Miles and Miles of Texas with a Deer on the Hood

Skull on the ranch.

As with everyone else, I've been busy with post holiday craziness -- packing up Christmas ornaments, trying to lose the extra 5 lbs. that has landed on my hips, and cleaning out the refrigerator of unrecognizable leftovers wrapped in red Saran Wrap. So far, I've be successful with clearing the clutter and tossing the bio-hazards from the frig.

But we did have a nice holiday seeing friends and family in Fort Worth, and trip to our friend's ranch in Noodle, Texas, where my son killed his first deer. No 11-year-old could be prouder. You know that scene in Family Christmas Vacation when Chevy Chase ropes a huge Christmas tree to the top of his family's vehicle? Well, for the seven hour trip back home, we had the deer affixed to the top of the SUV. You know you're in Texas when you pull through a McDonald's for lunch and not one person is surprised, startled or disgusted by the deer. They only register a mild raised eyebrow. So, us and deer headed home through Paint Rock, population 273; crossing Hog River; and skimming through the Hill Country. As the song by Asleep at the Wheel says, we saw miles and miles of Texas.

Now, our son has the hunting bug and last Sunday he and my husband went duck hunting at a nearby ranch in Fulton, Texas. Rain was coming down and it was something like 40 degrees outside. Surely they wouldn't go hunting I thought. I was wrong. When they came home, my son raced through the den as I asked, "How was it?" He immediately shot into a steaming hot shower where he stayed for 10 minutes. His lips were purple for an hour. But he had fun and they shot a duck.

So, to my friends who have only girly daughters and/or husbands who don't hunt, let me tell you what it's like to live with these types of men and a tomboy girl.

1) I have waders drying from a hook on my patio. They will probably be there for a while since it's been raining for two days now.
2) I have shotgun shells drying out on my laundry room counter.
3) I have a deer head on my patio shelf that the dogs have pulled down in an apparent attempt to make it a raw hide.

Our wonderful Abilene hosts.

4) I have to separate my laundry in the usual fashion -- whites, colors, darks. Plus add one, camo/hunting clothes which stink like dirty feet and cheese.
5) I have homemade dried venison jerky.
6) I have to light candles to mask the smell of gun cleaner out of the house.
7) I have to be the sane one when my husband suggest we should put the gutted deer on the front lawn as a deterrent against neighborhood deer eating our plants. I told him we would probably be reported to MHMR and PETA.

An old gas station in Albany, Texas.

8) I have to find an ice pack for my daughter who got a huge raspberry between her eyes from the rifle scope as it kicked. Yes, my daughter. And I had to reassure her that it would be gone by the start of school.

So, add all of this to the normal routine of managing a house. Not that I'm complaining. I'm really not.

Wondering how to cook duck.

The Wondering Texan

An Albany church.

Albany has a few cute shops dotting it's old town center.

A House of Jokers

Well, we just couldn't help it. Over the last few weeks my husband and I have been having quite a lot of fun playing jokes on neighbors, co-workers, kids and the likes.

The first recent joke was my husband's irritating ribbing of co-workers who are UT alum. When TCU beat UT in Austin (the first time since like 1969 -- almost the same amount of time of us being on this earth) he had to crow a little. So, for a week he wore nothing but purple shirts to work amid a sea of UT alum. One told him, "You can't possibly have that many purple shirts!" to which my husband proudly defied. OK, he's obnoxious at times I admit.

Then down the street our neighbors suffered the best practical joke. Winnie and Warren carefully placed cute, lighted deer on their lawn for Christmas.They sparkled so prettily it was too much to resist. So, instead of doing the obvious joke of putting the deer in inappropriate positions (a thought we had but feared the retirees would be too offended), we speared the deer with arrows. The baby I pulled out of the ground and put him on his back with an arrow through the gut.We should have taken photos of the crime. Maybe the real deer in the neighborhood will run in fear!

By the way, speaking of jokes, my husband has launched an all-out war on the moles in our backyard. If you have ever seen Caddy Shack with Bill Murray then you can imagine my husband in our backyard. Seriously, the man (my husband) is possessed. He's tried setting traps, flooding the moles out with the garden hose, training our bird dog to smell out moles, and the most scary, spraying ether in the holes and lighting a match. I shudder at the thought. I can just envision the conversation with the insurance man: "Well, you see, my husband was trying to kill moles and he accidentally set the house on fire. Yes, he was using a gas. Yes, he lit a flame. But can't I claim my husband as a natural disaster? Will this increase our insurance rate?"

So next week, I'm going to Fort Worth for a final cosmetic surgery for my breast reconstruction and to meet my oncologist. This means my husband is left alone to his own devices for a few days. The kids are starting to get nervous and our neighbor has offered to provide food and provisions.

Wondering if suffering and disorganization really ever hurt anyone and if my house will be standing?

The Wondering Texan

Two Little Boys Dish Out Life Lesson

Last Saturday night, two little boys ages 5 months and 2-years-old did what parents and health teachers only wish they could accomplish. After babysitting the boys, my daughter and her friend have decided never, ever, to have kids.

This suits us just fine. Considering the girls are 14 years old, we realize that this proclamation probably won't hold up, but hopefully it will get them through college.

When the girls got home at 12:30 a.m., they both rushed up to my husband and I saying, "It was horrible! They were everywhere, the baby wouldn't stop crying. How did you do it?"

Then the girls looked at each other and decided that THEY couldn't have possibly been as much work.

"I wasn't like that was I mom?" my daughter asked.

Well, in all honesty, her brother at that age was more difficult to get to and stay in bed. In some respects, he hasn't changed.

At one point, the two-year old wanted to talk to his dad, so my daughter called my husband who pretended to be Tripp's dad. "Are you being good?" my husband asked. "Now, listen to the girls."

So the night went on. Putting the baby down. Putting the 2-year-old down. Trying to rock the baby back to sleep. Putting the two-year-old back down. Changing the baby's diaper which my daughter said, "luckily it was only pee." Putting the two-year-old back to bed. Bouncing and walking the baby around. Putting the two-year-old back down.

Of course, I had to use this as a teaching moment. "See, that's why we tell you it's important to have a baby only when you're totally ready. As a parent, you don't get to go home at midnight. And no one pays you."

So, the next morning the girls slept in. At 9 a.m., the smoke alarm in her bedroom started to beep for a new battery. My husband went in clanging the ladder around to change the battery. The girls didn't stir. Then I went in to put up some laundry, they didn't even turn. We had the TV on, our 11-year-old son running around, and two dogs barking at squirrels in the backyard. Armageddon could have come and the girls wouldn't have opened an eye.

When they finally got up, all they wanted to do was watch TV.

So, it doesn't look like I will be a grandmother in the next decade which is A-OK with me. But when it does come, I'm going to relish holding and cuddling a new baby. Then giving him/her back to my daughter to change the diaper.

Wondering if I could now get my daughter to swear off junk food?

The Wondering Texan

Working On My Relay for Life

Well, it's been a while since I've written here. I've started substitute teaching, had some more surgery for reconstruction (which looks fantastic I might add) and started volunteer work for the upcoming Relay for Life for the American Cancer Society (ACS). As my mother-in-law told my husband, "she can't stay still can she?" Guess not.

Anyway, my friend Dana recruited me to the planning committee for our area's upcoming Relay which will happen March 22, 2013. As I attended my first meeting talk came around to the kick-off dinner. One of the planners said, "We need a speaker." Then someone else said, "Someone new. Someone people haven't heard their story."

I could feel the stares burning my skin and hear the tapping of fingers on the table.

"Someone who recently battled the disease," ACS lady said.

OK, I give. When I offered to speak, they all acted surprised. Gee, they are REALLY BAD ACTORS! No Oscar winners in this group.

So I jotted down some comments and stood before about 30 organizers the following week. I tried to hit the fine line between depressing and naive or worse, Polly Anna. I started off by saying, "Well, when I first got the diagnosis my husband and I sought some solace. We went to a bar." That got some laughs.

I rattled off some positives of cancer -- get to try a new hairstyle; people bring to you loads of food; you can take a guilt-free nap at anytime. I also said that some people thought my death from Stage III breast cancer was eminent, I became a walking, 5'2 confessional booth. Now those people are starting to look a little worried.

That got more laughs.

Anyway, after I finished, the newspaper editor rushed over to me, asked for my notes and interviewed me. Then the ACS lady came over.

"That was so good!" she gushed. "I didn't know you could speak. Why didn't you tell us? You should do this more often."

So now I'm on their Speaker's Bureau.

But what was really great for me was hearing other stories. I met someone whose sister was diagnosed with terminal cancer. That was 15 years ago. Then I heard of someone who has successfully battled three bouts of cancer over several decades. I also met a woman my age who was diagnosed at age 25 with breast cancer.

"I had been married for a year and a half," she told me. "We didn't have children yet."

She went through surgery, chemo and reconstruction. She's accomplished raising a family, working full-time and being a multi-year Relay for Life participant.

So this weekend I'm off to San Antonio for the South Texas Summit. I've been told to wear purple which should be pretty easy since that's TCU's color too. From what I gather, the Summit is a planning, sharing, and bonding experience. I'm really looking forward to hearing more inspirational stories.

But between now and then, I've got to pay bills, walk the dogs and do laundry. Life doesn't stop even for cancer.

I'll let you know how the Summit goes.

Wondering if I should spray paint my hair purple? Nah, maybe I'll just buy some super purple eye shadow.

The Wondering Texan

Cruising Through Mid-Life With B-12 and Kim Kardashian

 Last night I was invited to go on a "moms' sunset cruise" with my friend Cindy. Our boys go to school together, and as such the case, we parents have formed a friendship.

As the five of us watched the early fall sun lower over the horizon, we talked about what most middle-aged women talk about. Weight. And organic health food. And B-12 shots.

Forget the hot guy conversation, the new car debate, or the recently purchased cocktail dress talk of yesteryear. Today my life has become a series of conversations on how to avoid weight gain. Every once in a while, the topic will change to sore joints, but I digress.

We meandered through the bay looking at cranes and searching for dolphins while we sipped wine and ate cheese, which I thought was kind of funny given the topic.

"I hear if you give up alcohol, you can lose weight pretty fast," I said.

You would have thought I pulled the drain plug on the boat.

"Well, yeah, but who wants to do that?" asked Sara. "I give myself B-12 shots." Apparently, she buys a monthly supply at a very reasonable price.

We were like the Sex and the City girls except more accurately named Weight and the Married Women.

Then one of them said, "We should go dancing at Sharkey's. It's so much fun. Let's go eat healthy Mexican food at this restaurant, then go dancing."

Cindy asked, "Is it safe?"

What? The food or the bar? Or possibly the dancing? I didn't get the question.

"It's totally safe. The people are preppy and they play '80s music," Sara said.

Flashback 1986. I lived through the'80s and not sure if I'm able relive it.

Of course, not having been to a dance club in about two decades I had to ask, "Do we bring our husbands?"

I could hear the gurgling sound of salt water rising around my ankles. I almost said, "Just joking!"

Obviously, I was batting a 0 on the conversation scale. Eventually they started to talk amongst themselves and occasionally nod over in my direction.

Then they started talking about frozen fruit slushes. Peel and cut up a banana into chunks. Place in a freezer bag, but don't neatly place them in the bag because it makes it harder to break apart and put in the blender. Then add some other fruit or coconut juice, not milk which is higher in calories. Of course, you can always add rum or vodka, they said.

I was eager to jump into the conversation, so I said, "Well, last week I went to an interval training class and couldn't sit down for days. But, I kept going because I wasn't about to let a woman 20 years older than me beat me."

Blank stares.

"Well, I have to do something to get my butt off of the back of my thighs," I laughed.

They politely smiled, then one asked, "How much weight do you want to lose? A half a pound?"

They all literally looked me up and down, laughed, and took another swig of wine.

So I tried to steer the conversation to brighter ground -- hair dye.

"Who does your hair?" I asked. "I haven't found anyone here yet."

Yes, I was back in the conversation! They were all eager to give me their hair stories.

On the latter half of the cruise we picked up another couple and their college-age daughter. They started talking about the new IPhone 5 which of course the daughter has ordered. Then they started talking about storing photos in "the cloud," and other technology advancements.

I had to say to Miss College, "I don't understand Twitter."

I could feel her eyes roll. "You don't understand what Twitter is?" Miss College asked.

"No, I know what it is," I said. "But why do people like to communicate that way?"

"Well, a lot of celebrities communicate that way," she said.

"OK, but why do average people want a Twitter account?" I asked.

"Well," Miss College said. "You can directly talk to celebrities. People like Kim Kardashian can respond back to you."

"Why do I want to talk to Kim Kardashian?" I asked.

Again I was sent back to the familiar four walls of my dog house.

So, this is what I have learned thus far in my life - I've never really outgrown my odd girl personality. I'm a dork. A card carrying dork. Leading the 'hood of dorkdom in stares, smirks and furrowed brows.

Oh well, it's nice to know some things remain consistent in life.

Still wondering why I would want to talk to Kim Kardashian? I mean, really?

The Wondering Texan




 

Substitute Teaching Middle Schoolers

Well, I'm about to embark on my latest adventure - substitute teaching.

A lady in my water aerobics class gave me the idea saying she thought I would be good at it. I guess she figured if I can control a couple of menopausal ladies in a pool of water, then I shouldn't have any problems controlling hormonal middle schoolers in a classroom. At least I won't have to contend with hot flashes other than my own. Plus, it allows flexibility for my reconstruction process, adds a little extra cash to our account, and gives me new purpose.

So, I applied and went through the background check. I've been finger printed and been given a pep talk by the school district official. The substitute teacher coordinator gave me six substitute teaching assignments at the middle school. All in math. The last time I was in a math class was when they didn't allow calculators in the class. The other week, my husband was watching a YouTube video on how to operate my daughter's calculator for advanced algebra.

"Don't worry, we're basically looking for people who can control the class. You'll been fine," she told me with a smile.

I guess she figured that since I have two middle school children of my own, I am uniquely qualified.

Tomorrow is my first day at the school. And you know what most people are asking me? What am I going to wear. Yes, it's true.

"You're not going to a corporate office," my neighbor told me.

Then there's my daughter's comments.

"Mom, don't tell them your last name," she said. Then she added, "So, how are you going to be?"

I wasn't following her question and asked for an explanation.

"Well, are you going to be a mean substitute or a cool sub?" she asked.

'Well, I don't know. I guess I'll be myself,' I told her.

A moment of silence. Then she said, "Well just don't tell anyone your last name."

Then I called my dad figuring I could at least get some parental support. I overreached.

"Really?" he said. "Math?"

A moment of silence.

"Oh. Well that should be ...good."

At least he didn't tell me not to tell anyone my name. Or tell me what to wear.

I've faced a corporate layoff and cancer, so how hard can it be to face seventh graders?

I'll let you know.

Wondering if I can bring candy into the classroom as a motivational tool. Without peanuts of course.

The Wondering Texan

Burning With Fall Expectations

It's hot and dry here along the coast which makes the fall season seem like a mirage. I hope it's somewhere out there, but don't think I'll see it anytime soon.

My neighbors just got back from Lake Michigan and told me they actually had to layer on clothes. This has put me in a melancholy mood. I mean, last weekend my daughter went to a beach party and they couldn't play volleyball because the sand was too hot.

Even the hummingbird migration seems to have stalled in the heat. A few have been flitting around the feeders and, in my optimism, I bought a 5 lb. bag of sugar in preparation for the feeding frenzy. The sugar is still in my pantry collecting more dust than hummers. The local HummerBird Celebration is this weekend with special speakers, bird banding and other special activities. Hopefully, it will be full of hummers, not bummers.

One of the hummers from last year's banding activity.

Although there's not a flock of hummers, certain other animals have made their presence known. Moles have made our yard look like a field of land mines. Traps have been set, yet remain waiting. So far, the traps have netted none. Our dogs, one. Yes, one of my dogs caught a mole and brought it to the back door as a sacrificial offering. I've never seen a mole up close. In a way it was kind of cute with its long, pink nose. But, not cute enough to receive a pardon.

The heat has taken a bite out of fishing.

Then there are the roaches. The nasty, flying, size of a city bus, roaches. With 22 Live Oaks in our backyard and the drought, they have set up camp around our home. I called an exterminator and bought a can of Raid. It's all-out war. I don't know why I think I may win this war considering they have been around since the dinosaurs.

Yesterday I pulled out some of my fall decorations and bought a few chrysanthemums. But of course, I can't plant those in the front yard due to the deer. Our other rodent. As I planted the flowers, a stream of sweat rolled down my back. That kind of takes the fun out of decorating.

So, I'm hoping cooler weather (I'm not even going to wish for a cold front) arrives soon. It's supposed to be in the mid-90s today. Better than the low-100s. But still not hot toddy weather.

Oh, the weatherman just said we may get some "isolated showers." Wondering if he's just teasing us? He's such a joker!

The Wondering Texan