A Glorious Coastal Morning to Ya'll

The Rookie, St. Martin, Sandia and Rain Bow are ready for captains.

Woke up this morning and it was a picture perfect sunrise. So I decided to try to shoot some photos after I dropped the kids off at school. This was a much better plan than what I had to do ... run to the grocery store.

Quickly I grabbed my camera and bird dog for a little jaunt down to the docks. As soon as I got to the shoreline, the sun disappeared behind a large, rolling wave of fog. The temperature dropped from 65 degrees Fahrenheit, things got hazy, and my dog saw a cat underneath a F150 truck pulling me into the tailgate. Apparently, I'm not built Ford tough. But I carried on and took these shots.

One of the things I like most about the coast are the sounds of seagulls, the crashing waves against piers and the smell of shrimp and fish.

Christie captures the scene for her new exhibit.

On my walk, I met a painter named Christie. "Where did the sun go?" she asked me. "I was painting and then all of the sudden, the light was gone." Christie is visiting from Dallas but has been coming to this little town since she was a small girl. Her maternal side of the family hails from this coastal town providing her painting inspiration. She's preparing some new paintings for a show at a local art gallery, she told me.

Further along my walk, a fisherman commented on my dog. "That's a really pretty dog," he said. "She looks like a really good hunting dog."

"Yes, it would appear so," I told him. "But she really only hunts for her bowl of food and a warm, soft bed to sleep in."

This is another thing I like about living on the coast. The people, whether visiting or living here, leave the real world of cubicles, Blackberry's and deadlines far behind.

Wondering if I can get some wildflower shots in the next few days. Although Texas had one of the worse droughts in a century, the bluebonnets are in full bloom covering the road shoulders in blue.

The Wondering Texan

A pile of oyster shells. 

Looking for a few good fish.

Weathered by the salt and sea air.

Little White Lies and Other Parenting Truths

The squirrel is sleeping -- really.

Today I'm wondering just how many little white lies, fudges, half-truths and technically correct things we tell our kids between birth and 18 years old.

What got me thinking this was last night's dinner. I decided to try something a little different on my family. I bought flounder stuffed with crab meat since it seems like a crime to live on the coast and not embrace fish. So, when the kids asked what I was making for dinner, I told them, "stuffed chicken. You'll like it." My kids stared at me with these dubious looks. They are getting a little too smart these days.

As they picked apart the "chicken" I thought of all of the stretches of truth we tell kids in an effort to just keep peace or avoid uncomfortable situations. Like last weekend when we were taking the six hour trip back from Fort Worth. For about the last three hours when the kids asked, "how much longer" my husband and I would either say, "Not much," or "Oh, about an hour." Why add misery upon them?

I remember when they were little and I would take them to the pediatrician for a check-up. They would always ask, "are we getting a shot?" I didn't want to outright lie, so I would play Switzerland. "I'm not sure," I would say. "We will have to see what the doctor says."

One of the best little fibs was from my husband a few years ago. We were TV channel surfing with the kids sitting beside us. On one channel a rather risque scene appeared with a man and woman getting hot and heavy (and no, this wasn't on a porno channel). "What are they doing?" one of the kids asked. My clever husband answered, "They're wrestling."

Some early answers were easy:

• Putting the dog down - we put her to sleep.
• Monsters under the bed - we sprayed special "water" under the bed.
• Does Santa exist? - If you believe in your heart he exists.

As the kids get older, the little white lies become more complex. My friends and I have discussed what to say when they ask, "did you ever sneak out of the house?" or "what did you do for fun in college?" As my friend Carol said, "The problem is back in the '80s, a lot was legal which isn't today." So, technically, we weren't breaking any laws except for maybe having common sense. So, when my kids ask these kinds of questions, I think instead of playing Switzerland, I'll play Betty White. It was such a long time ago, I just don't remember. You know, the gray matter in my head has seeped through to my hair.

Just wondering if that excuse will work?

The Wondering Texan

Spring Break Brings Sun, Wildflowers and People to Town

Sunny skies for spring breakers.

This is Spring Break week for a majority of kids in Texas. Ah, Spring Break. That one week of the year to get a tan, stay out late, play in the sun and generally be irresponsible. That is...until you become a mom.

This is one of the things all of the books leave out when you're pregnant. This and the fact that as your chest deflates, your hips inflate after pregnancy.

When you become a mom, you've got to find things for the kids to do over Spring Break. When they were really little, it wasn't too bad. Park, ice cream, Putt Putt, maybe a movie. But for older kids, it's got to be thrilling. Which is why my kids are bored.

Today is the first day in many that the sun actually appeared warming the ground and driving the fog away. So, I suggested to the kids (more like ordered) all of us to the beach for a walk. I got peppered with the "why" questions. If you think kids stop asking all of the "why" questions by the time they reach 6 years old, think again.

Today I was asked:

"Why do we have to walk on the beach?"
"Why are they burying that guy in the sand?"
"Why are there so many people here?"
"Why do sharks come close to the shore?"
and my personal favorite, "Why do some people your age still wear bikinis?"

So, I tried to answer as many questions as possible while shooting these photos. If you can't visit a beach this week, hopefully these photos of springtime along the Coastal Bend will put your mind in Margaritaville.

Wondering why do people who shouldn't wear bikinis do?

The Wondering Texan

Beware! Sand shark on the beach.

A monster of an effort.

Guess they didn't agree with his answer.

I wish I could say the wind did that to his hair.

Our azaleas are in full bloom.

Wildflowers right off of the beach.

A patch of Bluebonnets near the beach entrance.

Living on the Other Side of Breast Cancer

It's been a while since writing, but I left town last week to visit my oncologist for my two year checkup since being diagnosed with breast cancer. I emotionally did much better with this visit than the last visit. Maybe because I've been feeling really good or maybe because I took an Alprazolam pill before the visit to help calm nerves.

When she entered the room, she gave me a big smile and boomed, "So good to see you! You look fantastic!"

Uh, OK.

"So, what have you been up to?" she asked. "How are your husband and kids? Do they like living by the beach? I love the beach."

At this point, all of the Alprazolam couldn't have prevented the ensuing panic attack. 'Oh my God, it's bad news. She's buttering me up,' I thought.

So I tried to bring the subject to my medical condition. "Ah, we're going on an extended vacation later this year and I know that I have to wear my arm sleeve on a plane to prevent lymphedema, but is there any else I should be concerned with?"

"Oh no, you're fine. Where are you going?" she asked.

When I told her, she exclaimed, "Oh how fun. I'm going to Africa this summer for two weeks. The first week will be a vacation and the last part will be a medical mission. I love Africa. I went there as a child."

Uh, OK. So I tried again to switch the conversation to medical concerns.

"You know I'm getting my reconstruction in a few months and I'm so ready to get my port out," I said hoping she would just tell me what's wrong. This is really torture.

"Oh, you're going to look great. It's about time to get it done. You can see me for your next visit after your initial surgery. It's too much to do everything at once."

Then she got up to walk out of the room. She escorted me to the appointment scheduler and told her, "Just be flexible with her for her next visit. Sometime this summer would be fine."

Then she turned to me, stretched out her arms and gave me a huge bear hug. "Have fun this summer!" she squealed.

I felt like I had just lived through a bad '70s sitcom skit.

When I walked back to me car, I called my husband who asked, "What did she say?"

"Uh, she's going to Africa this summer," I told him.

"What else?" he asked.

"It's part vacation and medical missionary work," I told him. I'm still in disbelief.

"What else? Didn't she say anything about your blood work?"

"No, nothing." I said.

"Nothing? Not even cholesterol?"

"No, so I guess that means there's nothing to talk about."

With such great news I met my friend Sara for margaritas and Mexican food. She said her oncologist's visit earlier in the week went the same way. We both sat there looking at each other when I had to ask, "You don't think there really IS something and she chickened out telling me do you? Maybe she doesn't want to ruin my summer."

"Nah, that would be unethical," I said calming myself.

When I got home, I confessed to my husband, "You know, I didn't really let myself get too excited about going abroad this summer because I worried if I had a recurrence, what would we do."

But now, no worries about that. Time to shop for espadrilles and cute shorts that cover my hail damaged thighs.

Wondering how many pairs of shorts and jeans to pack?

The Wondering Texan

A New Use for Mardi Gras Beads

If you're in an area with some type of Mardi Gras celebration, then you're probably like us with about 10 pounds of beads laying around the house.

The beads are kind of like Halloween candy to kids. You know, the kids get a ton, play with them for a day, then you have them laying around the house for weeks afterward. And if you're like me, you slowly pitch a handful away behind the kids' backs until, surprise!, none are left.

So, I've come up with two solutions to get rid of them. At first I took some to my water aerobics class, threw them into the pool and challenged the ladies to swim for them. The lady who collected the most was "crowned" our Pool Queen.

This was where the beads started.

But the really fun idea was last night. At 8:30 p.m., I took probably about five pounds of the beads, went up to the kids and asked them if they wanted to help me "teepee" our neighbors trees with the beads. Our neighbors, Les and Judy, call us their kids because they don't have kids of their own. So, it's only appropriate that we act like kids.

My daughter and I walked across the street under the cover of darkness to act out our plan. The only stipulation was not throwing the beads up in the trees. Instead, place the beads on branches which in our case covers branches not higher than 5'6" tall.

And this is where some ended up.

We had a great time and I thought that years from now when my daughter is trying to get me to put my dentures in, she will remember some of the fun, crazy things we did together.

Well, this morning at 7:45 a.m., Judy called."You guys are crazy! We love our little Mardi Gras trees," she said. I tried to act confused and surprised but couldn't keep the game going. "That's the sweetest thing anyone has done for us!" Judy gushed.

The day is almost half done and the beads are still hanging proudly from their trees. Judy and Les have taken pictures, put a few strands around their cats' necks, and enjoyed the attention the beads have garnered from other neighbors.

So, my goal has been achieved. The beads have found new homes and brought smiles to two wonderful people. Although the cats don't look particularly happy.

Wondering if I should save the few remaining beads left to stuff in a pinata for Easter?

The Wondering Texan

It's Not NOLA, But It's In the Spirit

Today under gray skies and the threat of rain, the Lamar Volunteer Fire Department hosted their 10th annual Lamardi Gras Celebration.

Although probably on a 10th of a scale as Mardi Gras, Lamardi Gras gets points for effort and humor. I mean, where else would you see a retrofitted air conditioner unit masquerading as a float?

Boats, fish, old fire trucks, a plastic dinosaur, and even a cooler attached with a motor all made the route interesting. And of course, there were plenty of local politicians grinning and waving.

So I thought you would enjoy a photo tour of the parade. Sit back, pour a bowl of jambalaya, and enjoy small town Lamardi Gras -- South Texas style.

Wondering what to do with about the 10 pounds of beads my son collected?

The Wondering Texan

A Little Coyote Pee Please

A deer had a snack attack on my Hawaiian Red Ti plant.

Yesterday was Valentine's Day and for my beloved, I brought him coyote urine. You see, we are at war with deer.

A few days ago I came home to spot two new plants pulled up by their roots with the tops eaten off. And last night as we left for dinner, we spotted seven deer on someone's front lawn. Yes, seven deer. They just looked at us as if to say, "What! And just what do you think you're going to do?" They mock us.

A scare tactic: coyote urine

So yesterday I went to a local feed store. I have never been in a feed store before. Aside from the usual horse, cow and bird things, they had purses, jewelry and assorted other items I guess in an effort to feed a woman's soul. As I looked at the purses, I decided to get on with what I came for -- coyote pee.

I strolled up to the cashier area and patiently waited for the lady to finish checking out someone. There was rancher standing to my right and another man on my left. When the cashier said, "Next," the men gallantly told me I could go ahead of them. "Oh, thanks," I said. Then I said, "I need coyote urine. Do you have any?" This cracked everyone up.

"I'm at war with deer," I said. 

"I bet I know where you live," said the rancher. "They are terrible around there."

My tulips out front are defying the odds.

That's an understatement. I swear there are herds of them around here. Of course, we can't shoot them. But one neighbor (not us) shot one with an arrow. They deer survived and walks around with the arrow sticking out of its neck. Now there's an ordinance against bow hunting too.

Coyote urine comes in pellets or the liquid form. At first I opted for both. Then I saw the price tag. About 12 ounces costs $15. So, I got the pellets figuring that it may last longer with all of the rain we've been getting. It says it keeps deer, elk, armadillos and javelinas away.

Cyclamen is brussel sprouts to deer.

So last night I gave my husband his Valentine's card and then handed him the coyote urine pellets. You've been married a long time when something like that excites the both of you. Last night he went out and sprinkled it around our plants. This morning he came in all excited. "It doesn't look like the deer got into our plants!"

So far we've learned that deer don't like Blue Plumbago, Monkey Grass, Vinca's, Cyclamen, or ginger plants. They load up on roses, hibiscus, tulips, pansies, snapdragons, and just about any other pretty flowering plant. The latter are like an all night buffet to them.

"Well, if this doesn't work maybe we can capture a real coyote and leash it out front," I kidded my husband. "That probably would be cheaper than continuing to buy pellets."

Wondering if this doesn't work, what's left?

The Wondering Texan