Catching Up...

My meandering path has been strewn with distractions since the holidays.

My time whittled away with... life.

Let's catch up.  

We had an adoption in the family. An Australian Shepherd Christmas Eve Puppy.
Don't be deceived by this innocent looking picture... she is trouble and a half...
but we wouldn't trade our Shelby girl.

Cows have been fed, calves have been born, fences have been mended.

Husband and I ran away to Seattle... just for a week, and had a blast!

Traditions have been carried forward alongside cattle auction veterans... and a few newbies who were fascinated (as most city folk, including myself the first time) with the selling of the vials of semen.  Yes.  That's how they do it in the cow world. They're not shy about it either.

I was privileged to capture a small role in an epic love story.

(I got to make the cake and could not have accomplished the feat

 ~ a week before Christmas in Houston ~

without the help of farmer husband).

Thanks hon for being willing... being my chauffeur... being on "cake" assembly duty ...

and even having fun in the process!

Here are the lovely bride and handsome groom, Lindsey and Juan. 

It was a wedding filled to the brim with faith, hope and (of course) love.

Mom and I stealing a moment... despite Houston Dad giving us all a scare by passing out TWICE after the I Do's.  We were left with stories to tell (as usual).

Seasons are changing in our lives... and in the lives of those we love. 

Our farm matriarch is diminishing... and it is normal and expected, but grieves us all nonetheless.  Most especially her... after spending a life of filling her cup...

now her palms must open to let things go. 

I so hope that she finds pools of solace... and joy in the midst of this hard change. 

I hope it for husband as well... and for his sis and brother. 

 Boys are busy growing up... and stretching us all... and learning... and occasionally calling a truce.

Soil has been turned... fragrant and black.

Corn and maize seeds have been tucked in, all snug in their rows...

and are, this moment awakening from their dreams.

Nudged by the alarm clock of moisture and warmth... and Texas black land prairie.

We find ourselves on the precipice of Spring.

I've been pining for flip flop days... and alas... they are now upon us!

Enjoy the View

I'm enjoying my view this Thanksgiving Eve...

Do me a favor...

Take a moment to savor yours!

Cousins' Party

My Mom-In-Law has a spectacular tradition.  Each year, her cousins get together for a Cousins' Party! Brilliant!

I wish I had thought of it... but since I didn't, I unabashedly stole her tradition and made it my own as part of my 40th-Year-Progressive-Birthday-Celebration.

 

Blessed am I to have 3 cousins on my mother's side of the family. When you throw my 2 sisters into the mix, that makes a half-dozen cousins (all girls)!

 

 

Do you know what a Progressive Dinner is? Well that has kind of been the general idea for the big 4-zero birthday. I decided before the year even started that I didn't JUST want to have a big shin-dig (although I kind of did that too... How often do you meet someone who matters, who is also only ONE day older than you? I mean we sort of HAD to have a shin-dig... right??!) Sorry for the digression. 

 

 Anyone who has thrown a big wedding/party/event knows that you don't ever get to really visit with all your guests very much. So I thought it would be fun to have a series of smaller, more intimate celebrations. So that's what I have done. Yes... I realize I have sort of beat my birthday into the ground this year... but 40 is a big deal people!

(I'm pretty sure husband is OVER it). 

So when my first-1st cousin asked if she could throw me a party... she got rooked into two parties (sorry hon).  One of which we celebrated last weekend... a Cousins Sleepover!

 

So the sisters came up from Houston and we did all the things you're supposed to do at a slumber party! 

 

Played Girl Talk!

 

 Ate Pizza (just like back in the day)!

  

Watched a chick-flick until the wee morning hours with a bowl of caramel popcorn on our laps!  Made creepy monster cocktails!

 

Modeled our cute mis-matched socks...

 

We had conversations with furniture and talked about boys we like!

 

We laughed!  And laughed some more!

 

We woke up to a Cousins elegant tea party complete with quiche... fresh fruit... tomatoes and basil... hot tea and coffee.  DIVINE!

 

The best part about spending time with people who share your blood is that you just "know" things about each other... you don't have to do a lot of explaining. You totally "get" each other's stories, especially about your crazy shared relatives - (if you happen to be a crazy relative... were your ears burning?)  You don't have to apologize for being loud... and dramatic... and over the top. You can start a story mid-stream because your hearers know the beginning.  You know each other's roots... the healthy ones, as well as the ones that need more water and fertilizer... and you tend to one another.

 

There's something comfortable and cozy about filling up a room with all those common traits... and then swimming in the words and nuances and quirks.

 

So thank you to Bo and Lo (and Aunt Beck) for your hospitality and for putting into motion what I hope will be an annual event.  We're already discussing next year's party in Houston and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that my other sweet pumpkinhead cousin Bree can make it in 2013. Thank you sisters for making the trek North! 

 

Although we are cut from the same cloth... we are varied and diverse.   We are corduroy and satin... damask and denim.. silk and lace and flannel.  I'm so thankful for the stitching of faith and family that holds us together...

 

Cousins are an often unmentioned, unappreciated, forgotten branch of the family tree... but I am here to say... COUSINS ROCK!

 

My Lamp has a Waist!

So what's a girl to do with a beautiful vintage accessory that fits the waist of a 20-year-old??

Say no to homemade peach ice cream? I don't think so!

Find a different way to show it off of course!

My Mom wore this belt back before I was a twinkle in her eye and thought I might like it.

As a matter of fact I do!

The thought of stuffing it into a closet seemed sinful.

So I began to look around the house for a creative way to display it...

Turns out my Nanny's old lamp has a perfectly sized waist! Who knew!?!

My lamp said she just felt like something was missing her whole life...

now she feels... complete! 

If only all of life's dilemma's were solved with a beautiful accessory!

The Games We Play

We are so blessed to live just down the street (literally) from so much of Husband's family!

This translates into lots of "get-togethers". 

(Get-together is just country for "party")

Our house is small, but that doesn't mean we limit our guest list!

People... conversation...  and activities spill into every room...

and then if we run out of rooms (or if it's a pretty day),
we just throw up a table in the yard.

If you come to one of our soirees you're likely going to get roped (not literally) into playing either

Chicken Foot... or Washers.

We love both games because men, women, children and livestock of all ages can compete!

(I was just kidding of course about livestock participation. This is strictly a human activity... even though it is named after a barnyard friend... I'll explain that momentarily.)

Chicken Foot

Chicken Foot is a domino game, played with double 9 dominoes. 

Yep... that means 9 dots on each end. 

When there's a REALLY big group we pull out the double 12's.

(You sometimes need a calculator to count the final score.)

The game is so named because when you play a "double" it must be "covered" with 3 matching dominoes... creating a sort of "chicken foot"... see the toes?

The reason niece has a pouty face is because she's holding the "double blank"... that baby is worth a whopping 50 points (and the goal of the game is to have the LEAST points).

With all those dots she's clearly going in the wrong direction.

When it gets too dark... or the mosquitoes begin snacking on us,

we just move the chicken feet to an inside table!

Trust me... you'll love it. Go buy some double 12's!

Washers

We discovered washers just last summer but apparently the game has been around... well... forever... and even though we're newbies, we're pretty much hooked. 

Since the discovery, the men in the family have built numerous and sundry variations of the board. 

This game is quite simple.

Each player gets 3 colored washers.

(Yes, actual washers from a hardware store, spray painted different colors in groups of 3)

The matching boards (with 3 holes cut into each) are placed 10 feet apart.

Players then toss their washers toward one board, while touching the other board with a foot.

There are different stances for "the toss"

Some rest one foot on the board (see Husband above)

Some stand completely on the board (see Little Brother)

Whatever your stance...

a washer in the top hole is worth 3 points,

one in the middle hole scores you 2 points,

and a sinker in bottom hole gives you 1 point

The first one to 21 wins!

There are apparently MANY "official" rules for this game, (do a google search)

but the way we figure it... as long as all the players agree, there's no RIGHT way.

Our family has put our own twist on things (shocking).

There are some special "tricks" to which we've assigned special names as follows:

GRANDPA

Three 3's in one toss!

(This is a grandpa because Grandpa Work was the first one to accomplish it)

FARMER's WIFE

Three 2's

(So named because yours truly was the first to hit this combination.)

PINE TREE

Three 1's

CIRCLING THE WAGONS

This is when you leave 3 washers on the board. Booo.

FLAT TIRE

Two 3's and a 2

(You were sooo close to a GRANDPA but flattened out on that last toss)

SNOW MAN

a 1, then a 2, then a 3

(We keep adding to the list of course)

You are welcome to adopt our lingo... or make up your own...

But whatever you do... talk a lot of smack... work on your technique...

practice, practice, practice...

and do some serious rejoicing when you win. 

My group certainly does!

Where can you get a Washer board?  We've found them at local flea-market-type-spots. 

(If you live in Dallas they have them at Trader's Village.) 

If you're the handy man (or woman) type you can find instructions on how to build your own on the internet.  (Is there anything you CAN'T find on the web?)

WARNING: This activity is addictive.  Do not be alarmed or surprised if your enthusiasm is contagious and you end up with more than one "set of boards" and/or corrupt your friends and family with Washer Fever. =)

My Garden... the Time Machine

Any number of things can "take you back"... to a different time and place.

A song... a scent... a voice.

This past week... my garden caused the wrinkle in time. 

okra... yellow crook-neck squash... zucchini... tomatoes... black-eyed peas

I watched my "Nanny" (Colorado Dad's Mom) pull these same plump treasures from the ground, just a few miles South of where my little house sits. 

Followed behind as her apron pockets filled up and spilled over. 

I helped her hull black-eyed peas... our fingers forcing out the fresh green kernels.

Hers weathered and wise... mine small and nimble.

The thing that carried me away today were the sounds...

As I sat on my own porch hulling peas, I closed my eyes and listened.

I let my ears travel... tilted my head toward a different porch...  a different garden.

A two-story structure on Lee Street in Red Oak, Texas that my Nandaddy built.

Faintly at first... but the frequency quickly grew stronger.

...the aluminum screen door on the front porch ~ tension spring set just a little too tight ~ quickly popping closed with a hollow rattle... the drone of the window unit ~ the drip drip drip of condensation outside on the black soil... the scrape of the sliding glass door... the slowing down of a vehicle ~ tires changing surfaces from asphalt to gravel... the cuckoo clock ticking away seconds above the kitchen table... the internal whir right before the tiny door would click open and little bird would sing out... the startling ring of the baby blue rotary phone... the sound of The Price is Right on the television... her laughter... Nandaddy's voice from another room...
water running in the kitchen sink...

Do you have a place you'd like to visit again?  Close your eyes...
Listen.  Find the symphony where you thought there was only silence.

As sit on my front porch... pinching peas into one bowl... hulls and strings in another... I don't need my eyes to do this chore... my fingers work by touch alone...

I help Oldest Son study for his 7th-grade Texas History final...

I listen intently to this moment... the cadence of questions and answers... repetition of troublesome facts... wind blowing...

I hope he will remember the sounds of this day...

studying at a picnic table stacked with yellow and green...

dirt still clinging...

little brother popping in and out of doorway distracting...

the zipping by of an occasional hummingbird... his mother's voice asking and answering... wheat ready for harvest whispering sweet nothings in our ears.

It's Snowing!

Every year...

in April... sometimes May

it snows.

It isn't North Wind... or Jack Frost who brings the white...

It isn't chilly... or cold... or even wet.

But it is this great lady which blankets my lawn with her downy offspring. 

The Texas Cottonwood.

Husband gets grumpy.

Everyone starts sneezing.

It gums up the mower.

But I always smile when I see her first fluffy refugee flying across my yard.

She is majestic... and lovely.

At times it looks as if a giant pillow fight has taken place on the grass...

bits of her pollen filling in the low places...

rolling down the roof in tiny soundless avalanches of poof.

If you look closely here... you can see them flying... little white specks... orbs... dancing free.

Littering the lawn...

Tiny puffs poised in the sunlight...

Ready to take flight with the slightest motion.

I have a co-conspirator!
A compatriot who joys in her messy shedding... delights in the simplicity of it... her pirouettes of whimsy... flecking the air with melodies of movement. 
Her daughters harmonize with the laughter of my boy. 

I don't care what anyone says... I love that tree.

And now I am not the only one.

I have swayed a Cottonwood Rebel to my side!

The "Dirt" on Husband

Husband has dirt in his blood.  He said he never would when we were dating.  He said he'd never be a farmer (although the "good story" he wrote when he was 8 hinted otherwise).
It hangs on our wall now... as it did on his grandparent's wall for many years. 
 

He "gets it honest"...
His daddy, grandfather, great-grandfather, and great-great-grandfather all turned soil. 

Farming is a tough occupation. It's unpredictable.  Physically demanding. Financially risky. The weather is finicky.  Machinery breaks down.  The hours are long.  Injury is lurking...
And yet... it fills husband's cup. 

He comes home each night dirty and greasy... lovely and spent.  The cologne of soil... and grease... and earth cling to him... and I savor it.  His days are wrapped in sunshine... rain... mud... weather forecasts... planning and shifting plans... livestock that depend on him... sowing seeds... and harvesting their offspring... divided and multiplied.   

These are the "girls" I share him with...

Activities as old as time... souped up with a little John Deere Green horsepower and modern day technology. 

Tools lined up... everything in it's place.

(This would explain why my purse makes him nauseous!)

The cycling of the seasons has deeper meaning for us than for most...
a "chance of thunderstorms" hold weight much greater than whether my picnic will be spoiled or not.

In admiration I watch those perfectly straight rows of emerald sprouts look out upon this world and I am overwhelmed by the beauty of it... the field itself...
and the way it nourishes husband. 

Winter wheat morphs the field into a giant Chia pet!

The black ground is watered with his sweat... and sometimes blood and tears. 
Roots grow deep into this ancestral land.

Alongside the wheat and corn... grow faith and trust and patience and hope. 
God whispers in the wind... and shouts from the treetops.

All that dirty blood running through his veins... and light... and air. 
Cleansing and right.
He is more... and so am I.

I'm so glad he changed his mind about this farming thing.

Tricky in the Kitchen: Take 1

~ Elevate the Humble Cake Mix ~

1) Mayo in the Mix: Add 1 heaping tablespoon of full-fat Mayo. 
I know it sounds weird... but mayo is really just "emulsified oil". 
Think of it as a rocket booster to the oil or butter already in the recipe. 

2) Vanilla makes everything better!
Add 1 teaspoon vanilla extract to the mix. 
When aded to almost any cake mix vanilla adds a little "extra"...
whether white, yellow, strawberry or chocolate...
vanilla can add another layer to the flavor. 

3) Beat the Buzzer! Do NOT overcook the cake! 
A cake will continue to cook for a few minutes once it is removed from the oven... so take it out just a minute or two before it is really "done" so that not one drop of extra moisture is lost.

One bite... and you'll thank me!!