, but she was cute in The Parent Trap. What the heck happened? AND WHERE IN GOD'S NAME IS HER MOTHER??? Oh, right...partying hearty right along beside her. Little Lindsey has not been well-served by the people who are supposed to love her the most.

Melinda Doolittle: My favorite American Idol. She wuz robbed!! Get this girl into a recording studio YESTERDAY.

Star Wars: My favorite movie. 30 years. Mercy me.

Mike and Mike in the Morning: My new favorite morning show.

Gene Simmons' Family Jewels: My new favorite DVR show. Move over, Dog. Good boy.

Comic Life: My new favorite time-waster. Thanks a BUNCH, Dee. Really.

Amanda: My new favorite Wal-mart cashier!

The Excellent Adventure:

What a strange and wonderful trip this will be!! The fun starts Saturday...

Pomp and Circumstance

2007-05-26T07:24:00.000-05:00

They let him graduate!! And I only teared up once.

They (heart) N.Y.

2007-05-05T08:21:00.000-05:00

The band kids and grownups just got back from their whirlwind tour of New York City. GREAT fun was had by all.

James called on Sunday morning: "Hey, I'm just walking around Central Park."

That's great! How cool is that! Are y'all having a good time? Everybody being where they're supposed to be?

"Yeah, we're on our way to Strawberry Fields. Thought you'd appreciate that. Did I mention, I'M WALKING AROUND CENTRAL PARK?!?"

You did actually mention that. You can shut up now.

Wishes and Prayers

2007-04-19T08:00:00.000-05:00

When Amanda was two months old, we came back to Texas to show her off. See?!? We finally did something good!! We stayed for a few days at Neil and Donna's, where they were getting Barry ready to go on a church skiing trip.

"How can you do that?" I asked Donna. "Put him on a bus to go away to God knows where (actually? Breckenridge) all by himself?"

"You just kiss 'em good-bye, and pray a lot," she answered. Good Lord, I thought, what a heartless, uncaring mother my sister-in-law has turned out to be.

Well...NO. Of course she wasn't. I've thought about that a LOT in these recent springtime days, beginning with the Enterprise tornado, through the...um-m-m...unpleasantness here in Lamar County , and now this week in Blacksburg. How CAN we do that, we parents? Just put our babies on a figurative or literal bus, to go away to God knows where, all by themselves?

How hard was it for me to say to James as I sent him off to dear old P-High, amid swirling rumors that hundreds of protesters waited to block entry to the parking lot, "Be aware. If you see trouble, you be the one to walk the other way, and take all your friends with you." When, what I really wanted to do? Was to say, "this is not your fight. Stay home. Watch Smallville all day. School will be there tomorrow. Or if not tomorrow, then another day."

How much, can you even begin to imagine, do the parents of the eight kids in Enterprise desperately wish for another day, another lifetime to say I love you. Have fun. Be careful. Do your best. See you this afternoon.

Or the parents of the thirty-two in Blacksburg.

THIRTY-TWO. Lord Jesus.

What do they wish for? My mind reels to think of it: A different school choice. A class at a different time of the day. Another weekend at home. One more argument. PLEASE. Just let me see him roll his eyes at me one more time. One more hug. One more chance to say, I am so proud of you. You take my breath away.

Randy is amused that I follow Amanda's car out to the street as she pulls away to go back to Tuscaloosa, and that I will watch until she turns the corner and the little crimson car disappears from view. He DOES understand, albeit in a good-natured, must be a mom thing kind of way, that I just need to see her for those last few seconds. One more glimpse. One more heartbeat.

You just kiss 'em good-bye, and pray a lot.

Keep 'em safe, Lord. And bring them - ALL OF THEM - safely home...

I Want...

2007-03-22T16:36:00.000-05:00

...Elizabeth Edwards to be our First Lady. And if she goes ahead and brings John along, so much the better. There is much to admire there.

Please, Lord, take care of them both.

Who Says....

2007-02-25T11:15:00.000-06:00

...you can't teach an old dog a new trick!

Here is Cinnamon and her new Carpeted Telescoping Ramp.

The coolest dogs always have all the latest equipment!

At her yearly checkup, we discovered that Cinnamon is suffering from severe hip dysplasia and osteoarthritis. I had noticed that her back legs were giving her problems, especially on stairs, and also just after waking up - trying to get up and move around is tough on her. Dr. White showed me her x-rays, and it was quite obvious even to me that her hips are badly deteriorated. We've started her on Rimadyl and glucosamine, and I think I've seen some improvement in her mobility, although I'm afraid I'm just trying to convince myself that she's getting better.

Cinnamon will be 13 this year. A ripe old age for any dog, but really quite old for a larger breed like she is. We are going to be dealing with quality of life/end of life issues with her soon, and my heart breaks to think of it. I'll notice Randy looking at her, and then he'll look at me, and I'll say, "Stop. Just don't even..." as if not saying it will keep it from happening. I tell Dr. White that she will live forever, and he always smiles gently and says "Cinnamon is such a good girl."

That she is.

And if a silly Carpeted Telescoping Ramp for the van will help us take her along for one more Spring Break trip to the beach, then she will go.

For as many more trips as our Good Girl has left in her.

A Lump in My Throat the Size of a Good Dog

2007-01-30T16:31:00.000-06:00

So I'm eating my lunch today in the kitchen, watching Animal Planet, and this commercial comes on. The bite of salad on the fork in my hand never did get eaten, because I dropped it in my search for a Kleenex. I still can't watch this without getting choked up.

Buy Pedigree dog food.

Visit your local animal shelter. Today.

Busy As A Bee

2007-01-23T14:22:00.000-06:00

It's good to have time to waste...

Ready or Not...

2007-01-11T10:09:00.000-06:00

It's really starting to sink in that we're hurtling faster and faster into the empty nest. James got his acceptance letter to The University of Alabama, and Amanda got her transfer acceptance to The University of North Texas over the holidays, so it's happening.

Whether I'm ready for it or not.

Denise gave me a book for Christmas - Letting Them Go by Dave Veerman. I started reading it this morning, and I find myself saying "Yep - I know what he's talking about" when he talks about the feeling of grief when you realize just how your family structure will change. I was pretty melancholy over the holiday when I'd stop to think about everything that will happen before next Christmas rolls around again. It was bad enough when Amanda left, but now James, too?? I just can't imagine this house without a kid in it. Poor Cinnamon. She'll be the only one left for me to focus all my Mom-energy on.

I sent an email to my brothers: "While I don’t doubt that life with young adults instead of kids will be just as good – and, in many ways, probably better, it’s still going to be…different. It’s the New Normal, and we’ll get used to it soon enough and enjoy it, but right now I’m sad to see this part of our lives drawing to a close."

But, in many ways, I am ready for it. My kids are happy and healthy. They're turning into delightful people, and I do look forward to relating to them on more of a peer-ish level. While still being their MOTHER, of course. Like they'd ever get out of that. Please.

And then there's the reason the kids are here in the first place. Randy and I had a weekend together - just the two of us! - in Dallas just before Christmas that was so great, and I know that's going to continue. Shoot, I married him because he was fun to be around, and he's just gotten to be even more fun as time has gone by. Who in the world knows what the future will bring for the two of us? Driving Route 66? An RV?? A Mediterranean cruise??? More weekends at The Home Depot?!?

More to my brothers: "I have enjoyed the heck out of these years and these children. From the time they were born, at every age they have been, I have looked at them and said “this time of their lives is perfect. This is the BEST age.” And then time passes, and I think “No, THIS is the best age.” And I know that I will always think, no matter the time or the age or the place or the circumstance, that EACH age is the perfect one."

Even the grown-up age.

Perfect.

I've Been Everywhere....

2006-11-06T11:15:00.000-06:00

Well, definitely not everywhere! I do see a definite southern-trending pattern in my US visits. I just wish these showed up as blue and not red states...

create your own visited states map

And I counted Hong Kong as part of China, even though it wasn't when I was there.

create your own visited countries map

Band: The Last Waltz

2006-10-29T08:43:00.000-06:00

Here they are on the field in Mt. Pleasant at UIL marching contest for the last time.

First Division all the way around. Cheers to all involved. What a grand experience this band thing has been for all of us.

Even I Am Surprised

2006-10-11T20:38:00.000-05:00

We have a signed, cash contract on 21st Street! Eight days on the market before the offer came in. Goodness - even I, The Usually Optimistic, am surprised by that.

Hopefully, a harbinger of Things to Come.

Clive? Lisa? Hallooo-o-o-o???

2006-10-02T19:43:00.000-05:00

Them "Designed to Sell" folks got nuthin' on us! We just got finished Designing to Sell the house on 21st Street, and it is officially on the market. I'm pretty proud of what we did for very little money that has made a big difference in the house.

We painted the wainscoting in the dining area, tiled both bathrooms, changed out a ceiling fan, a light fixture, and - in a VERY bold move - got rid of the extremely maroon Texas A&M mural in the front bedroom. That mural was a mess. Apparently they used an oil-based paint to make it, because when I went to KILZ it, the paint started bubbling up, then just came off in these big, giant SHEETS of slime. It was one of the more bizarre things I've seen lately. Kinda like stripping wallpaper, except much more...elastic.

So now, in addition to the two Gulf Shores condos, 21st Street is on the market, where the others will also be as they become tenant-less, and maybe (Lord willing, and no risen creeks nor hurricanes) someday soon we'll be out of the landlord business altogether!!!!!!!!

What a day of rejoicing that will be...

Easily Amused

2006-08-24T21:20:00.000-05:00

I know I'm easily amused, but I have found the coolest website!!

Try it: Motivator

I made others...wanna see?!?

Young whippersnappers...

2006-08-18T07:36:00.000-05:00

I'm getting old.

This week, I've been helping my new aide, Jimmie Nash, with her first grade lunch duty in the Aikin cafeteria. Frankly, I have never cared much for first graders - as a group - because collectively, they are harder to herd than cats, and much less friendly. Getting a group of first graders to all end up in the same location? It's kind of like kicking an ant hill, then trying to get the ants to all go back into that one little hole.

I tremendously admire teachers who do it successfully, because I know there's no way on God's green earth that I could.

But the reason I say I'm getting old? Watching these first graders in the lunchroom, I'm just amazed at the attitudes already on display. I saw so many kids this week, only five or six years old, already coming into school with this unattractive little swagger, a little toss of their head, purse of their lips, or roll of their eyes when an adult spoke to them that shouts to the world, "You aren't the boss of me! You can't tell me what to do!!" And it hurts my heart to see that unwillingness ALREADY to act cooperatively or respectfully or unselfishly.

I had the cutest little kid sass me - a teacher he had never seen before - when I told him to stop hitting - hard - the kid in line in front of him. And I mean sass me in a way that if it had been a five year old Amanda or James, I'd have yanked them out of there so fast on their way to a spanking that their feet would have barely touched the ground.

But you know what? At five years old, Amanda and James already knew better than to pull that kind of crap with ANY adult.

And I guess that's what hurts my heart the most...that these kids show by their actions that they don't have adults in their lives who love them enough to teach them how to act.

One Family's Junk...

2006-07-14T19:48:00.000-05:00

We're gearing up for our sorta-annual garage sale. It's been a couple of years, probably, since we've had one, and this one's sure to be a Big One. We've always been good at accumulating...stuff...and I think we're about to get to a place where we're ready to start letting said stuff go.

I find myself looking at things now in one of three ways: Is it something one of the kids might want someday (i.e., a family treasure kind of thing)? or: Is it something we want to take with us into our retirement? or: Is it something we just need for everyday life or conducting business? If it doesn't fall into one of those categories, it's going to the garage. Most of it, anyway. There are still a few things that I'm just not ready to give up yet, but I will be. One of these days.

We're not going to get its total worth, most likely, for some of it - the Fiesta, the Depression glass, that kind of stuff - but it's not doing anything for us just sitting in a cabinet, either, so it's going. Bargains will be found by some lucky shoppers.

Amanda's selling some stuff, and she's throwing some stuff away. I told her that she'll probably do more of that every time she comes home from now on. Stuff she wanted to hang on to after high school will come to mean less to her the more she is away from it. Naturally. She's moving toward a new life, as she should be.

James is also selling some stuff, but his is with a purpose: he wants new stuff. He's buying new furniture with the money he makes. He painted his room (with a lot of help from his sister) and did a great job picking out the colors and all. I told him he should be the next generation's Ty Pennington - cute, handy and soft-hearted.

Sale's coming up Saturday, July 22nd. Get here early, before all the good stuff's gone!!

Death By Plastic

2006-06-14T13:33:00.000-05:00

My friend Tony Lewis, who is the father of the cutest child born in 2004, has created a new blog, "Death By Plastic."

He's using this blog to discuss the perils of today's easy-credit, instant gratification society, in an easy to read and follow format. Speaking as one who has fought plenty of credit battles in her life, and who (with the help of some common sense, a good marriage, and a little bit of Paxil there for a while) has emerged on the other side sane, whole, and debt-free, let me encourage you to read what Tony has to say and take it to heart.

Debt and credit are probably among the most important issues facing American society today.

Well, sure, there's the war, and drugs, and environmental decay,and a few other issues...but economically speaking, personal debt affects every single citizen every single day. I see this in so many ways.

Fortunately, my friends are the smart ones who know how to act with credit. I don't think any of my really good friends are careless with credit. Hopefully, they've listened to enough of my cautionary tales to make a difference in what they do. But there are so many others...

People I see who live above their means, then apply for yet another credit card to try to keep the whole house of cards standing, to hold on the SUV, or the country club membership, or the HOUSE, for another month. The ones who are regulars at the check-cashing stores, or the payday loan companies, or the pawn shops to try to hold it all together. The ones who go out of town to file bankruptcy so it doesn't show up on the Lamar County Court Recorder.

We check credit on everyone who wants to live in one of our rent houses. What an eye-opener. MUCH of what we see is medical debt...but my feelings on health care in America are for another post. But we also see plenty of collections or judgements from places like Friedman's Jewelers...Household Finance...various auto financers...Sears...JC Penney...shoot, if Dollar General had a private credit card, we'd probably see collections from them too. We don't disqualify someone simply because of bad credit, but we do look at time since their more recent problems, how extensive the problems are, and things like that, before we trust them with one of our houses.

And when someone applies for a Quiznos franchise, their credit is checked. If their FICO score is below 670, they aren't qualified. That means, if they really want a franchise, there will be some pretty substantial hoops through which they must jump. They could - and in many cases, do - have a half million dollars in the bank, but if their credit score is low, we make 'em prove how much they want to work with us. It is always surprising to see the number of people who meet all the other financial qualifications - $250,000 net worth, $70,000 cash to invest - and yet their FICO score is in the weeds.

And if they've ever declared bankruptcy? Forget it. They will not be awarded a Quiznos franchise.

Donald Trump? Not qualified, sorry.

I honestly believe that consumer finance ought to be a required course in every high school in the United States. No kid should graduate from high school without knowing how to create a useable budget, keep a check register, balance a checkbook, how and when to apply for credit, and then...how to use that credit wisely.

I think that's one of the most valuable tools we can pass on to our children.

The DaVinci...Conundrum

2006-06-09T11:30:00.000-05:00

We went to see The DaVinci Code while we were in Gulf Shores. I didn't like it quite so much as I liked the book, but I did enjoy it. Tom Hanks needs a new hairstylist.

What I don't understand is this: what's all the fuss about?!?

In the first place, it's a novel. I guess one might categorize it as an historical novel, based on things that either happened, or might have happened, or were rumored to have happened. But still and all, it's a novel.

But if there were truth to it...why would that necessarily be so bad?

If Jesus and Mary Magdalene HAD been married, and if they HAD had children together, what, exactly, would that change? I don't understand all the controversy, all the...drama. Why would this be a secret that would change the world?

I'm sure I'm just so religiously unsophisticated that I'm not seeing the main picture here, but if we accept that Jesus was both human AND divine, how would his being married or fathering children compromise his divinity? How could He be more human and less divine, if we already accept that He was both?

If His mission was indeed to live among us as a human, to experience all the joy and heartache, delight and frustration that comes with being human, then it seems to me to be a logical extension that He did, in fact, fall in love...as a human might, marry...as a human might, father a child...as a human might.

To me, it makes it all the more poignant and breath-taking that He might have had what I, at least, consider to be a happy and fulfilling life - companionship, children, love - and yet, He was willing to give it all up. To sacrifice Himself on our behalf. To leave behind all the happiness His human life contained, for all of us to be able to achieve eternal life.

Wow.

Now if someone were to posit that Jesus didn't actually die on the cross and wasn't resurrected, well...THAT I'd have a problem with, because that WOULD, in fact, change everything. But if Jesus, the One who said "suffer the little children to come unto me" was actually a Daddy, that makes not a whit of difference to me.

Sand Between My Toes

2006-06-08T20:29:00.000-05:00

We just got back from a few days in Gulf Shores. Perfect weather - not too hot, nice and cool in the mornings, no rain.

Rumors abounded that there were sharks in the water, but we never saw any.

We went to the zoo this time - never been there before this trip. This is the Alabama Gulf Coast Zoo. What fun!

If you've been watching "The Little Zoo That Could" on Animal Planet, then you already know Patti Hall, and Cyndi Johnson, and all the folks who evacuated all 300+ animals...THREE times in the past year to protect them from hurricanes. Their story is amazing, and their zoo is terrific!

They are hand-raising three Bengal tiger cubs this summer, and the cubs come out to play twice a day. These kittens are just too cute. Patti and Cyndi take them home every night to bottle-feed. The cubs are on loan from a private breeding facility, and they'll be in Gulf Shores until the end of August.

It is worth a trip to Alabama just to see them!

And, plus...there's the beach...

Son of a Son of a Son...

2006-05-06T07:32:00.000-05:00

One of these days, I'm certain that James will email me the pictures he took at the AWESOME Jimmy Buffett concert, and I'll share them, and all the details...

"Ding Dong, Avon calling!"...no, wait, that's the wrong company!!!

2006-04-13T16:00:00.000-05:00

So...I'm a Tupperware Lady now. Hold your snarky comments, please. This is NOT the Tupperware of old. Nay, nay, let me assure you that there is some cool stuff in Today's Tupperware!!

Check out my own personal website. Click the logo above, or visit http//www.mytupperware.com/freed . You can place online orders or schedule an online Tupperware party. At online parties, you won't have to do any of the silly little icebreaker thingys.

Or call me and I'll come to your house and throw a party! We'll Tup Tup Tup the day away...

At least (s)he got to The Promised Land

2006-03-25T14:04:00.000-06:00

Jethro the Black Goldfish was pronounced dead today at 12:48 p.m. CST. Cause of death is undetermined, but is not believed to have been related to the ridiculously unseasonable snow shower earlier in the week. Place of death was the lovely new pond at Stately Reed Manor.

(S)he had just recently relocated there from her/his previous residence in the five-gallon Homer bucket (right) in the garage, to which (s)he was relocated after the Pond Formerly Known as Lovely was destroyed in a fit of remodeling fever.

(S)he is survived by her/his good friend (who may also have been her/his mother/father (or sister/brother)) Homer, as well as a host of new friends, the 17 recently relocated Brannan's Bass Shop evacuees.

When asked if (s)he would miss Jethro, Homer flipped her/his fin, and dove to the bottom of the pond.

We are SO there....

2006-03-01T18:59:00.000-06:00

One ring-y ding-y...

2006-02-12T17:04:00.000-06:00

Received via voicemail on Friday, February 10th:

"This is the Dallas Morning News. You may have received a message from us yesterday. This message was in error. Home delivery to your location is not being ended. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you."

HALLELUJAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Life As We Know It...

2006-02-10T06:02:00.000-06:00

...is coming to an end. Got a call yesterday from the folks at the Dallas Morning News saying that, effective April 1st, they will stop providing the Paris area with both home delivery and paper box delivery.

I cannot believe this. This is going to change our lives.

Every morning of my life, that's what I do first thing. I retrieve the paper from the driveway (and it's always there. Our paper carrier is wonderful.), and read from page 1 to the classifieds. Every morning. Rain or shine, ice or heat. Back in December, we had an ice storm. Schools were closed. Soup and K-C postponed their first shifts. The paper was in the driveway at 5:15 a.m. Every morning.

When we go out of town, first thing we do when we come home is put the papers in chronological order, then read through them. Of course, we can skim over some of the wire service stories and national/international news, because no matter where we've been, we've read the newspapers. The local papers, where they're available. USA Today for absolute sure.

But we gotta get back to the Morning News for all the other stuff. Steve Blow, James Ragland, Scott Burns. The never-ending travails of the Dallas Independent School District. Laura Miller and the Dallas City Council.

The COMICS, for cryin' out loud. These are our soap operas, our daily fixes. Will Ralph become Sally Forth's boss again? Will B.D. and Boopsie be able to deal with all his issues? Will Elly really sell the bookstore? Will Satchel ever tell Bucky to sit on it? Will those blasted crocodiles ever give up trying to eat their "zeeba neighbas?!?" Will I ever NOT laugh at the "The Boondocks"?

Will "Non Sequitur" EVER make sense or be funny? I never give up hoping.

We are newpaper people, Randy and I. From our earliest days together, first with the the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, to The Roanoke Times, The Charlotte Observer, and now the Morning News and the Paris News, practically the first thing we do when we move to a new city or a new house is to call the paper.

Sure, we can get the online version. But we already keep up with online news on CNN or MSNBC.

Or on TV. Can't wait to hear Gloria Campos say "you can find out more about it in today's edition of the Dallas Morning News." Um-m-m...no. We can't.

And, as the nice girl at the DMN customer service desk said yesterday, we can sign up for mail delivery. Yeah, boy...that's what I'm talkin' about...three to five days after it happens, we'll be able to read about it. Woo hoo. Let's hear it for current events.

There's just something about sitting at the kitchen table with my glass of iced tea and the morning newspaper. I know that, to some people, this sounds preposterous, but this is just heartbreaking news to us.

Too bad we won't be able to read about it in the newspaper.

Stately Reed Manor

2006-02-06T07:35:00.000-06:00

We've been doing a little more work on the old homeplace this weekend. Randy started working on a landscaping project around the new deck, using some of the old slate stones he dug out of the ground around the old deck. Looks GREAT! He's always so good at that kind of stuff. I think I'll go out to the pond place this weekend and see about some water plants. And it's about time to make a trip up to Brannan's Bass Shop to rescue a few little goldfish from a prematurely shortened life as bait.

And he scraped all the cottage cheese junk off of the ceilings in the downstairs bath, laundry and entry from the garage, and I started painting the walls a lovely blue. I'll paint the ceilings once he's satisfied with their smoothness. Bumpy ceilings = yucky. Smooth ceilings = good.

I will never want to move from here.

Never Send to Know for Whom the Bell Tolls

2006-01-31T06:09:00.000-06:00

According to the Iraq Coalition Casualty Count: in January, 2006, there were at least 89, and possibly as many as 142 U.S. Military troops reported as wounded in Iraq, and 62 U.S. military fatalities.

I just wonder why only Bob Woodruff's injuries are worthy of a front page headline and a statement of sympathy from the White House.

Gainful Employment...

2006-01-23T14:51:00.000-06:00

James has a job!! He starts work today at the GameStop here in town. Yep...my boy is growing up.

I can't wait until he gets his first paycheck and sees what's left for him after all the deductions!

Look THAT up in your Funk & Wagnalls!

2006-01-17T19:49:00.000-06:00

knuck·le·head
n. Informal A stupid person; a blockhead.

n : these words are used to express a low opinion of someone's intelligence [syn: dunce, dunderhead, numskull, blockhead, bonehead, lunkhead, hammerhead, loggerhead, muttonhead]

Come Gather 'Round, People...

2006-01-16T20:18:00.000-06:00

I've been lamenting to my kids that they are just not going to have the golden oldies when they are grown up like I do. It cracks them up that we can be playing name that tune on 70s on 7 on the XM radio, and even if I don't know the song...I can usually name the artist.

That's because "back in the day," there was an actual emphasis on voice...and on talent...not on the Look, or the Dance Move, or the Lack of Clothing.

What's funny is to look at the playlists on Amanda's or James' DJ. They have as many old songs as they do new ones. I like taking some credit for that, but the reality is...it's just good music.

Bob Dylan. Janis Joplin. The Eagles. Neil Diamond. Elvis. The Beatles. Chicago. Don McLean. The Temptations. Johnny Cash. John Denver. Dolly Parton. Jimmy Buffett. I can identify the artist, because I can hear his or her (or their, in the case of a group) actual voice, and the voice is most always distinctive enough to stand out from others. The song has a lyric that actually makes sense and means something. Not a lot of synthesizer, no god-awful drum beat that drowns out everything. Instead - a unique style, and a vocal and instrumental sound that, even if you've never heard the particular SONG, still lets you determine the particular ARTIST.

There's good music out there today, don't get me wrong, and I enjoy listening to some of it with the kids. Rob Thomas. Green Day. That "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" song. I love that song, even though it makes me sad - "my shadow is the only one who walks beside me" - how heart-breaking is that?!?

But twenty years later, I hear the first note sung by Karen Carpenter's gorgeous voice, and I know immediately who it is.

Twenty years from now...are my kids going to be able to tell their kids the difference between Brittney Spears or Jessica Simpson or Ashlee Simpson or Pink or Gwen Stefani with just a line from a song?

Nah...but they can't do it today, either. And it's no big loss.