Janice Williams Loves Austin And sometimes I write about it.

July 17, 2012

Write While the Iron is Hot

Filed under: Travel — Janice @ 11:09 pm

I write great long pieces for my blog … in my head. Things often happen in the day and I wish I could stop and write RIGHT then. So I’m doing that right now since the spark hit just as I was between parts of a report I am transcribing and all other stars aligned, too.

My friend Deric posted on Facebook that he is at the Marfa lights right now. That brings back some GREAT memories. I really love West Texas and the Big Bend. On one trip out there I was pondering how I could start a little delivery service that would drive the long routes from house to house and bring groceries, video tapes (this was a while back, remember), books, and other necessities of life for the people there. That never happened. That was also pre-Internet when just about everything you need in terms of movies, books, information, and anything but food and medical treatment comes over the satellite right to you.

I need to get my facts and thoughts together about the trips out there so I can write a real entry about beautiful deserts and clear nights and fields of giant bluebonnets, but I want to get back to the Marfa lights.

It was probably our last trip out there and it has been years. We had never seen the Marfa lights, though we had been through Marfa. We decided we needed to try to experience them if we could. We were staying in Marfa and we drove outside of town where there is a Texas Highway Department viewing area. We pulled in and there were lots of people there already. Some were set up with cameras, others with telescopes, most just with blankets and anticipation. People were friendly and let us know that they had seen a few. They told us where to look and what we were looking for.

And boy, did we see Marfa Lights. We saw “globes” of green light or of red light or of white light appear and disappear. Or appear and dart one way or the other, not always in a straight line. Some would change colors as they moved. Sometimes there would be more than one. It was eerie and it was unexplainable. There was talk from those around us. Lots of people would say, “I know what it is, that has to be headlights from that pass through the mountains over there.” We knew where they meant because we had been through that pass earlier in the day. That seems to make sense until lights would go up or a different direction. There was no pattern to it. We finally decided to hunt down these lights!

We took off back toward town and turned up one long lonely farm road. It ended up in a dead end and nothing so we came back to the main road again. We went around another way and found a main road, but it was higher and closer than the highway where we had been. We drove and looked and saw nothing. Then we saw a much bigger red Marfa light. Still in the distance, but closer, bigger, and much spookier up close… and alone. At that point we figured our hunting wouldn’t do us any good and it has all been researched to death, so we went back to town. The next day, we bought every booklet we found in the town about the lights and read up on the stories.

You can’t say it is headlights or airplanes or even illegals with flashlights… The Marfa Lights were reported by Texans back in the times when they were sure that it was an Indian campfire. Wagon trains reported them. And there are hundreds of reports, no, probably thousands, over the years. Some up close and personal… I remember one story in a booklet about someone driving down that highway and a ball of flame or a bright globe of light chased alongside of the car and then was IN THE CAR. Augh! That would make me drive right into a road sign, I’m sure.

I don’t have any pictures and I know this isn’t a complete story, but of the many “things you have to do to call yourself a Texan,” I’m very glad I’ve seen the Marfa Lights.

July 11, 2012

It Is Today

Filed under: At home,Cats,Childhood Memories,My Job,Normal Life,Radio stuff — Janice @ 8:43 pm

My friend Jenni gave me sweet props today in her blog, which flatters me to no end. I love her words and her photos and her creative abilities when it comes to gardens, crafts, food, and friendships. I often read her blog and think, “I was going to write about that!” or “I should write about that.” I’m waiting until some time passes to when I write about it, it won’t like I’m stealing the idea.

So I’m writing tonight because someone like me. That is my primary motivation for most of the things I do, I think. I wish I could say I was driven by an inner desire to achieve. Or even money, for heaven’s sake, but more often than not, as long as someone is telling me they like what I do, I’ll keep doing it.

So this update is not going to be cohesive, but it will be an update. What is going on today?

Right this minute I have a sweet kitten in my life. Flaco is almost 4 months old now and growing so fast, but he’s still a kitten. The minute I sit at my desk he is in my lap, purring, and looking for “Mama.” I don’t have what a mama would have, but he insists on nursing on my shirt front or pajama bottoms or whatever the case may be, looking for what a mama could give him. He was a little bottle baby, abandoned practically at birth, so he never knew a mama, or not for very long anyway, but his instincts are there.

I got a new phone today. I am anything but an “early adopter” when it comes to technology. I only got my first smart phone about 18 months ago. But it has not been a phone that has made me happy (it never tells me I’m doing a good job) so today I took advantage of my upgrade and got a new Samsung Galaxy SIII, the newest and best, I hear. So far I’ve made phone calls and sent texts with it so I’m happy with that part. And, lo and behold, I can text on that touch screen. When Mark got his first iPhone I couldn’t, for the life of me, hit the right keys. This one is very perceptive and you can even just drag your finger around the keyboard, it doesn’t even have to be touched. New innovations. So I am an early adopter for the first time and I truly believe I will have the newest and best cell phone in America until probably Monday when something new will hit the stores. Now that all smart phones look alike, no one knows how revolutionary right now.

Another big focus of the day is the MOLD in the air. If there is something in the air in Austin, I am bound to be allergic to it. Cedar, ragweed, elm, oak, grass, and mold are my nemisises (… nemasisae? I’m trying to remember my Latin plurals, but I can’t with a head full of snot). I had been watching the mold get higher and higher and didn’t know if rain downpours would clean the air, like it does for the tree and grass pollens, or make it worse because it is, after all, mold. It is definitely the latter. I watched Jim Spencer’s KXAN weather this evening and his lead story was the VERY HIGH mold count at 27000+ particles per square meter… the highest reading he has every seen in the last 20 years or so. More rain tonight and possibly tomorrow and then the molds will probably grow even harder and faster for a week or more, so I am anticipating lots of breathing through my mouth and sore throat and sneezing as if I were one of the seven dwarves.

I am VERY happy for the rain, though. Do not get me wrong on that. Monday evening, a downpour that I got caught in, Tuesday another, today another and I was out in this one, too, and more on the way. It is a rare July to get this much rain and I’m happy for it.

Another issue of the day is that I have “the zaps.” If you’ve ever had them, you know what they are. Tiny electrical jolts coming from the brain and coursing through the neurological system of the body. It comes from changing from one medication to another. I guess technically it is just from going off the first one, but I was hoping the zaps would be minimal since I’m going on another, but we’ll have to wait and see. This has been two days of zaps, with them getting particularly bad today. It’s not just the jolt, it is also the briefest moment of discombobulation, like when the elevator starts or stops too fast. As for the electricity, I can state for certain that it IS electricity from my childhood experiments.

When I was a kid, we had cows in our pastures and Daddy had an electric fence up around the pasture to keep the cows in. It had a box the size of a car battery that hung on the wall in the barn and two glowing spheres of red would flash on and off as it sent out the powerful jolts of electricity. With each one it made an ominous clicking sound to remind you that this was dangerous stuff. But it was also a fun adventure to line up, about five in a row, hold hands, and then have the person on one end touch the ground while the person on the other end touched the fence. A click later and we broke that chain with a yowl and a giggle and then we’d do it again, sometimes changing places. The people on the ends really got a jolt, while the person in the middle only had the mildest bit of electricity coursing through them. Ah, good times. Now I don’t want you to think my father was irresponsible in letting us do this. Though, now that I think about it, did he tell us how to do it in the first place? Whatever, there were many times that he would warn us that he currently had the fence on a higher power and we shouldn’t be touching it at all because it was dangerous. We heeded his word and didn’t have our fun if we’d been warned.

And I am also becoming involved in a bit of radio again and that is next on my list of To-Do’s tonight. I have been on the afternoon show of a radio station north of Dallas for the last several years. Or at least my voice is there. I have pre-recorded a lot of things and they are just plugged into the program so a voice is saying hello as people listen and go about their day. My friend Steve, the owner, wants me to do new ones each day and be current and topical. There isn’t a lot of work involved, but it is the thinking about WHAT to say that stymies from time to time. In “real” radio where you are under the gun because the clock is ticking, you have breaks that are boring or lame or you don’t say anything except the name of the song because that’s as much time as you had to prepare (or you were in the traffic office visiting with your friend Ann, which was usually the case with me). When it is prerecorded, you don’t have that luxury. If it sounds lame, you record it again. Currently, we are just trying it out to see if I want to do this every day. I’ll try to remember to keep you posted.

Flaco just let out a big sigh. He has quit purring and is sound asleep now while my legs fall asleep from being on tip toes so he doesn’t fall off my lap. He probably wants me to get my tasks done so we can adjourn to someplace more comfortable.

Now go read all of Jenni’s old blog posts and great recipes and crafty things and go listen to the artists she promotes, too. And maybe I’ll get back on the writing horse because of her.

June 23, 2012

A Lost Thimble and Texas Reporters

Filed under: At home,Family,Genealogy — Janice @ 9:45 pm

I’m cleaning off the desk, a never-ending task, and looking more closely through items my “cousin” Barbara sent me last week. I put “cousin” in quotations because she’s more of a friend than a cousin to me. I only know her through Facebook and emails. She was married to my Dad’s cousin Don, and I did know Don, but I never met Barbara. They lived overseas while he was in the military and a pilot and then after he died, she remarried and lived in Memphis, Tennessee.

I scanned an article she sent and I will put it below if you’d like to read it, but I’ll tell it with more detail, though it is a story I had never heard before.

Aunt Ruby was Barbara’s mother-in-law. She was my grandmother’s older sister. She was very sweet and lively and funny.  She kept some records of her life that I appreciate so much. She wrote out in longhand her life’s story and I am fortunate enough to have a copy of it.

In this newspaper article, it tells about Aunt Ruby when she was about 14 and the family lived in the Killeen area of Bell County. This was 1914. Her father, Houston Puckett, asked her to go into town with him to buy a birthday gift for his mother. His mother lived in Robert Lee, which is further up in West Texas. The whole family had lived up in that area for a time, but Houston Puckett liked to move around and buy a piece of undeveloped property, build a house, well, and windmill, and then sell and make a profit. So they had moved back and forth from Bell to Runnells County a couple of times.

They made this trip into town and found a pretty silver thimble at a jewelry store. They had it engraved with “M” for Mary (Mary Victoria Riggs Puckett Newman) and sent it to the grandmother.

When “Grandma Newman” died in 1928 (she’s buried in the Fairview Cemetery in Winters, Texas), Aunt Ruby was now married to Uncle Tom Spencer and living in Luther in Howard County, Texas, where most of the Pucketts ended up. She inherited the thimble. One day she was working with the Home Demonstration Club in the Gay Hill Community. The group would meet at the school and make mattresses and comforters for people in need. Somehow she lost her thimble and that was the last time she remembered using it.

Years go by and her sons, Neil and Don, both graduate from Big Spring High and have families of their own. Aunt Ruby and Uncle Tom moved to Comanche County and lived just across the road from my big family reunion grounds. But that’s a whole different side of the family so that’s another story.

Neil Spencer, Ruby’s oldest son, married Jeri and she had a son “Skipper.” I love that name. I think he goes by a more dignified name now that he is all grown up and makes dentures in his lab in Dallas, but he was Skipper to everyone most of his life and I wouldn’t be surprised if he still is to some. He is to me (though I haven’t seen him in many decades).

One day Aunt Ruby and Uncle Tom went back to visit Neil and Jeri who were now living in Luther. Aunt Ruby needed to repair something while they were there so Jeri brought out her sewing box and Aunt Ruby said, “Where did you find my thimble?”

Turns out that Skipper had been playing in the area where the old Gay Hill School had been. It was torn down by then. He found something shiny and brought it home to his mother. It was the thimble from 1914 and was not even mashed or scratched. Having been lost for about 25 years, the thimble found its rightful owner again.

I don’t know who in the family has the thimble now. Aunt Ruby died just a few years after this article was written. She died in 1983. I hope the thimble is with Skipper’s daughter now.

NEWMAN_GrandmaNewmansThimblestory

I went looking for the author of this article. I don’t know what newspaper this was in, but most likely a paper out there in West Texas. I found this video on the web of her speaking. She is quite a newspaper woman.

I have pictures of Aunt Ruby and Uncle Tom to scan. They were sweet people and Uncle Tom was everything you think of when you think of a long tall Texas oilman or maybe cowboy. He always said I was the “tall statuesque” one while my sister was the “short cute” one. We both liked our descriptions.

June 18, 2012

Time Passes

Filed under: Family,Genealogy,Website complaints — Janice @ 10:36 pm

I hate to go so long without writing because then everything I want to write about seems too big to write about right now or too trivial to write about at all. If I would write more often, the trivial would just be padding.

I am trying to do some updates on my website and it is proving as frustrating as it always has. I am not one for keeping track of passwords and I have to relearn or resubmit passwords every time I go back to a project like this. And I’m having to completely re-learn everything I have known about the website-making software and how to get the site to the Internet, too. If you go look at the main page you will see that, so far, I have not succeeded. I did get one step a little farther along tonight so I guess I should feel some satisfaction that that happened before I pulled out every hair on my head.

One of my distant cousins died over the weekend and I’m sad about that. I need to write her a nice something on my other blog. She’s related to me in 3 different ways, all going back to Comanche County, of course. Her funeral is Wednesday afternoon and if I can make it up there, I will. I know a lot of members of her immediate family because they come to the reunion too.

I’ll tell a story about Jessica…  Last summer at the reunion, her son brought some beautiful plants for the silent auction. I had bought a spider plant from him in a previous year that was lush and beautiful. Of course, it barely clings to life now that I have it, but I do still have it. Last year I got a beautiful purple Jew from him. I also got a clipping from a plant that had belonged to Jessica’s mother. Jessica told me how this plant makes a pretty house plant and it will bloom, but it is a nighttime bloomer and blooms at about 2 a.m. She said she had never seen her mother’s bloom and she had had her mother’s plant for years and never saw it bloom. Then her husband died a few years ago and a month or so after he had died she was grieving and couldn’t sleep and finally got up in the middle of the night and walked in to find that plant in beautiful bloom. She said that was just the kind of sign she needed to get some comfort and relief. I’m very glad to have a piece of that plant to remember her (and her mother) with.

June 9, 2012

Simplifying

Filed under: At home — Janice @ 3:25 pm

I don’t know that it is possible for me to simplify. The other day I was trying to clear out some space and my matchbook collection was there in a sack. Everyone has collected matches at one time or another, right? Maybe they aren’t as common now as they once were, but it was always an easy, free way to take home a souvenir. I have thought about getting rid of this collection for ages. Our house is too small to have it out on display and, really, what’s the point?

So I reach into the sack and thought, I’ll at least get a start and throw away ONE matchbook/box. And what do I pull out? The matchbox from the restaurant where Mark asked me to marry him and gave me my engagement ring almost 20 years ago. Just a few weeks ago were were in Richardson and debating the name of the place and wondering if it were even still in business.  Our engagement night was the one and only time I’ve ever eaten there.

The box says it was called La-Vitta Italian Restaurant and Club. I don’t find it on the web anymore, so we can assume it is gone. No doubt this was the place, though, I slide the box out and I wrote “Engaged! 12/7/92” inside.

The bag of matches has gone back in the closet, but I think this box will get a special home somewhere since – besides the ring – that is the only thing we have from that night.

Another day I tried to simplify… And this is the proof that I really DO need to do some of the space clearing you read so much about. I had happened upon a site that suggested you dedicate a week to eating the food in your pantry to help clear it out and circulate some of those cans out of there. I knew that was good advice. I am notorious for buying ingredients for things that never get made. I am always FULL  of ambition when I am at the store.

I cooked something like chicken for dinner and thought I would open a can of lima beans to go with it. I hadn’t had lima beans in ages and I love lima beans. There was a can in my cabinet. I saw the date on the top:  Expires 2008. Good gracious! I’m breeding salmonella here! And we all know that the dates they put on cans are years away so I probably bought this in 2006 or 2005. Maybe I moved it with us from Dallas, I don’t know. I did throw it away and found a can of green beans that had not expired. My one small step for clearing the pantry.

May 27, 2012

Collecting from Another Person’s Life

Filed under: Genealogy — Janice @ 9:32 am

I just read an article in the New York Times about a men and things he has collected about his father’s life.  It’s a lot more than that, but I will leave it there and hope you go read the beautiful article for yourself.

I understand this man. He has this need to gather things from his father’s life. I have that same need for my parents’ lives, but also for my grandparents’ and the greats and on and on — even to uncles and aunts and cousins, at times.

This week I found myself looking at Sanborn maps of Wichita, Kansas, and old postcards of the Manhattan Hotel there. I was recreating the environment of 1897 when an uncle, many generations back, went there from Abilene, Texas, to bring a prisoner back to be tried in Taylor County. While he was there he shot and killed a man and was charged with murder. I wanted to see where the train station was in relation to the hotel, what stores were around the hotel. How far did he have to walk from the hotel to the jail. And then where was the courthouse where his case was tried later that year? I am truly yearning for time travel, but until that day, I am busy collecting the bits and pieces of someone else’s life.

May 12, 2012

What We Have Here is a Failure to Communicate

Filed under: Normal Life — Janice @ 10:35 pm

My husband and I have great conversations with lots of laughs …at times.

One of the many indicators that I had to marry this man and spend the rest of my life with him was when we first met and, at some point, I said, “Oh, I forgot what I was going to say,” and he replied immediately, “Oh yes, I’m radioactive.” It is an old Steve Martin joke, but the fact that it came to him that quickly made me laugh because it was something that I often said.

So I have become accustomed to having those conversations that don’t require any explanation. I’m sure other couples that have been together 20 years have no trouble understanding (or couples that have been together a month and had that same sort of immediate bond). We can watch TV together and he’ll say, “Oh, that’s that woman that was…” and I will say, “No, this is the other one.” And we’ll both know exactly what we’re talking about.

Until tonight.

Sigh.

Maybe he was just too weary to understand me this time.

Mark was at his computer in his office, which is adjoining the living room. I sat down in “his” chair because from that chair I have a view of him and it is easier to carry on a conversation.

Side note: I suppose it only makes sense that Mark has “his” chair and I don’t have a chair that is clearly “mine.” I grew up in a household where there was a “Daddy’s chair,” but no “Mama’s chair.” This wasn’t Goldilocks, but there was definitely a chair that we could sit in ANYtime we wanted…until Daddy came into the room and expected to sit down.

I turn on the news (I heart Brian Williams), Mark stands up and walks toward me, stands three feet from his chair. and  says, “Trade places with me.”

I stand up and move to stand three feet from the chair, he sits down, and I say, “Okay, now what?”

“Now what what?”

“I traded places with you, now what?” I say with that “haha aren’t I clever?” tone in my voice.

“What are you talking about?” None of that “haha aren’t you clever” tone in his voice.

“You told me to trade places so I did!” Now with that desperate, “Oh please, tell me you get it” tone in my voice.

“I just wanted my chair.”

“I KNOW you wanted your chair, but you SAID, ‘Trade places with me.” So I did…” Desperation is so unattractive.

“I just wanted my chair.”

I sat and we watched Brian and soon he was dozing with a kitty on his chest.

May 11, 2012

Two Stories

Filed under: Family — Janice @ 10:19 pm

I posted this picture this afternoon on my Facebook account:

chickenandkid

It’s funny how a picture can so quickly remind me of so many different things. First, the era of the picture (and its oddity) remind me of a picture a cousin of mine used to have from her family. Somewhere I have a printed copy of the photo she made for me because that was back in the days where we didn’t have digital pictures and didn’t share them (I’m glad those days are gone). It was a picture of a distinguished older African-American man sitting in a chair. Black and white and from nearly the same era (it appeared) as this picture. Also in the picture were two toddler blonde-headed Caucasian children, each standing by his knees and comfortably leaning on him. There was also at least one long-eared hound dog at his feet or nearby.  It was truly a one-of-a-kind picture and she said that it was from somewhere in her family and the man was a servant or a slave or a caretaker who was very much a part of the family and an important figure to those two little boys. Like this picture, it makes you just wonder what prompted the picture to be taken. That one (the man and the boys) is very sweet. This one is just odd!

The second story that comes to mind is a family story from my family history. I would have to go look it up to remember who it was exactly, but I’m pretty sure it was an uncle or a cousin of mine from the Couch family because my cousin Paula has it written in the information that she has shared with me. In that story, set in the days before there were cars, a couple of the boys in the family were taking the wagon into town from their farm in Comanche County to get something that was needed at the store. Their little brother begged to be allowed to come along with the big boys and was permitted. It was no short trip, but it was made worse when, on the way home, a blue norther blew in and about froze the boys. So they stopped at a house along the way to seek shelter for a while. To warm the boys up, the woman of the house made a pot of coffee and gave a cup to each of the older boys. The little 5-year-old boy followed her back to the kitchen and said, “Please, ma’am, can I have some coffee, too?” She said, “Why, you shouldn’t be drinking coffee, it’s not good for you,” and he replied, “I know ma’am, but I’m 5 now and it’s awful hard to give up.”

The second story is a story of my sweet husband Mark. When Mark and his brother Dave were little boys, they lived in Richardson, Texas. Their grandparents lived in Abilene, Texas. It was not unusual for them to get to fly ALONE to see their grandparents or for the return trip. They had spent extra time after a holiday with the grandparents and, when they had to go back home, their grandparents dropped them off at the airport (ha, I’m kidding, I don’t they did THAT back then)… they took them to the airport. At some point, a woman saw the 2 boys and said, “Aren’t you awfully young to be flying by yourself?” and Mark replied (with some degree of impatience or disgust), “No, I’m 6 and he’s 5!”  As if that was all she needed to know.

May 10, 2012

Meet Flaco

Filed under: At home,Cats — Janice @ 10:02 pm

I can’t let this week end without telling the story of our newest family member, Flaco (though we discussed the Bones might be a better name for him right now). This is my new baby:

flacomay2012

This doesn’t show how teeny tiny he is. Right now he just the right size to pick up and have his torso fit in the hand easily.

Mark has been complaining that the cats love me and don’t love him. His cat, Nathan Jr., was always climbing up in his chair to sit beside him or curl up and nap with him on his chair. Since sweet Nathan has been gone, Mark has not received quite the same measure of affection. With Willie, it is easy to see why he bonded with me. He was about 3 weeks old when Mark left on a one month tour. So while Mark was off working and playing gigs, Willie and I bonded a lot. We bonded a lot because I gave away his mother and brothers and sister before Mark came home. And then sweet Phil was in foster care with a single woman a long time before we got him, so he was always more comfortable with me. So Mark has been saying he wanted a new cat. But it was just talk, we didn’t need a cat.

And then Monday, my friend Miss Trish, our catsitter and an employee of Austin Pets Alive!, the good folks who rescued Phil and raised him as a bottle baby until he was well enough to go out in the world, posted a picture of a kitten they had at their little storefront. He was just the cutest thing. I admired him on Facebook and Trish posted another sweet picture for me. I asked for a picture of his tail (since I’m partial to long-tailed cats) and she told me that his tail was normal length, but had a kink in it. Our cat Willie has an interesting kink in his tail too, to I like that. She suggested I come see this sweet kitten that they called Ian (they are named alphabetically, just like the hurricanes).

I went over to Austin Pets Alive! after work and took them some cat litter while I was at it. It didn’t take long before I was in love with little Ian. He was in a “room” with a couple of grown cats and he had no fear of them and marched around like he owned the place. So before I knew what was happening, I was filling out paperwork and passing their inspection and getting ready to bring little Ian home with me.

I got home just before Mark left for his Monday night gig, but he thoroughly approved of my choice. He knew I got a prime A #1 kitten!

Willie and Phil are not so sure. There was some growling and hissing on the first day, primarily from Phil, and primarily directed at us, not at the kitten. Things have calmed down considerably and the boys have all played together a little bit. Phil is not sleeping up by my neck like he has always done, but I hope he will get back in his old habits, soon. This kitten isn’t a substitution, he’s just an addition.

Come see him before he grows up!

May 7, 2012

Normal People and Normal Lives

Filed under: At home,Childhood Memories,Normal Life,Writing — Janice @ 7:45 am

I keep looking around the Internet for blogs about "normal" people and their normal lives, but I’m not having a lot of luck finding them. There was a time when blogs/online journals were all about individuals and their random daily thoughts. That is how I met two good friends in Austin — I used to read their daily diaries when I lived in Dallas. I haven’t determined how to even search for that kind of blog anymore, so if you have a suggestion, please speak up.

This came up when we were on our wonderful New Mexico vacation. I drove by cute little adobe houses in the mountains with smoke curling from their chimney and a sweet little garden plowed and ready to plant by the side of the house and I wondered what their daily life was like there? What did they do for a living? Was their life as peaceful and cozy as it appears or is it hectic and crazed and anxiety-filled like mine?

This isn’t the first time I have had these thoughts. When I was a little girl, Daddy and I had a "thing" when we traveled. He and I liked old houses, where my Mom and sister were more into fancy and new. We would drive past an old broken down, unpainted farmhouse and Daddy would say, "There’s a house for us, Janice, how about that one?" I would agree that it was perfect for us and I would picture what life would be like in that broken down house out in the middle of nowhere.

And I don’t just do it for old houses, either. Mark and I were in Houston for New Year’s and we drove through the River Oaks section of town with their fabulous Christmas lights and decorations and enormous houses, guest houses, 8-car garages, etc., and I wondered about THEIR daily life. Did they really have time to enjoy their beautiful home or were they always traveling for work, staying late at the office?

So, what I’m thinking is that average daily life is interesting to people and I am going to write entries from time to time that are probably a little boring to some, but might be fascinating to someone that wonders what in the world a woman with no children does all day. Or a woman that has one of the coolest jobs in the world does while she sits in her cubicle for 8 hours. And what it is like to be married to a drummer. ETC.

But that entry apparently won’t be this morning. But when I do write it, it will probably start with how I always spend too much time on the computer in the morning and then I get showered and dressed for work in 5 minutes. Then my friends will begin to understand why I look like I do.

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