Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Beginnings: Cha-Cha-Cha-Changes

Beginnings: Cha-Cha-Cha-Changes: This isn't one of my normally light hearted posts so you might want to skip this one... "Change is our only constant." No...

Cha-Cha-Cha-Changes

This isn't one of my normally light hearted posts so you might want to skip this one...

"Change is our only constant." Normally, I like change. New experiences, new opportunities, new ways of learning, doing, hearing, new friends, etc. generally, I see change as a good thing. Whether its my short attention span or my disdain for all things boring, I tend to embrace changes that lead me down different paths or stretch my imagination or test my talents.

One area of my life, however that resists change is in my relationships. While I tend to be guarded in my relationships, once one crosses into the "friend" column for me, they are there for life. For me, "friend" is sacred. I actually have very few people that I'd put into that category. Now, lest you think of me as anti-social, let me explain. I have lots of acquaintances. These are people whose company I enjoy and with whom I would enjoy conversation and socialization in group settings. We laugh together, share stories and have fun. These people are not my friends, they are acquaintances.

With my friends, I share my soul.

I have difficulty dealing with emotional issues. I am much more comfortable with solving logistical, mechanical and physical problems and hurts. If there is a situation that involves figuring out how to make something happen or to remedy a situation that does not require an emotional solution, I'm your girl. I fix things.

My heartache comes from relationships that I can not fix. While I know and understand that relationships change, and I accept that my acquaintances will drift in and out of my life, when friends break away, a part of my heart is damaged. Most recently, a friend has drifted. This friend touched my soul from the minute we met. I recognized something in them that felt like a puzzle piece had slipped into place and now, the piece is slipping away and I feel the loss. Please don't interpret this friendship as anything more than a purely platonic, true FRIENDSHIP. It has been a gift and I am saddened that it is changing. I want to fix it but I just don't have the tools.

On a much lighter, happier note. Two couples who are definitely friends have relocated much closer to us. Candee and Bob have moved 1500 miles closer and are now within easy walking distance to us. Candee will definitely be a project buddy and I can't wait to learn some new hobbies from her. Jim and Kathy have moved just across the river so Kathy and I are looking forward to many more chances to sit and sip and Haime couldn't be happier that he has two more people with whom he can play golf .

Yes, change happens. People come in and out of our lives and its important that we make sure that they know how much we love them while they are a part of us. 

Thanks for sticking with me,

TTFN
Lois



Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Don't Ick on my WOW!


I am a woman with many, MANY, diverse interests. There is basically a nearly inexhaustible list of things that I like, am interested in, fascinated by, find pleasure with, and bring me joy. I am drawn to all kinds and medium of art, I love adventure, travel feeds my soul and working with my hands makes me feel accomplished. In short, I am constantly "WOWed".
  
Recently, some friends and I travelled by cruise ship some ports in the Western Caribbean. For me, cruising is best when you have lots of ports to visit. I love to explore. Well, during our "sea days," I was drawn to the art auctions. Now, I realize that these copies of prints by cruise-ship-associated artists will never be priceless heirlooms to be passed from
generation to generation, I enjoy the auctions and have, on occasion, made purchases. I must say, however, that I am not enamored with all of the art on display for your possible purchasing pleasure. Some, in my opinion is simply hideous! I am always amazed at what some people go "gaga" for. It's true, I've learned, that beauty really is in the eye of the beholder. Anyway, my friends Candee and Bob were with me on this most recent cruise and patiently sat with me through some of the auctions. We were discussing the interesting choices of some of the fellow patrons when they told me what an auctioneer had cautioned the patrons at an auction that they had attended. Prior to the start of the auction, the auctioneer identified some typical ground rules then added one that she indicated was the most important: "Don't Ick anyone else's Wow." I LOVE that!
 
Think about all of the hurt feelings and silly squabbles and potential break-ups that could be prevented if we all agreed not to Ick each other's WOW! Now, of course we must draw the line on when Icks must be given, (and there are times when they must be given...), one should always try and Ick a girlfriend's wow when said girlfriend is attracted to Larry-the-Loser, for example. Oh and if the person with whom you may share a bed/apartment/house etc. wants to hang some ridiculously dark and depressing monstrosity in your shared space because said monstrosity makes a "statement," this must also be Icked! Yes, I know, you are thinking that "Lois, you  just admitted to the beauty in the eye, thing." So, lets agree that when hanging "statement" pieces in a shared space, the vote should be unanimous.
 
Some of you, regular readers, know that I suffer from chronic wanderlust. I must travel. It is as important to me as chocolate chip cookies to the Cookie Monster. Now, depending on which side of the argument I want to take, for better or worse, Hymie does not share my need to see the world. He is more than content to stay at home where he can piddle and maintain his daily routines and sleep on his side of his own bed. Fortunately, Hymie does not "Ick my Wow" when I am compelled to get my travel fix. He is not always "over the moon" with my destination choices and sometimes my timing needs to be adjusted, but as long as I don't travel alone, (and he feels much better when my mom steps in as my travel buddy), and I promise to come home, he is fine with me having my travel WOW. The biggest Ick to the travel WOW, for me is rude people. Whether its a rude clerk, a fellow traveler who causes the rest of us to be late due to their refusal to arrive at a departure location on time, a rude waiter, etc., rude people definitely "Ick my WOW!"
 
I hope that you find this catchy little idiom as cool as I do and that you consider using it yourself and even if you don't, please just don't "ick MY wow!"
 
TTFN,
 
Lois
 


Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Mid-Century Home, with a Twist

I love watching house hunting, home decorating and DIY landscaping television shows. Being an amateur woodworker, I get some "food for creativity" from watching these shows. One trend I've noticed recently is the number of home-buyers who are looking for "Mid-Century" style homes. These are homes that were built in the 1950s and early 60s. My parents bought one of these homes in the 1960s and my mom still lives in it today.  My parents have done some remodeling and some updating but it remains a mid-century style home.

As part of an expansion and remodel about 25 years ago, my parents enlarged their kitchen and purchased one of the first down-draft ranges. We all thought it was pretty cool because you could interchange range top "burners" for a griddle or for a "grilling" attachment. Then, because the fumes of what you were cooking, were "sucked" out through an exhaust system, (that sounded like it was powered by some engine from NASA), we felt like we were closely tied to the new "space age."

So, the range worked really well, of course there were countless trays of burnt cookies over the years that were blamed on the oven not working properly, but, aside from that, no complaints. Recently, however, there have been some pretty serious issues that have arisen. So, my sister, Karen and her hubby, Robert, decided to purchase a new stove for mom. They took mom to one of the big box stores, (which shall remain nameless), and let her take her pick. They explained to the sales rep that mom was replacing her current down-draft stove but that she was not married to the plan of replacing it with another down-draft. Mom explained how her exhaust system worked and where the ducting for the exhaust came into the stove and exited the house. After a LOT of looking and discussion, they decided to go with a more conventional stove.

Now, convention is a subjective descriptor. The machine they purchased is a beast! It has a ceramic stove top and a gigantic oven which is capable of baking three levels of cookies at a time. (Yes, I have a bit of an issue with cookies, one can never have enough, you know!) Now that it is installed, mom couldn't be happier with her selection. HOWEVER, getting it installed was much less satisfying and much more stressful.

One of my long-running rants/issues/peeves with large box hardware stores, especially the orange one, is that customer service is pretty much non-existent. That trend certainly held for mom's experience with her new range. You see, despite her having given detailed description of the venting system for her old stove, that information was not forwarded to the installers. When her stove was delivered, the first installation team refused to install because the old one was "hard-wired." So, mom called in an electrician to put in a plug. I phoned the big-box and told the manager that the wiring was completed and ready for the installers to come back as agreed. I was transferred three times, then told they would phone me later. Well, later became the next day. At that time, we were told that a different installer would be coming to do the work. We, however would be required to wait until he contacted us.

The installer came a couple of days later and started work. He was, however, not informed about the return ducting from the old stove and insisted that he be paid an additional $100 to do the work. I advised him that his issue was with the big box store, not with me. After a few tense moments and after I spoke with the correct person at the big box, the manager acknowledged that we had given all the information about the ventilation system so they would cover the additional cost.

One final issue arose with the stove. You might recall that I mentioned that my parents had done some renovations on the house. Well, part of that renovation included custom cabinetry in the kitchen, the customization included making the cabinets slightly taller than standard. Well, that little snowball caused another problem. The stove mom and my sister chose has a really cool lip that is designed to cover the "crumb catching" space between the stove and the cabinetry. Well...since the cabinets are taller than average, the stove did not fit. Fortunately, we found some plywood that worked well in allowing us to adjust the height so the stove slide in as designed.

In the end, the only thing that matters is that mom loves her new stove. However, let me just give any of you future renovators a suggestion. Unfortunately, cookie-cutter is the norm. Everything you do that is outside the norm has a series of consequences. Many of those consequences will continue to show themselves at the most unexpected times and in the least convenient times.

TTFN,

 
Lois


 

Friday, March 20, 2015

Carrying My Heart



Thirty one years ago, on March 21, 1984, I learned what it meant to carry my heart in my hands for the first time. I became someone's mom. HOLY COW! There is just no way to understand what that means. If you are a parent, you know what I'm talking about. Suddenly, you are supposed to be responsible for this squiggly little human. Well, let me back up. Let's talk about how my first squiggly little human got here. Well, we're not going to go into all of the details about how he got here, let me just tell you about the day he finally decided to make an appearance.
Chip was due to arrive on, or about, March 2, 1984. For those of you who are not familiar with Texas history, March 2 is Texas Independence Day. I thought that was an appropriate delivery date, after all, he is a Texan and I was ready to have him independent from my ever-increasing belly! Well, March 2, came and went, as did March 3, 4, 5 and so on. Finally my labor was induced on March 21. (Do the math, that's almost 3 weeks late, by then, I was HUGE!) Anyway, think about it, why would any baby be in a rush to venture out of the relative comfort of the womb? They are warm, never hungry, get rocked all the time, I mean, really, what's their rush? As you might also surmise, while he was lolly-gagging about making his appearance, he was still growing. By the time we insisted that he join the party, he entered the world he was twenty-two and one half inches long and weighed 9 pounds 7ounces. (Yes, it was like giving birth to a rail-road tie). He had orange "carrot-shaving" hair and he was the most amazing person I had ever met. I just couldn't stop looking at him. Granted he was a newborn human, that is to say, he looked a lot like ET, but he was perfect! When the nurse placed him in my arms, I knew that my heart no longer belonged to me.  

The nurses and the hospital staff repeated told me what a wonderful baby he was. They insisted that he never cried, nor seemed unhappy, rather, they said, he is just content to sleep. Well, they were right about the sleeping while we were in the hospital. He wasn't entirely sold on the nursing-thing when the clock said it was time to feed him. He'd give it a less than half hearted try and go back to sleep. Of course, being a first-time mom, I didn't know what the heck I was doing wrong and although I checked his bassinette for them, there were no instructions for feeding, changing, holding, transferring to another person/bed/the other breast or anything!  WHAT THE HECK???
You might recall that I am the first born of five children. Well, I didn't have to do any of the parent things with my sisters and, in fact, I had no real experience with any babies. I mean, sure I thought they were cute when I saw them in church or at the grocery store or in movies but, where the heck are the instructions? I had only vaguely figured out the nursing thing and the diaper changing thing and the next thing I knew, they were sending us home.   Wait, my mom and dad had just left to visit some friends in the Valley. What do you mean we have to go home? I don't know anything yet.
 
So, we get home and all was good until the sun set. No one told me that newborn babies can cry and cry and cry for hours. I tried everything I could think of to stop the crying. I rocked him, I sang to him,  I cried with him, I tried nursing him, I walked all over the house with him, (it should be noted here that his father never moved, and never stopped snoring...nuff said). Finally, after what seemed like days, Chip exhausted himself and went to sleep. I just kept crying.

Fortunately, that was our one and only night when we were both wondering if we shouldn't find a "parenthood for morons" class. It sounds very strange, but it was almost like we came to an understanding that we were the best thing in each other's lives at that time. I think Chip realized that he was the center of my universe. I finally started to relax and really began to enjoy my new role as a mom. As he grew, and his personality really started to develop, I realized that not only did I love my child, I really liked the fun-loving little boy that he was becoming.

Chip has always loved to be challenged, he has a very quick wit, a fabulous smile and a wonderful sense of humor. When he was between three and four, Chip told us that he wanted a little brother. One Sunday, as we were leaving mass, he told us that he had taken care of getting a little brother. I asked him what he meant by that. He very sincerely said that he had prayed to God, during mass to send him a baby brother so he was sure he'd get one soon. He was correct. Reece was born about five months after Chip's fourth birthday. (You'll read more about Reece in a future post).



Chip started scouting at his first opportunity as a Tiger cub. He loved the camaraderie,
the challenge of earning badges, camping out, advancing through various ranks and testing his ability to achieve the goals that he set for himself. He earned his "Eagle Scout" rank at the age of thirteen. He is one of the youngest Eagle Scouts in the Alamo Area Chapter.

In the spring of his sophomore year of high school, we moved to Southern California. Chip did not initially want to make the move. Who could blame him? He had already suffered the growing pains of transferring from a small Catholic elementary/junior high school to a much larger public high school. He had made some good friends, dated a few girls, was involved in the band and the Jr. ROTC. Fortunately, my relationship with Chip has always been one of trust. I asked him to continue to  trust me that he would enjoy this new adventure and that if he didn't, I promised him that I'd allow him to move back to Texas to live with my parents if he was not happy in California. Then, I prayed.
Well, both the boys were expecting to live on the beach, (near bikini-clad babes), and that they'd be rubbing elbows with celebrities. Well, we moved to a region known as the "High Desert" of the state. They were initially, not impressed! However, within a very short time, they made some very good friends and are both richer for the experience.  One of the best things, in my opinion, of our time in CA was that I was hired to be an administrator at the high school that Chip, (and later, Reece) attended. (If you get a chance, ask Chip about trying to leave his computer programming class for a soda). High school is tough. Then, compound that with being the new kid for your Junior year. Sure, kids do it all the time, knowing that, however doesn't really matter as much when you are the new kid. Chip never missed a beat. He joined the band which gave him a group of students to get to know before the semester started. I was able to watch him make friends with an incredible group of young people with whom he will remain connected for a life-time. When he graduated, the first major mile-stone in a person's life, I was able to present him his diploma. WINNER!! Then, literally the morning after his graduation, he was gone. He moved back to Texas with my parents, spent the summer working, (and playing), and enrolled in Texas A&M that fall. He graduated four years later.

 During the spring semester of his sophomore year, he started dating a wonderful young woman who became his wife. Theirs is an amazing love and we are all so happy that Mallory is in our lives. They are an incredible couple because they make wonderful team. They compliment each others strengths and weaknesses. Most importantly, they are truly wonderful parents to their son, the most wonderful grandson in the history of grandsons.




If you've made it this far, thanks for indulging this mom by letting me share just a very few of the things that have bonded me so permanently to my first-born. If you stay with me, I'll ask that you allow me the indulgence of sharing some things about my second (and last) son later. For now, I'd ask you to raise a glass and toast Chip on his thirty-first birthday.
 
Someday, someone is going to have to explain how my son can be thirty one when I don't feel a day over thirty five. Oh well,
 
 
Happy Birthday Chip, I will love you through eternity.
 
 
 
 
 
TTFN,
 
Mom, (aka,Lois)
 
 

Thursday, February 5, 2015

Better Life Through Chemistry!

It's been an "E-Ticket" ride of a couple of weeks. There I go again, dating myself. For those of you who are younger than 30, "E-Ticket" refers to a pricing scheme that was popular at Disneyland. There were different entry fees charged per person, depending on which rides you wanted to include on your visit. The "E-Ticket" rides were often the most popular and/or the most thrilling. They were also the most expensive. My "E-Ticket" reference refers to challenges and emotionally charged rollercoasters.

One of the few trips Haime made with
us--Italy for one of my
"significant" birthdays
Mom had heart surgery last week. Most of you who are regular readers of this blog will remember that Barbara is not just my mom, she's my travel buddy. Haime, you'll also remember does not suffer from the wanderlust affliction that I do. He's happy being a "home body" and is happy I have Mom travelling with me.
 
The condition that Mom had repaired via the surgery was one that her doctors had been monitoring for several years. It's just been within the past six months that she had become symptomatic. So, the procedure was considered "routine" by her doctors and surgeon. Well, when we're talking about your mom rather than some "anonymous person," and heart surgery, there is no such thing as routine.

Mom was just ready to get it done. She was, as the saying goes: "tired of being tired." A few days before her surgery, Mom asked if  I would stay with her in the hospital. I told her that, that was the plan and not to worry, she would not be alone. Thankfully, God does great work and guided the surgeon through the whole thing and mom came out with no issues.

As you might expect, she was in the Intensive Care Unit for the first day and "a half," (more about the "half" later)...All of my four sisters and I were at the hospital for the surgery. We had predetermined that I would be the "sleep-over" daughter. Two of my sisters tend to "sleep LOUDLY," and we certainly didn't want to take a chance of being asked to leave; and one sister claims that she works for Cruella DeVille and could not be off of work for more than a day. Also, Haime has been in TOO many hospitals, so I have lots of practice sleeping therein. I was informed that I would be unable to sleep in the unit with mom but that there was a waiting room immediately out from it and that I could come inside to see mom as much as I wanted, anytime during the night.

When I went to see the waiting area, I was acutally thrilled because most of the chairs had no arms! As I mentioned earlier, I  have lots of experience sleeping in hospitals so I know that if there are no arms on the chairs, one can actually stretch out across several of them and maybe actually sleep. I felt like I was in HIGH COTTON! Also, I was a girl scout so I had planned well for my stay...I brought a blanket-throw, a pillow, toiletries and a few changes of clothes. The first night of my "camp-out," as I prepared to sleep, stretched out over three(ish) chairs, I learned that we were not allowed to turn off the lights...WHAT?! Oh well, I thought, I am really tired, I can probably go to sleep. WRONG! So, I devised a "light-cancelling-shelter." As you see, I butted two pairs of chairs up together and draped my blanket across the them. The chairs under the window are affixed to the floor and butt right up to the wall. The blanket end on those chairs fit very snuggly. Unfortunately, the opposite side of the blanket kept sliding off of the other chairs so I tied my shoes as anchors to each end of that side of the blanket. GENIUS! I crawled inside my new home, with my belongings with me and thought, WOW, I've just constructed, and am living in a homeless shelter tent. The five other campers were so jealous!

So, after spending that first night in the waiting room, I thought I'd be on Easy Street for the remainder of Mom's stay. We had requested a private room so I could sleep on a recliner in the room with her. Well, remember when I told you that we'd be talking about the "half" day that Mom would be in ICU? Well, the morning after her surgery, we were told that Mom would be moved to her room as soon as the person currently occupying it, was discharged. Unfortunately, we learned later that the bed was in a semi-private room, which was not ideal but at least Mom would be out of ICU. That fell through, however when we learned that the other person in the room had contracted the flu. We continued to wait for a room throughout the day. Finally, about 10:30 that night, I reestablished "Camp Aggie" (more classy than Homeless Camp), and dove in for the night. At about 12:15, the ICU nurse came knocking on my tent to say that Mom was moving to a room...that's 12:15! (They call Vegas the place that never sleeps...)

So, by 1:30 AM, after a little bit more "musical hospital room changes," we settled in for the night. Mostly the next few days passed without incident. And with the aide of Milk of Magnesia, everything finally passed as well. Finally, on the fifth day, Mom made her escape. I drove the get-away car and we turned for home. Once there, I organized her meds and made sure that two of my sisters, who would be staying with Mom over the weekend, knew what the new temporary "normal" looked like. As I left Mom in their very capable hands, I realized for the first time what an adrenaline rush I had been on for about 5 days because suddenly, I was raw and I really didn't understand why. I was never worried that Mom would not be OK, I was pleased with her progress and I had slept well. However, as I was driving home, I felt like I had nothing left...what a WIMP!!! So, I got home, fixed myself two double vodka tonics and felt the world tilt back into place...you know what they say, "Better Life Through Chemistry!"

I've included some of my favorite pics of Mom from some of our travels...enjoy
Italian Nights
    
"Cowgirl Mom" (Nashville)

 
              "Minute Mom" (Boston)
 
 
 
 
                   
                                    Travel Buddies
 
TTFN,
 
Lois
 
 
                                          
"Lobsta-Bait Mom"  
(Bar Harbor)