"It's up to your knees out there..." Or so goes the song.
But it is cold. One of the coldest winters I can remember in my 28 years in Texas. I love winter. My blood, however, has gotten quite thin from living so far south. The weatherman predicted that tomorrow morning, it will be a whopping 11 degrees. "It ain't fit out for man nor beast", my Dad used to say when the weather was especially bad. I think he would have been right in this case.
Did you know that mercury freezes at minus 38 degrees Celsius? So, if it gets really cold, your old-fashioned mercury thermometer will stop at minus 38 degrees. I know that Dallas is experiencing one of it's coldest winters in years, but I don't think it's going to get that cold.
So when the alarm goes off at 6:30 tomorrow morning and my 11 year-old son runs into our bedroom to wake me up, I'll feel a little shiver run through me as I take a deep breath, hop out of bed and run into the bathroom and turn on the heat lamp. I'll take a little longer than I usually would to brush my teeth and comb my hair before getting dressed, soaking up some of the glorious artificial warmth.
Then, I've got to take the dog out to potty!!! Oh bother! I wonder if The Potty Patch works like it does in the commercial. But at $39.99, I'm not about to take that chance that it doesn't.
The weatherman tells us that a wind chill rating of minus 25 degrees Fahrenheit or lower can cause skin to freeze. I think they call it frostbite. If it is that cold out, make sure all exposed skin is covered – except your eyes, of course. Why? Will your eyes not freeze? A fact that I'll ponder as I take the dog for a walk in the brisk morning air.
Another point to ponder is Global Warming. As I walk the dog in the morning, I would welcome a sunspot or two peeking out from the clouds. Where is Al Gore when you need him?
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Monday, December 14, 2009
It's A Wonderful Life!!
Clarence - The Angel: “Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?”
The holiday season is upon us once again and my thoughts turn to those I love, those I've lost and those people who just, for one reason or another just fade away.
This is the second Christmas without my Dad. Losing him still hurts, but it's a dull pain or an awful hole in my heart. Not the sharp ache I felt when my Mom called to tell me she thought he was dead, or the excruciating sting I felt at his funeral. Just a sad, sweet memory of Christmas growing up in a normal, fairly well-adjusted Midwest house, where both parents worked and we took regular summer vacations. We went to church on Christmas Eve, and if we’d been VERY good all year, then Santa came while we were at church. We could play with our toys as late as we wanted and I very often fell asleep under the lights of the tree. (I later figured out that this was so that Mom and Dad could sleep in on Christmas morning!)
I could always talk to my Mom, of course, girls always talk to their Moms. That's just natural. But if I had been done an injustice, it was my Dad that came out fighting. He came to my defense just like a tiger. No one could hurt his little girl.
I look at my Christmas tree in my house, where my family will celebrate our 12th Christmas. I look at it and think back to so many Christmas's in our house where I grew up. A normal four-bedroom, two-bath, two-car-garage, "split ranch" in Kansas City, Missouri. A nice house. Not the McMansions so popular today. Not flashy by Dallas standards. Probably not flashy by any standards today. I miss having all of our family over for Christmas like we did in Kansas City. Mom was always preparing for "company". Cooking, cleaning, decorating. And I loved it! So much so that I've tried to continue those traditions in my own home.
So many of the people that celebrated with us over the years have moved on to their heavenly home. All of my Dad's family is gone. My Dad was the baby of the family, (which is why I think he loved me so much - we could relate to each other) and he was the last to leave the Earth. My Mom has only one sister left. My sister has been dead for almost 13 years. Thank God I still have my Mom. At 88, she's a little forgetful and a bit unsteady on her feet. I wish that I could have my Mom of 10 years ago to go Christmas shopping with me. But she's still here with me and if that's the best I can do, then I'll take it!
I wonder if all my dearly departed loved ones are getting ready to celebrate Christmas in Heaven. It only makes sense to me that everyone in Heaven would be preparing to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Not the kind of Chuck E. Cheese birthday celebration, but a divine celebration. With choirs of angels and awesome beauty.
For those I love, I think of making this Christmas the best! I've not worked since March, so even though my husband makes a good living, there won't be any extravagant, over-the-top gifts under the tree. No plasma TV’s (I bought one for my husband for Father's Day) or shiny new BMW's with a big red bow in the driveway, like you see in the commercials (Does anybody REALLY do this, by the way?). No, the kids have indicated their contentment and have asked for relatively small items. My husband has asked for gloves, which I'll gladly spend an entire afternoon searching for the ideal pair. He is such a wonderful man and gives of himself unselfishly every day of the year. It's because of him that I am able to be an old-fashioned, stay-at-home Mom.
For some of my friends, this will be a sad Christmas. Some are unemployed, not by their own choice, and this year has been difficult for them. My heart goes out to them and I pray that they will find inner peace, and gainful employment, in the coming year.
I think about my children too. One is mine by choice; a "step son" if you will. He is a wonderful, kind-hearted kid that has had a couple of tough breaks. The break up of his parents, probably being the worst. I often wonder if he'll come to see me in the "old folks home". I hope so. The other is a rapturous 11-year old boy that is the apple of his mother's eye. He's sweet, sentimental and loveable.
I now know what my Mom meant when she said she didn't want anything "material" for Christmas, she just wanted her family to be happy and healthy. I wish the same for my family now, so many years later. Making memories for my kids so they can have wonderful reminiscences when they’re grown, is my main objective. Life is what you make it. Our time here on Earth is fleeting, at best. We can make life wonderful for those we love by being kind, considerate and caring.
The holiday season is upon us once again and my thoughts turn to those I love, those I've lost and those people who just, for one reason or another just fade away.
This is the second Christmas without my Dad. Losing him still hurts, but it's a dull pain or an awful hole in my heart. Not the sharp ache I felt when my Mom called to tell me she thought he was dead, or the excruciating sting I felt at his funeral. Just a sad, sweet memory of Christmas growing up in a normal, fairly well-adjusted Midwest house, where both parents worked and we took regular summer vacations. We went to church on Christmas Eve, and if we’d been VERY good all year, then Santa came while we were at church. We could play with our toys as late as we wanted and I very often fell asleep under the lights of the tree. (I later figured out that this was so that Mom and Dad could sleep in on Christmas morning!)
I could always talk to my Mom, of course, girls always talk to their Moms. That's just natural. But if I had been done an injustice, it was my Dad that came out fighting. He came to my defense just like a tiger. No one could hurt his little girl.
I look at my Christmas tree in my house, where my family will celebrate our 12th Christmas. I look at it and think back to so many Christmas's in our house where I grew up. A normal four-bedroom, two-bath, two-car-garage, "split ranch" in Kansas City, Missouri. A nice house. Not the McMansions so popular today. Not flashy by Dallas standards. Probably not flashy by any standards today. I miss having all of our family over for Christmas like we did in Kansas City. Mom was always preparing for "company". Cooking, cleaning, decorating. And I loved it! So much so that I've tried to continue those traditions in my own home.
So many of the people that celebrated with us over the years have moved on to their heavenly home. All of my Dad's family is gone. My Dad was the baby of the family, (which is why I think he loved me so much - we could relate to each other) and he was the last to leave the Earth. My Mom has only one sister left. My sister has been dead for almost 13 years. Thank God I still have my Mom. At 88, she's a little forgetful and a bit unsteady on her feet. I wish that I could have my Mom of 10 years ago to go Christmas shopping with me. But she's still here with me and if that's the best I can do, then I'll take it!
I wonder if all my dearly departed loved ones are getting ready to celebrate Christmas in Heaven. It only makes sense to me that everyone in Heaven would be preparing to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Not the kind of Chuck E. Cheese birthday celebration, but a divine celebration. With choirs of angels and awesome beauty.
For those I love, I think of making this Christmas the best! I've not worked since March, so even though my husband makes a good living, there won't be any extravagant, over-the-top gifts under the tree. No plasma TV’s (I bought one for my husband for Father's Day) or shiny new BMW's with a big red bow in the driveway, like you see in the commercials (Does anybody REALLY do this, by the way?). No, the kids have indicated their contentment and have asked for relatively small items. My husband has asked for gloves, which I'll gladly spend an entire afternoon searching for the ideal pair. He is such a wonderful man and gives of himself unselfishly every day of the year. It's because of him that I am able to be an old-fashioned, stay-at-home Mom.
For some of my friends, this will be a sad Christmas. Some are unemployed, not by their own choice, and this year has been difficult for them. My heart goes out to them and I pray that they will find inner peace, and gainful employment, in the coming year.
I think about my children too. One is mine by choice; a "step son" if you will. He is a wonderful, kind-hearted kid that has had a couple of tough breaks. The break up of his parents, probably being the worst. I often wonder if he'll come to see me in the "old folks home". I hope so. The other is a rapturous 11-year old boy that is the apple of his mother's eye. He's sweet, sentimental and loveable.
I now know what my Mom meant when she said she didn't want anything "material" for Christmas, she just wanted her family to be happy and healthy. I wish the same for my family now, so many years later. Making memories for my kids so they can have wonderful reminiscences when they’re grown, is my main objective. Life is what you make it. Our time here on Earth is fleeting, at best. We can make life wonderful for those we love by being kind, considerate and caring.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Vacations. The stuff that summers are made of...
Why do I feel like I need a vacation when I return from one? I just spent eight days "on the road" with my husband, youngest son and the kid-across-the-street.
Our family vacation was part work, but mostly play-time. (My husband owns an entertainment company. People pay him "the big bucks" to make them dance and have a good time.) Hubby was booked for a wedding in Eureka Springs, Arkansas so we loaded up the whole fam-damily into our mini-van (I can't believe we have a mini-van...the new millennium equivalent to the Ford Country Squire station wagon) and drove the six-hours to Arkansas. Upon our arrival, I found the grandiose Crescent Hotel to be a bit sad. The halls are not air conditioned. To be more specific, it was darned hot. Our room was "quaint and cozy" just as described on the elaborate website. *Please note: another word for "quaint and cozy" is small and run-down. Thankfully, the room was equipped with a 21st-century a/c unit the I promptly cranked down to a more civilized 70 degrees.
The next time I talk about staying at a historic hotel, please, someone hit me over the head with a frying pan or take my temperature, or something!
The Crescent Hotel has had a variety of incarnations. Not to be confused with re-incarnation...the stuff of ghost stories and ghoulish tales.
The year is 1884 and the “healing waters” of the Ozarks had become well known across the nation. People were swarming to Eureka Springs in hopes of curing their ailments and easing their pains. Developers planned to take advantage of these travelers by building the most luxurious resort in the country. And so the Crescent Hotel was born. Unfortunately, people found out that the "healing waters" weren't so healing. The hotel began to suffer. In 1908, the hotel was turned into a women's college, more specifically, The Crescent College and Conservatory for Young Women. Beyond the time the hotel spent as a women's college, a "quack" doctor named Norman Baker purchased the hotel for a mere $40,000 (why can't I ever find a deal like this???) and opened his cancer hospital. People in the 1930's were desperate for a cancer cure and flocked to the hospital making Dr. Baker a very rich man. Over the years, many people died in the hotel and thus, the story goes, the property is haunted.
While my husband made people dance, myself, my son and the kid-across-the-street went ghost hunting. For a mere $18.00 a person, you can hear all the horrible tales as told by area locals that are really raking in the bucks. I counted 47 people on our tour. At $18 each, that's nearly $850.00 Not bad for a night's work. (My husband did manage to beat the ghosts, and we got a free room to boot!) They conduct ghost tours every night. If you're lucky (or un-lucky, depending upon how you look at it)you may see an apparition, or feel a "cold spot" hence, a ghost is nearby!
Sadly, the only ghosts we saw were those of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln floating out of our wallet...
The next day is Sunday and we enjoy a complimentary brunch, also part of my husband's stipend. Life is good. I almost feel like a celebrity. Or, more like the wife of a celebrity...
Next stop, St. Louis!!!! And the arch! The gateway to the west!!! When you're up in the arch, you can feel a gentle sway. It's supposed to do this, I'm told. Quite frankly, it scares me. I can just imagine the entire arch swaying too far one way or the other and all of the tourists crashing to the ground in a heap of cameras, sunglasses and bags of souveniers.
A trip to the top of the arch is a little cheaper than ghost hunting in Arkansas, but not much. They get you in the gift shop, where I bought t-shirts, key chains, mugs, the typical tourist-trash. Love St. Louis.
The next day we head for Louisville!! Woo-Hoo!!! The home of the Louisville Slugger! That's one tour I'll skip. Let the husband take the young son and the kid-from-across-the-street.
I love Louisville. Maybe it's just the fact that it's the south. Everything is more genteel and people talk with a slight southern drawl...or maybe it's the old southern mansions with their huge white columns and rolling blue-green lawns. I can just imagine myself inhabiting one of these grandioise houses, floating around the house in a strand of pearls and a cashmere sweater set, sipping a mint-julip and planning our annual Derby-party. Just a typical southern housewife... Sadly, after spending all my money on ghost-hunts in Arkansas and key-chains in St. Louis, there's no money left in the budget to buy a mansion in Louisville. Darn! Someday I'll learn to budget my money better!
After spending several relaxing days with friends in Louisville, (pronounced Lou-ville by the locals) we move on to my in-laws house in Tennessee. Very nice, down-to-earth folks.
Now, I'm not a country girl at all. My friends will tell you that taking me for a weekend in the country is like pulling off artificial fingernails, or selling off my handbag collection at a garage sale. But my in-laws do country living right; they live on a golf course in a resort!
Ah yes! Nothing like coffee on the deck as you look out over the ninth hole with the mountains in the background. I think I almost like the country!
The best thing about visiting my in-lawws, is that my mother-in-law is an amazing cook. She just "whips-up" these wonderfully tasty, stick-to-your-ribs meals. I can't stay too long or I'll find myself the star of a bad reality show about the 600 lb. Dallas mom.
Our family vacation was part work, but mostly play-time. (My husband owns an entertainment company. People pay him "the big bucks" to make them dance and have a good time.) Hubby was booked for a wedding in Eureka Springs, Arkansas so we loaded up the whole fam-damily into our mini-van (I can't believe we have a mini-van...the new millennium equivalent to the Ford Country Squire station wagon) and drove the six-hours to Arkansas. Upon our arrival, I found the grandiose Crescent Hotel to be a bit sad. The halls are not air conditioned. To be more specific, it was darned hot. Our room was "quaint and cozy" just as described on the elaborate website. *Please note: another word for "quaint and cozy" is small and run-down. Thankfully, the room was equipped with a 21st-century a/c unit the I promptly cranked down to a more civilized 70 degrees.
The next time I talk about staying at a historic hotel, please, someone hit me over the head with a frying pan or take my temperature, or something!
The Crescent Hotel has had a variety of incarnations. Not to be confused with re-incarnation...the stuff of ghost stories and ghoulish tales.
The year is 1884 and the “healing waters” of the Ozarks had become well known across the nation. People were swarming to Eureka Springs in hopes of curing their ailments and easing their pains. Developers planned to take advantage of these travelers by building the most luxurious resort in the country. And so the Crescent Hotel was born. Unfortunately, people found out that the "healing waters" weren't so healing. The hotel began to suffer. In 1908, the hotel was turned into a women's college, more specifically, The Crescent College and Conservatory for Young Women. Beyond the time the hotel spent as a women's college, a "quack" doctor named Norman Baker purchased the hotel for a mere $40,000 (why can't I ever find a deal like this???) and opened his cancer hospital. People in the 1930's were desperate for a cancer cure and flocked to the hospital making Dr. Baker a very rich man. Over the years, many people died in the hotel and thus, the story goes, the property is haunted.
While my husband made people dance, myself, my son and the kid-across-the-street went ghost hunting. For a mere $18.00 a person, you can hear all the horrible tales as told by area locals that are really raking in the bucks. I counted 47 people on our tour. At $18 each, that's nearly $850.00 Not bad for a night's work. (My husband did manage to beat the ghosts, and we got a free room to boot!) They conduct ghost tours every night. If you're lucky (or un-lucky, depending upon how you look at it)you may see an apparition, or feel a "cold spot" hence, a ghost is nearby!
Sadly, the only ghosts we saw were those of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln floating out of our wallet...
The next day is Sunday and we enjoy a complimentary brunch, also part of my husband's stipend. Life is good. I almost feel like a celebrity. Or, more like the wife of a celebrity...
Next stop, St. Louis!!!! And the arch! The gateway to the west!!! When you're up in the arch, you can feel a gentle sway. It's supposed to do this, I'm told. Quite frankly, it scares me. I can just imagine the entire arch swaying too far one way or the other and all of the tourists crashing to the ground in a heap of cameras, sunglasses and bags of souveniers.
A trip to the top of the arch is a little cheaper than ghost hunting in Arkansas, but not much. They get you in the gift shop, where I bought t-shirts, key chains, mugs, the typical tourist-trash. Love St. Louis.
The next day we head for Louisville!! Woo-Hoo!!! The home of the Louisville Slugger! That's one tour I'll skip. Let the husband take the young son and the kid-from-across-the-street.
I love Louisville. Maybe it's just the fact that it's the south. Everything is more genteel and people talk with a slight southern drawl...or maybe it's the old southern mansions with their huge white columns and rolling blue-green lawns. I can just imagine myself inhabiting one of these grandioise houses, floating around the house in a strand of pearls and a cashmere sweater set, sipping a mint-julip and planning our annual Derby-party. Just a typical southern housewife... Sadly, after spending all my money on ghost-hunts in Arkansas and key-chains in St. Louis, there's no money left in the budget to buy a mansion in Louisville. Darn! Someday I'll learn to budget my money better!
After spending several relaxing days with friends in Louisville, (pronounced Lou-ville by the locals) we move on to my in-laws house in Tennessee. Very nice, down-to-earth folks.
Now, I'm not a country girl at all. My friends will tell you that taking me for a weekend in the country is like pulling off artificial fingernails, or selling off my handbag collection at a garage sale. But my in-laws do country living right; they live on a golf course in a resort!
Ah yes! Nothing like coffee on the deck as you look out over the ninth hole with the mountains in the background. I think I almost like the country!
The best thing about visiting my in-lawws, is that my mother-in-law is an amazing cook. She just "whips-up" these wonderfully tasty, stick-to-your-ribs meals. I can't stay too long or I'll find myself the star of a bad reality show about the 600 lb. Dallas mom.
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