Documentation

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

The Declaration of Independance is housed in the National Archives (pictured above). I had a list of three things I wanted to see: Lincoln Memorial, The Smithsonian Institute, and the Declaration of Independance.

I could not take pictures, while inside, but even if I could, it wouldn't have mattered because the actual document is very faded. I could barely make out John Hancock's John Hancock.

Dinner on the Potomac.

They Aren't Playing Today

Yesterday Glory and I flew into Washington D.C. and yes, it was on September 11th. The day started at 4:30 in the morning Atlanta time. Keep in mind I operate on Texas time (one hour earlier). I learned a long time ago that since I was the person responsible for my own luggage that I should always pack light and always have suitcases with wheels. I had one 29 lb. bag on wheels (I know this because they weigh them at check in now). I also had my carry on which was nothing more than my Bi-Pap machine. Glory decided to put the Bi-Pap machine in a small suitcase with wheels (smart) and include her overflow items. We couldn’t zip her luggage up, so out came another suitcase (no wheels). Glory has not mastered the art of packing light. At this point we were now up to 4 suitcases and a carry-on that had magazines, books and a laptop in it. We were doomed.

We loaded into a cab at 5:30 a.m. (4:30 TX) and headed to the airport. When we get to the airport Glory asks, “Where’s my suitcase with all my clothes in it?” I said, “I thought you got it.” She said, “I THOUGHT YOU GOT IT!” MAN! It was horrible, but we had to release it to the Universe and move on. Glory started her vacation with only T-shirts, underwear, dress shoes, and the clothes on her back.

Moving in to check-in, the woman at security wearing a Bridgett Wig was checking everyone’s id and boarding pass. In line I could hear her mantra: “They’re not playing today.” I didn’t have my id ready when I got to her and she said, “They’re not playing today, have your stuff ready.” Glory apologized and told her we were “a mess” this morning. She said, “You can’t be a mess ‘cause they aren’t playing today.”

From there we proceeded to the scanning part of the process. I had to remove my shoes and jacket. They scanned and picked through everything. They took out my lip-gloss and perfume and travel sized face soap and put it all in a zip lock bag. You can only take 3 ounces of liquid on a plane now.

We made it on the plane and had a very uneventful flight. The pilot flew us up the Potomac and then banked left to the Ronald Reagan Airport. I looked out my window for something recognizable, when there it stood: The Pentagon. I was so amazed. It was real and right there in front of me, not a scratch on it. I was so happy to see it and so proud. I have been experiencing a lot of feelings here in this great place. Washington D.C. is only 6 square miles in size and every inch of it is packed with our history.

God Bless America!

Evolution of a Bathroom

I moved into my house in October of 1992. I love this place. I feel more at home here than in any place I have ever lived. That being said, if you look around my house, it looks like I haven't fully settled in. As a matter of fact, when Glory came to visit she pointed out that I had a tendency to start projects and not finish them. Like that was a revelation to anyone. I am a starter. Glory is a closer.

One day about 6 months ago the housekeepers call me into the bathroom and TA-DA they have purchased and installed a new burgundy shower curtain. I think they felt my plaid one wasn't feminine enough. I was so taken with their kindness that I decided to go with the new curtain and decorate all around it.

I tried to recruit Lucas to help and of course he said yes. Time passed and when days turned into weeks turned into months I gave up. Then someone else volunteered, but their life got in the way of that as well.

One day Joanne Ray came over to get something at my house and said, "Harry's leaving town Friday, let's paint your bathroom." I thought, suuuure, O.K. and I left it at that. What I forgot: Joanne is a closer! Eight a.m. Friday morning she shows up and hauls me out of bed. I had to commit to a color and there was NO TIME for indecision, or coffee! I had two ideas in my head: Northern Green or Romeo Pink, but what to choose. So since I have wanted a pink room since high school, I decided to let ROMEO make my dreams come true. Man, this pink looks delicious. Like cotton candy.

Joanne worked hard. She kept kicking me out of the bathroom because I was wheezing. So, she painted while I sewed curtains for the window and vanity or took naps. I got a new towel rod and matching toilet paper holder. Joanne made a frame to go around my mirror and we painted it Northern Green (I had a quart on hand). Rick Stanley came over and intalled the frame on the mirror and the cat door to the bathroom closet. I hung a picture painted by Dana Taggart that I got in the YL Rummage Sale.

Joanne spray painted the white wicker stool brown and the cats got a new perfectly pink drinking cup provided by my sister Glory. Now finally, I think I can say that for the first time since moving in, one room of my house is completely finished.

Cute cup for the cats. They'll break it, I'm sure.

A bathroom within a bathroom.

And after all that, I would only change one thing: the shower curtain!!!! LOL!

Don't Ask Questions

I need to adopt the motto of my brother David: "Don't ask questions." Why? Because asking questions draws you in to the arena of the involved.

Case in point, I went to visit my teacher friend Kimber two weeks ago and she asked me if I wanted a kitten. People think that if you have a "slight" tendency to rescue things that you are open to any and all rescue opportunities. Like I'm a super hero or something. As a matter of fact, they rely on you to be the one to act and therefore don't act themselves.

Of course I told her, "NO I don't want a kitten (lie)!" And of course, I didn't leave it at that. I started asking questions.

"Where is the kitten?" I asked. She informs me she was jogging in the back of Rockport Country Club and stopped at one of the greens to look in a water hazard for frogs. In the tall grass along the water's edge she saw a small kitten rustling about. She said it was young. "HOW young?" I queried. Pretty young was her response. So I made her show me with her hands. She made a shape about the size of a biscuit. Then she added, "I just don't want it to get eaten by an alligator.

THAT'S IT, I'm ON the CASE! Ladies and gentlemen, there is a sucker born every minute, and I AM that sucker.

I arrived at the appropriate green and saw something moving back in to the grass. When I got out of my car there were some old geezers in plaid pants trying to sink their putts, OBLIVIOUS to the wild screaming of a kitten in distress. I walked over to where the little one was hiding and asked if he needed help. He ran out of the grass STRAIGHT to me, yowling at the top of his lungs. I scooped him up only to find him covered in fire ants at which point I started yowling. We then went home to prepare a bottle and start looking for adopters. Thankfully the kitten I fondly called Tiger Woods was adopted by Shane and Cyndea Sampson. He goes to live with Tag the cat, Bo the Great Dane and Merle the German Short Haired Pointer. Good luck kitty, at least you aren't sleeping with the alligators.

More Tales from the Crypt

I was in Cedar Hill, TX this week visiting the Luster's. During one of our errands Raymond asked if I'd like to go check out the pet cemetery. I'm not kidding, the minute the possibility was out there I new it was going to be the HIGHLIGHT of our vacation. I can't explain it, but once we got inside the Pet Memorial Park we ran around "like kids in a candy store".

We marveled and the age of some of the tombstones,

the oldest one being Ginger 1933-1947.

It looks like from her picture, Ginger was Jo and Sam Donosky's Boston Terrier. I wonder if Jo and Sam are still alive?

In the back of the cemetery we found a bunch of tombstones belonging to the pets of Janis Fisher. She put a scripture on every headstone.

A righteous man has regard for the life of his animal,

But even the compassion of the wicked is cruel.

Proverbs 12:10

~

Both Raymond and I decided our adventure was blog worthy, so we returned the next day - kids, camera, and Kleenex in hand. I also grabbed my bible so Raymond could read the scriptures on Ms. Fisher's tombstones.

You guys don't have to be told again how much I love scripture (or pets), but reading them in a pet cemetery was so funny. I laughed so much I wondered for a minute if I was being disrespectful. It was so much fun...and endearing.

Laughing or crying? You decided.

Oh yes, and I wanted to mention that another thing we marveled at was all the names. You could find the stock pet names like Skippy, Buster, and Happy. But there were also some high brows in amongst the muts, like the Duchess of Bordeaux Hill and Lambchop Von Hertz (Lamby the Loyal).

And of course, there were A LOT of Gingers!

Please click on Cat's Photo Album at the right hand side of this post and then look at ALL the Pet Cemetery pictures. I took lots of pictures of tombstones knowing that each one represents tons of happy memories.

Deer Me

When you look out my kitchen window you see this pretty little table and chairs. I was inspired to put a pot of Impatients on the table so when I do dishes there would be something lovely to look at. The Impatients were a perfect fro of green foliage with a crown of delicate pedal pink flowers all over the top. And then one morning......


I looked out and notice half of the plant was gone. At first I thought in a panick: CUT ANTS! I ran out to investigate and immediately realized that it wasn't cut ants because there were three flowers left, (cut ants would have striped it bare). That's when it hit me......deer!

And then they returned for seconds.

What is YOUR Favorite Scripture?

What is YOUR favorite scripture? I concede how hard it is to pick a favorite verse especially if a person is new to Christianity, but I venture to say that most Christians could pick a favorite verse or maybe even rattle of several favorites. My favorite scripture (for the past couple of years) is pretty much all of Philipians 2, but here is just a sampling:

5 Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus,
6 who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped,
7 but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men.
8 Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

As Christians we are asked to empty ourselvse of our attitudes and take on Jesus' attitude. We are to not regard what we think we are ENTITLED to as a thing to be grasp but instead humbly serve others. Noble aspirations indeed.

Dog Days of Summer

Rusty the Golden Labratriever

I'm a dog sitter. I don't know how this happened, people just started calling me. So I made up some business cards and the ladies at Be Stylin' pass them out for me.

I called my service "Relief Sitter" because I know first hand the relief of having someone really care for my pets when I'm away.
Even though I like dogs now, this was not always the case. Cookie (my dog) is the one who enlightened me about the world of dogs. Dogs like us (humans) and dogs get lonely. So when I go to someone's house I try to go several times a day. If I don't have to spend the night in the dog house I will rent a movie and we watch it together before I go home for the evening.

Latley one of the perks to dog sitting is great views. So I just pretend I'm on a vacation retreat and sip my morning coffee while looking at the view. The dog will usually do it's business, roll around in the grass, chase things that don't exist and return to join me on the porch.
Until lately business has been so slow that I don't even consider it a reliable source of income anymore, so when I do get a job, it's gravy. In other words, I get to spend the money on things I need/want but are outside the budget, like haircare products and little pony Dr. Peppers.

On the downside however, jobs that last more than two days can be hard because I end up suffering from separation anxiety when the job is over.

I Just Called 911

For real....I just called 911!!!!!

Calling the police is nothing unusual for me, well not since, you know, that unfortunate home invasion back in 2002 (give or take a year). I didn't even call them that night. I'm still kicking myself over that one. Who did I call? Well Anne of course. She was the one who ended up calling 911, while I was dodging the knife welding sexual assaulter. And even though I emerged unharmed it was still NO bueno...ugh. They didn't catch him.

Since that fateful night I have called 911 3 time, well 4 if you include tonight. Here is my call log:

I called one night because while watching TV at 1 a.m. I noticed my cat who, lying there peacefully, suddenly became alarmed and looked at the curtains covering the sliding glass door. I looked only to see the shadow of a man swaying back and forth trying to see in the curtains. They didn't catch him.

I called again on a later date because there was a knock at my door after 11 p.m. and the knocker would not identify himself. They didn't catch him.

I also called because my garage door opened for NO reason. The cop asked me if I could have opened it accidentally. NO, that's crazy, how could that have happened? After he left I went back to digging in my purse for a pen. Turns out my garage door opener was in my purse. I DID DO IT! And although I was a person of interest, they didn't catch me.

Tonight I called because while Cookie and I are trying to go to sleep we heard a horrible bang outside...like a boom....like a gun. So the dispatcher asked me to state my "emergency" and as I told her it sounded like a gun shot, I realized I didn't know what I was taking about. What does a gun sound like anyway? So I said, maybe a small explosive, like a fire cracker. Anyway, I think I used enough adjectives to get my point across. In the belief that it is their job to "protect and to serve" I asked if they would send an officer out to parole the area. And they did, I saw him driving behind ACE Hardware with his floodlight blazing.

I wonder if they caught him?

Bowling for Campers

For the past two years Shane Sampson, our local Young Life leader, has arranged for kids to "earn" some or all of their camp cost by particiapating in a Bowl-a-Thon. This year I decided to join them getting sponsors of my own. Shane said we would get paid per pin, counting the best two out of three games.

I don't think I have EVER bowled higher than a 90. As a matter a fact, in the 80's I would go bowling on Saturdays with the "singles" group of a church I was attending. Singles consisted of me, my brother David, my mom, my future sister-in-law Marla, a single mother named Holly and her 6 year old daughter....well you get the idea, we were a diverse group. I think I have bowled twice since those days back at the Branches of Faith, so as far as my game goes, I am not that big a threat to any of my sponsor's pocket books. Let's put it this way, back in the 80's, the 6 year old consistently beat me. I hated her.

So at 5:30 p.m. this evening I showed up at Sully Lanes in Aransas Pass hoping to reach my first goal, which was finding a ball that weighed less than 8 lbs. I found a lovely pink one.

During the course of the night I got two strikes and two spares, however my score for game one was 87. All games from this point on had plummeting scores due to exhaustion. I knocked down 83 pins in game two. And game three was a dismal 53: gutter balls galore!

To my sponsors, I say THANK YOU!

I was able to raise $131.40 for campers.

To all others, if you would like to sponsor me

"after the fact" feel free

to send a check made out to Young Life.

You can put "camp" in the memo!