At 62.5 years of age, many things which have impacted my life have finally come 'full circle' in my thoughts! Life is a dance and some of us perform as well as possible...others, burn the floor with their moves, twirls and coordination. My life has moved in circles, some overlapping, others distancing from the core. Although I've had many experiences, all in all, I fell short of the mark.
Growing up in Central Texas with the wind at my back allowed me to laugh, run, play and discover. I grew up a 'giver', unconditional love, aide to those in need, visits at the rest home with my dad's brother and sharing my time with different family members overtaken with illness or hospitalized. I've always been told I'm to 'giving' and my heart too open. Finally, it resonates in my mind. I've got it.
The last year proved to be one of the scariest, most challenging and difficult times I have ever faced. After two years of recession, the wave swept across the educational world, limiting the number of interns I would have for the school year, 2010-2011. Rather than a load of 26+ I was fortunate to have a total of 18 for the fall semester. Following life changes, divorce, new beginnings and free fall with my retirement 'job' of Field Supervisor...the sky above me boiled and loomed like an angry serpent.
Lap Band in March, '09 had given new life to this 'ol gal, very grateful for the good health and renewed energy to maneuver day to day. However, with the financial realm crumbling, for the first time ever, I experienced the 'fight' or 'flight' syndrome. For a week, I wanted to turn and run. That meant lose the house, rid myself of many of those things I had spent a lifetime collecting and becoming one more individual who could not make it.
After anguishing thought, planning within the eye of a needle and forecasting the possibilities, I decided to confront my situation.I am glad to say...I WIN! Back on my feet, able to live day to day and enjoy the small pleasures that come my way.
However, as I drove up into the country today, I pondered steadfast on the life lessons I have learned. One of those is....I've always talked too much and shared too much information. That's changed these days. It dawned on me although I might hear from friends or family, it's how are you? What have you been up to? We love you stay in touch. Thus, I've learned to lay low, live my day to day life and understand no one's really interested in the menial things I do daily.
The next thing I learned...lots of folks LOVE, LOVE, LOVE ME. But, when it came to the brink of financial decay....they hoped, hoped, hoped I survived. That was nice--but, an eye opener ...everyone is on their own when it comes to money. Someone did step in with a check for a hundred dollars three different months. That was a life saver. But for their goodness and sharing, I would not be the winner in the entire ordeal. Yes, I'm very grateful for that.
I truly admire all individuals that have soared in life, career, finances and more. I celebrate their intelligence, planning and outlook. My primary lesson learned at this late stage of life....those who have money, worked hard for it and they will keep it for the future. Understood. And, if someone's limping in today's world, they become a slight 'threat' to humanity. Thus, this 'ol girl has stood taller and walked with more of a determination.
Life is lived fast and furious. Sometimes, the gold lining passes on by and sometimes we get a glimpse of small shred of that lining. But, it's every man/woman for himself/herself. Bottom line for me...all of my circles are hooked together finally and I dangle from the bottom of the heap awaiting the next onslaught of experiences.
Someone asked who they should call for me in case of an emergency. I smiled, blinked and replied, "no one really. We're all on our own these days." As a single woman, aging (lol) daily, with a few 'hitches' in her git-a-long...I am woman hear me roar. I've given lots to people all of my life...time to give to me. With that in mind, this is my last post. Not really sure that too many folks were really 'rolling' with it anyhow.
I haven't lost my laughter. I'm just more careful where it rolls. There are a couple of special people in my life...and, I love family and friends. I'm just more leary of expecting anything from anyone.Game, match, set. The FAT LADY has sung!
Life is a journey. I just think it's nicer with others 'in it'. Just sayin'.
About Me
- txspatter
- Humble, Texas, United States
- Retired educator, retired freelance photographer, retired life. I loved the classroom, laughter of the students, small successes that made them glow and the feeling of 'family' among faculty. However, job done and on to new things. Life was on 'cruise control' until March, 2004...and then, there was a halting screech, lung and heart issues and physicians galore. But, I beat the odds and HERE I AM...STILL HUFFIN' AND PUFFIN'!!! Let's see where this leads.....
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Monday, November 29, 2010
Hard Lessons
Life has many twists and turns, ups and downs and sometimes, the most challenging 'roller coaster' ride you could ever experience. Through those times, my heart has felt, my eyes have observed, my ears have listened and my realization has struck home. In this world, there is no one willing to aide, assist, care for or rescue any struggling individual very often in life.
Much of my life, I have given love, offered financial support, rescued some when they were sinking and taken college kids to the grocery store to put food in their kitchens. Due to my childhood and the many experiences throughout the years, I became a very caring woman. Many times I offered kindness and love to Aunts and Uncles...helping with health care issues or escape from threatening situations.
Those things came from the heart...for, there is no other place from which it boasts. There are no regrets over any of the things I have done in the past, the love I've shared, the care I've shown; however, as I've grown older (and wiser) it has become so very clear that, regardless of the good deeds from days gone by, everyone in this world is in this world for SELF.
The past year has been excessively challenging and, at times, cruel for me. I've gone through experiences I never thought or imagined would cross my life. Following divorce, failing in the financial department and having the threat of possibly being without a comfortable intern assignment....my future appeared bleak last August.
I panicked, as do many people. My first instinct was FLIGHT. Instantly, I was going to walk away from my home and search for a different way to 'make it.' No, I've never missed a house or car payment in my entire life nor have I ever made those payments late. My parents instilled strong character traits within my soul and they have guided me throughout life.
When I realized the challenge that confronted me, I reached out...call it desperation...call it frantic reaction....call it fear of living 62 years and becoming an instant failure statistic.
After all, having a 'giving' heart all of my life and having done many things for many people, I suppose I expected someone to ride in on a big, white, shining stallion and issue the call..."I'm here to save you ... I will help you move beyond this chasm!" Ha! Who was I kidding?
My inner self wanted to believe, that as a single woman who had (I thought) been an important piece of a great family 'line'...someone would toss me a line, even if it was short and temporary. Funny, how we see life from our inner perspective. Suddenly, I realized as I heard relatives say, "Oh, Pat, I'm so sorry...I can't believe this is happening to you..." followed with their deafening silence which transmitted, 'but you're on your own. I hope it gets better, and we love you so much, but, keep swimming and working to get out of this hole."
During the past months, I have come to the stark realization that (especially as a single person with no children)...you only have two feet to carry you and if/when you stumble, crawl, if you must, but everyone will be watching and cheering. Nah, they're not coming to offer help, they just want to LOVE YOU. Words are cheap in life. Actions share the true meaning of those we know and care for.
My past months have reminded me of my years in high school. I had a car. The others didn't. My car was full every time it left the parking lot. Hey, stylin'...besties...NOT. After graduation, I began to hear of weddings of those I thought were my friends. Not only was I not invited to participate in those weddings, I was not even invited to those weddings. That, was a very rude awakening.
One day, at the mailbox, I hesitated as I read the return address on an envelope. When I opened the envelope, I found a hundred dollar check ... over the next two months, I received two more of those miraculous gifts. Just enough to keep me going until my next retirement check 'hit' the account. To me, that was a tremendous gift and vote of confidence in my ability to survive.
For others...I guess I became a new 'threat' on the horizon. Single, divorced, struggling, why did she even tell us...and more. I've fought my battle, and, for some reason, won one more time. Remembering the 'fire' in my mother and the things she dealt with after the death of daddy, she was a survivor...I could be as well.
As one final brick was shot at head level (home owners insurance), a very dear, best friend saved my life. She was my 'safety net'...the only one I've been privy to in my entire life. And, I understood what a really best friend was/is. Yes, I had gone and sat in the waiting room months ago as she underwent breast cancer surgery. I've done that for family all the years of my life. That's just been me.
Dealing with issues beyond divorce, disappointment, lap band issues, financial crisis and all...once again, this 'ol Texas girl has been tested to the core. My stark realization in today's world is very simple -- you are completely on your own. I can't help but wonder why. Perhaps that's why I've never been blessed with excessive money. My heart would allow me to 'rescue' those in need. But, then, I reflect on those who do have money and are well set in life...that's why they have money! They earned it, they protect it, they keep it...but, hey, they will always say 'We love you..hang in there'! Wow, better than nothing, but sure leaves an imprint on one's mind and soul.
As of tomorrow, I stand on my two feet again. As for the future, I know there is no one in life who is willing to bend, stretch or offer that saving hand from the quicksand. Life lessons are difficult at best, damaging in some ways but with each new 'notch' in my 'life belt' I understand I'd best be sharp, practical and cautious. Has it changed me somewhat? Yes, it has. Has it caused me to step a distance back from the front edge of everything? Yes, it has. Has it been a painful, private journey...definitely.
I am grateful for those who shared three hundred dollars in the 'hard time of the Fall of '10'. I'm thankful for one best friend who considered me 'worth the risk' in giving me the means to maintain my home. It's been a learning curve steeped in vewy scawy thangs! For now, though, I've made it one more time!
No one can change the minds of others, but perhaps we can share thoughts that will somehow broaden understanding and compassion. I hope that everyone makes it in this trying 'time' of recession/depression/whatever...and, I hope that I would still be willing to help another if the call came to me. However, I can't guarantee that today.
Honestly, if I could go back and start anew...I would become a lawyer! Ask those who know me...my mind is at work continuously, I'm always full of curiosity and I would have made a mark in the world as a lawyer. Also, I would have had a 'real income' rather than struggling as an educator!
Bottom line, make money, keep it selfishly and smile as you 'close the door.' Who was it that said, 'leave 'em laughin'...
It's been interesting. It's been lonely. It's been successful for me...that's all that counts!
Much of my life, I have given love, offered financial support, rescued some when they were sinking and taken college kids to the grocery store to put food in their kitchens. Due to my childhood and the many experiences throughout the years, I became a very caring woman. Many times I offered kindness and love to Aunts and Uncles...helping with health care issues or escape from threatening situations.
Those things came from the heart...for, there is no other place from which it boasts. There are no regrets over any of the things I have done in the past, the love I've shared, the care I've shown; however, as I've grown older (and wiser) it has become so very clear that, regardless of the good deeds from days gone by, everyone in this world is in this world for SELF.
The past year has been excessively challenging and, at times, cruel for me. I've gone through experiences I never thought or imagined would cross my life. Following divorce, failing in the financial department and having the threat of possibly being without a comfortable intern assignment....my future appeared bleak last August.
I panicked, as do many people. My first instinct was FLIGHT. Instantly, I was going to walk away from my home and search for a different way to 'make it.' No, I've never missed a house or car payment in my entire life nor have I ever made those payments late. My parents instilled strong character traits within my soul and they have guided me throughout life.
When I realized the challenge that confronted me, I reached out...call it desperation...call it frantic reaction....call it fear of living 62 years and becoming an instant failure statistic.
After all, having a 'giving' heart all of my life and having done many things for many people, I suppose I expected someone to ride in on a big, white, shining stallion and issue the call..."I'm here to save you ... I will help you move beyond this chasm!" Ha! Who was I kidding?
My inner self wanted to believe, that as a single woman who had (I thought) been an important piece of a great family 'line'...someone would toss me a line, even if it was short and temporary. Funny, how we see life from our inner perspective. Suddenly, I realized as I heard relatives say, "Oh, Pat, I'm so sorry...I can't believe this is happening to you..." followed with their deafening silence which transmitted, 'but you're on your own. I hope it gets better, and we love you so much, but, keep swimming and working to get out of this hole."
During the past months, I have come to the stark realization that (especially as a single person with no children)...you only have two feet to carry you and if/when you stumble, crawl, if you must, but everyone will be watching and cheering. Nah, they're not coming to offer help, they just want to LOVE YOU. Words are cheap in life. Actions share the true meaning of those we know and care for.
My past months have reminded me of my years in high school. I had a car. The others didn't. My car was full every time it left the parking lot. Hey, stylin'...besties...NOT. After graduation, I began to hear of weddings of those I thought were my friends. Not only was I not invited to participate in those weddings, I was not even invited to those weddings. That, was a very rude awakening.
One day, at the mailbox, I hesitated as I read the return address on an envelope. When I opened the envelope, I found a hundred dollar check ... over the next two months, I received two more of those miraculous gifts. Just enough to keep me going until my next retirement check 'hit' the account. To me, that was a tremendous gift and vote of confidence in my ability to survive.
For others...I guess I became a new 'threat' on the horizon. Single, divorced, struggling, why did she even tell us...and more. I've fought my battle, and, for some reason, won one more time. Remembering the 'fire' in my mother and the things she dealt with after the death of daddy, she was a survivor...I could be as well.
As one final brick was shot at head level (home owners insurance), a very dear, best friend saved my life. She was my 'safety net'...the only one I've been privy to in my entire life. And, I understood what a really best friend was/is. Yes, I had gone and sat in the waiting room months ago as she underwent breast cancer surgery. I've done that for family all the years of my life. That's just been me.
Dealing with issues beyond divorce, disappointment, lap band issues, financial crisis and all...once again, this 'ol Texas girl has been tested to the core. My stark realization in today's world is very simple -- you are completely on your own. I can't help but wonder why. Perhaps that's why I've never been blessed with excessive money. My heart would allow me to 'rescue' those in need. But, then, I reflect on those who do have money and are well set in life...that's why they have money! They earned it, they protect it, they keep it...but, hey, they will always say 'We love you..hang in there'! Wow, better than nothing, but sure leaves an imprint on one's mind and soul.
As of tomorrow, I stand on my two feet again. As for the future, I know there is no one in life who is willing to bend, stretch or offer that saving hand from the quicksand. Life lessons are difficult at best, damaging in some ways but with each new 'notch' in my 'life belt' I understand I'd best be sharp, practical and cautious. Has it changed me somewhat? Yes, it has. Has it caused me to step a distance back from the front edge of everything? Yes, it has. Has it been a painful, private journey...definitely.
I am grateful for those who shared three hundred dollars in the 'hard time of the Fall of '10'. I'm thankful for one best friend who considered me 'worth the risk' in giving me the means to maintain my home. It's been a learning curve steeped in vewy scawy thangs! For now, though, I've made it one more time!
No one can change the minds of others, but perhaps we can share thoughts that will somehow broaden understanding and compassion. I hope that everyone makes it in this trying 'time' of recession/depression/whatever...and, I hope that I would still be willing to help another if the call came to me. However, I can't guarantee that today.
Honestly, if I could go back and start anew...I would become a lawyer! Ask those who know me...my mind is at work continuously, I'm always full of curiosity and I would have made a mark in the world as a lawyer. Also, I would have had a 'real income' rather than struggling as an educator!
Bottom line, make money, keep it selfishly and smile as you 'close the door.' Who was it that said, 'leave 'em laughin'...
It's been interesting. It's been lonely. It's been successful for me...that's all that counts!
Sunday, October 17, 2010
The Past Reminds Me
AS I sat and scrolled through a wonderful CD of the Davis Family, the images brought so many memories flooding into my mind. Growing up in the country, well, that was a special part of my life. Having tremendous parents, another gift from God. But, being one small piece of the Davis Clan, the aunts, uncles, cousins galore and more, well, that was a special gift of life.
Of the ten Davis children, only one remains among us today. Hubert. He was the youngest of the brood, raised a family of four and has been blessed with many,many grandchildren and finally, a precious great granddaughter! The Davis Clan was built on a strong foundation of love and Christian faith.
Thank you John Franklin and Nancy Elizabeth Davis. Job well done!
Today, several of the children and grandchildren are serving in God's ministry, their hearts are full of love and compassion for humanity and their lives are given gladly to walk the path in today's world. They are some of the very bright lights within the Clan!
No, I didn't go into any ministry, I served as a public educator for thirty years of my life and had the great opportunity to influence young lives day after day. Although I was never blessed with children of my own, I have had too many to count, for the door into my classroom was a revolving door. With a smile upon my face, I welcomed everyone into my domain, for I worked diligently to provide a 'safe harbor' for all who entered.
All of our lives have presented many opportunities, many trials, many accomplishments, even some failures...but, overall, it is what we've done with our lives that counts. When I saw pictures of me in the past, I was jarred by the look of me, my body, my presence. You see, I had been in trouble for several years with the sleep apnea stuff...just didn't realize what it was doing to me.
When I look at past pics of me, I can see the danger signs glowing in every snapshot. Huge, puffy, looking as though I would explode if someone stuck a pin in me. Wow, I think back on those days of no air, unable to walk very far at one time and remember the sleepless nights I paced my home wondering, what's the deal? While the world slept, I spent nights leaning over the counter to breathe a little easier.
It was easy to 'hide' my conflict. You learn quickly to 'pose' in the manner you wish others to see you. The game had become an event to me, for I wanted no one to recognize my inability to keep the pace with life in those days. However, for some reason, when it all came to a thunderous moment of real life, I faced death and the good Lord saw fit to see me through.
They say, He has something greater and far more important in 'store' for you when you've faced that time and walked away. I guess He does...still trying to figure that part out! But, my journey since 2004 has been completely remarkable and joyous after my Lap Band experience.
No, I'm not a skinny minny still, but, I have my really good health status back in tow. I can walk like a champion, participate in life and enjoy every new day as the sun breaks upon the horizon. My vision has become sharper, my intent more focused and my zest for being all that I can be has increased once again.
Like many friends and family...it's been a life filled with ups, downs, in betweens..but, overall, a satisfying trek. Following a marriage in 2007, I thought life was just perfect. However, that was not to be. And, after a divorce in 2010, I once again began walking life's path alone. But, there is a reason for everything, so they say.
One of these fabulous days when it slaps me in the face, I'll share it with you. Until then, I stand amazed, watching, reading about, talking to and listening to others. Many have had major life changes in the past year. Some have taken their lives to foreign places numerous times to serve as missionaries, and, others have remained status quo in there comfortable little piece of the world.
My conclusion from visiting the past this morning and reflecting upon life is very simply. The journey has been gratifying. The challenges have been, at times, overwhelming. But, the victories far exceed the losses in my life! One of my single most important job's in life today remains a very simple one....share a smile, give someone a surprise through a random act of kindness and always, always love family and friends for they are life.
Recently, I had a monumental challenge that I had never faced before. Basically, it dealt with a financial obligation to an insurance company...home owners. Since my divorce, I've been working to rebuild my foundation and although I have made strides, sometimes, a piece of life blows us into the next lane unexpectedly. Regardless, a long-time, tremendous BFF stepped in and threw me a safety line! Suddenly, I realized we are never alone in this world. Sometimes we make boundaries around ourselves, but once we step into the light, everyone's still there.
It's Sunday, an afternoon of football watching, a good Sunday lunch and just a casual pace for the entire day. Pause this week and reflect upon your life. There are no 'do-overs' in life, but perhaps you will stumble upon a revelation that will catapult you into nothing but blue skies and green lights on every corner!
Go for it! Life is what we make it...and, remember...
LAUGHTER IS THE MUSIC OF THE SOUL. Make someone smile every day this week!
Luv and laughter to all...
me
Of the ten Davis children, only one remains among us today. Hubert. He was the youngest of the brood, raised a family of four and has been blessed with many,many grandchildren and finally, a precious great granddaughter! The Davis Clan was built on a strong foundation of love and Christian faith.
Thank you John Franklin and Nancy Elizabeth Davis. Job well done!
Today, several of the children and grandchildren are serving in God's ministry, their hearts are full of love and compassion for humanity and their lives are given gladly to walk the path in today's world. They are some of the very bright lights within the Clan!
No, I didn't go into any ministry, I served as a public educator for thirty years of my life and had the great opportunity to influence young lives day after day. Although I was never blessed with children of my own, I have had too many to count, for the door into my classroom was a revolving door. With a smile upon my face, I welcomed everyone into my domain, for I worked diligently to provide a 'safe harbor' for all who entered.
All of our lives have presented many opportunities, many trials, many accomplishments, even some failures...but, overall, it is what we've done with our lives that counts. When I saw pictures of me in the past, I was jarred by the look of me, my body, my presence. You see, I had been in trouble for several years with the sleep apnea stuff...just didn't realize what it was doing to me.
When I look at past pics of me, I can see the danger signs glowing in every snapshot. Huge, puffy, looking as though I would explode if someone stuck a pin in me. Wow, I think back on those days of no air, unable to walk very far at one time and remember the sleepless nights I paced my home wondering, what's the deal? While the world slept, I spent nights leaning over the counter to breathe a little easier.
It was easy to 'hide' my conflict. You learn quickly to 'pose' in the manner you wish others to see you. The game had become an event to me, for I wanted no one to recognize my inability to keep the pace with life in those days. However, for some reason, when it all came to a thunderous moment of real life, I faced death and the good Lord saw fit to see me through.
They say, He has something greater and far more important in 'store' for you when you've faced that time and walked away. I guess He does...still trying to figure that part out! But, my journey since 2004 has been completely remarkable and joyous after my Lap Band experience.
No, I'm not a skinny minny still, but, I have my really good health status back in tow. I can walk like a champion, participate in life and enjoy every new day as the sun breaks upon the horizon. My vision has become sharper, my intent more focused and my zest for being all that I can be has increased once again.
Like many friends and family...it's been a life filled with ups, downs, in betweens..but, overall, a satisfying trek. Following a marriage in 2007, I thought life was just perfect. However, that was not to be. And, after a divorce in 2010, I once again began walking life's path alone. But, there is a reason for everything, so they say.
One of these fabulous days when it slaps me in the face, I'll share it with you. Until then, I stand amazed, watching, reading about, talking to and listening to others. Many have had major life changes in the past year. Some have taken their lives to foreign places numerous times to serve as missionaries, and, others have remained status quo in there comfortable little piece of the world.
My conclusion from visiting the past this morning and reflecting upon life is very simply. The journey has been gratifying. The challenges have been, at times, overwhelming. But, the victories far exceed the losses in my life! One of my single most important job's in life today remains a very simple one....share a smile, give someone a surprise through a random act of kindness and always, always love family and friends for they are life.
Recently, I had a monumental challenge that I had never faced before. Basically, it dealt with a financial obligation to an insurance company...home owners. Since my divorce, I've been working to rebuild my foundation and although I have made strides, sometimes, a piece of life blows us into the next lane unexpectedly. Regardless, a long-time, tremendous BFF stepped in and threw me a safety line! Suddenly, I realized we are never alone in this world. Sometimes we make boundaries around ourselves, but once we step into the light, everyone's still there.
It's Sunday, an afternoon of football watching, a good Sunday lunch and just a casual pace for the entire day. Pause this week and reflect upon your life. There are no 'do-overs' in life, but perhaps you will stumble upon a revelation that will catapult you into nothing but blue skies and green lights on every corner!
Go for it! Life is what we make it...and, remember...
LAUGHTER IS THE MUSIC OF THE SOUL. Make someone smile every day this week!
Luv and laughter to all...
me
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
I WAS IN THE BAND...NOW, THE BAND'S IN ME
Sure 'nuff she said. I marched in the band, played in the band, ran with the band, performed with the band and stayed in the band through my second year at BaylorU. Fun, challenging, enriching and carefree. Lots of hard work and practice hours however, but we never minded that at all.
Today, the band is playin' me like a fiddle instead of a clarinet. Some days it's happy and some days it's not. Some days it cooperates, other days it punishes me. Some days are good days, some days are yuck days. Some days I look forward to food, other days I wonder if I will ever really appreciate food again.
The learning curve has been about 18 months now. The band is still teaching, I'm still learning..and most days IT'S THROWING CURVES RIGHT AND LEFT. Not saying that's a good thing or a bad thing, just sayin'. When you've reached a point where you see food in your mind and drift away into, 'I don't really care to go there...that's when you recognize change in yourself." When you've bought some food and eaten a serving of it and two days later , toss it...that's when you know you've changed. When mealtimes approaching and you'll be happy to slurp a Kellog's Protein Shake instead...that's when you wonder...have I really become this?
I see my surgeon again next Tuesday. First time in three months. He and I are definitely gonna have a 'come to Jesus meetin' with my band leading the CHORUS! I have 9.5 cc's of sailine in there, I have tossed cookies/tea/potatoes/okra and numerous other items more than I care to acknowledge in the past three months. Somethin's gotta give and me be thinkin'...might be the band for the next three months. It's time to 'band' together and decide how to get the weight loss movin' again.
Nope, haven't been abusive, haven't ignored vitamins, haven't this, haven't that...dosen't seem to matter what I do or don't do, I remain in the same ballpark with the band playing it's own special tune..."I've got me around your skin!!!" That's a truth!
So, here I sit on a drizzly afternoon contimplating my opening speech next Tuesday.
Dr. Sherman and Learning Interns...
I'm glad we have this opportunity to sit and stare at each other in this examination room. However, it's time to discuss this journey where I immediately dropped right at 50 and the minute you gave me the first fill, I became stagnant!
I've been thinking...how would it be if we backed a lot of the fill out today and revved our engines as we come outta the gate tomorrow? I don't ever want to aBANDon the BAND. But, we must BAND together and do some problem solving.
Therefore, toss the dice and see which intern gets to practice the STICK! Rules are, three strikes, he/she's out!! Once you puncture the tummy the third time and still have not found the port...YOU ARE GOING TO THE MEDICAL DUGOUT. That's when the STICKYING COACH comes in and hits it the first time.
I know, generous of me, correct! HA! I just love to see a greenhorn sweat bullets over the band! When they stab that long needle in my tummy and, nothing...they break into a little line of perspiration above the forehead. Then, the apologies come rollin' in.
Anyhow, next tuesday, my team and I are going to begin a new approach on this challenge. Thus far the band is winning, I'm eating far less and even the right foods and staying status quo. that coupled with life events in the past few months is becoming a pain in my b>>>a n d!
So, here's to a symphony orchestrated to a tee. Instead of being a stand alone band, I want the band to become a cooperative ensemble! Nuff said....
Here's to you and here's to me.
Here's to the band and giant glass of tea.
Yep, it's a natural diuretic, it makes me ....oh well,
You get the drift.
A funky band mode today on a funkY rainy afternoon.
Here's to the bands
rubber bands, gastric bands, marching bands, and MY BAND!!! Squeeze me, teeze me...just don't sit there and appease me!!
Later...the funk's over!
Today, the band is playin' me like a fiddle instead of a clarinet. Some days it's happy and some days it's not. Some days it cooperates, other days it punishes me. Some days are good days, some days are yuck days. Some days I look forward to food, other days I wonder if I will ever really appreciate food again.
The learning curve has been about 18 months now. The band is still teaching, I'm still learning..and most days IT'S THROWING CURVES RIGHT AND LEFT. Not saying that's a good thing or a bad thing, just sayin'. When you've reached a point where you see food in your mind and drift away into, 'I don't really care to go there...that's when you recognize change in yourself." When you've bought some food and eaten a serving of it and two days later , toss it...that's when you know you've changed. When mealtimes approaching and you'll be happy to slurp a Kellog's Protein Shake instead...that's when you wonder...have I really become this?
I see my surgeon again next Tuesday. First time in three months. He and I are definitely gonna have a 'come to Jesus meetin' with my band leading the CHORUS! I have 9.5 cc's of sailine in there, I have tossed cookies/tea/potatoes/okra and numerous other items more than I care to acknowledge in the past three months. Somethin's gotta give and me be thinkin'...might be the band for the next three months. It's time to 'band' together and decide how to get the weight loss movin' again.
Nope, haven't been abusive, haven't ignored vitamins, haven't this, haven't that...dosen't seem to matter what I do or don't do, I remain in the same ballpark with the band playing it's own special tune..."I've got me around your skin!!!" That's a truth!
So, here I sit on a drizzly afternoon contimplating my opening speech next Tuesday.
Dr. Sherman and Learning Interns...
I'm glad we have this opportunity to sit and stare at each other in this examination room. However, it's time to discuss this journey where I immediately dropped right at 50 and the minute you gave me the first fill, I became stagnant!
I've been thinking...how would it be if we backed a lot of the fill out today and revved our engines as we come outta the gate tomorrow? I don't ever want to aBANDon the BAND. But, we must BAND together and do some problem solving.
Therefore, toss the dice and see which intern gets to practice the STICK! Rules are, three strikes, he/she's out!! Once you puncture the tummy the third time and still have not found the port...YOU ARE GOING TO THE MEDICAL DUGOUT. That's when the STICKYING COACH comes in and hits it the first time.
I know, generous of me, correct! HA! I just love to see a greenhorn sweat bullets over the band! When they stab that long needle in my tummy and, nothing...they break into a little line of perspiration above the forehead. Then, the apologies come rollin' in.
Anyhow, next tuesday, my team and I are going to begin a new approach on this challenge. Thus far the band is winning, I'm eating far less and even the right foods and staying status quo. that coupled with life events in the past few months is becoming a pain in my b>>>a n d!
So, here's to a symphony orchestrated to a tee. Instead of being a stand alone band, I want the band to become a cooperative ensemble! Nuff said....
Here's to you and here's to me.
Here's to the band and giant glass of tea.
Yep, it's a natural diuretic, it makes me ....oh well,
You get the drift.
A funky band mode today on a funkY rainy afternoon.
Here's to the bands
rubber bands, gastric bands, marching bands, and MY BAND!!! Squeeze me, teeze me...just don't sit there and appease me!!
Later...the funk's over!
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Frozen Ponds at Christmas Time
The life of a dairyman and his family was eventful sometimes. The summers could be scorching hot, searing the skin until it felt deep fried. A blazing hot sun on a cloudless day was brutal most times. In Central Texas, humidity wasn't the issue, but a strong wind blew constant determined to take one down to the ground!
It was a dry heat. Different than gulf coast living. It was tolerable, but one still had to be careful to avoid heat exhaustion or heat stroke. Following a blazing summer, came the Fall.
It was a always a welcome change, moving into better temps and seeing the change of season moving forward. If it was to be a cold winter, the leaves would begin to change and dance to the rythm of the blowing winds. Trees were everywhere one looked...tall, skinny, fat, knarled, elegant and some, downright ugly, but green.
As the weather changed, the life of the dairyman picked up tempo somewhat. Waking at 4 a.m. to begin his day, the cows were pastured and had to be called to the lot where they stood aimlessly waiting their turn to walk into the barn.
The barn was stark white, cement blocks, with a row of windows that framed it's entire front. IN the summer, every window was flung wide open to alleviate some of the heat. And, in harmony with the natural wind, a big water cooler was hung in the end wall...blowing a blissful cool breeze of air constantly throughout the afternoon hours in hot weather.
As 'ol Man Winter set up residence, the windows were slammed shut, the catch locked and thus they remained for the duration. The old antique wood stove sat quietly about five feet inside the front door of the barn. When the temp dropped, the wood was shoved in the small front opening and lit to provide that steady circle of warmth within a few feet of the old grey wood burning stove.
INside the barn, the cows would be standing with their head locked in a stantion, eating the blissful scoops of feed that lay silenty for them to consume. As a milking machine was attached to the four udders and the power turned on, the rythmical, singsong of the pulsating machines could lull you into nothingness. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh as the milk ran down the glass bowl where you could watch it disappear into the pipeline. Four machines ran constantly, gently nursing the sweet, white milk from cow's udder and sending it on a rampaging journey into the stainless steel milk line.
Once it dumped into the 3000 pound stainless steel, refrigerated tank, job done. It was chilled ice cold until the Pure Milk Co. truck roared up into the wide gravel drive and swing hastily into postion to back up to the milk room.
Once there, a long, circular tube was taken from the tanker and snaked through the small, round opening near the floor of the front porch. Once inside, the driver quickly connected it to the siphone spout and then cranked open the valve. Two thousand pounds of milk poured from the huge tank and emptied into the belly of the sleeping giant.
After all was said and done, everything was disconnected and the milkman was on his way. Another day, another dollar...'udderly' amazing, it was.
Those were the more simple days of the dairy life. However, as old man winter took aim on the Waco area each season, one could be more deadly than the year before. On a particular Christmas/New Year time, he struck with voracity. No mercy.
The temps plunged into the teens, the rain turned into sleet and the horrific winter winds howled. Didn't matter what the conditions were, the work had to go on. Battling the weather, the elements and all, finally getting the cows rounded up and penned within their barbed wire perimeter, another session could commence.
However, December 1966 delivered a powerful punch. It was necessary for the farm hands to take axes to the tanks/ponds. The water was frozen inches thick and cows must have water to survive, regardless of the extreme weather and conditions.
Heaving the heavy axes high above their shoulders and then slamming it down into the thick, frozen ice, was a sound you wouldn't forget. It didn't work with one blow...it was challenging. And, most likely, by the end of the next milking round, it had to be repeated.
That winter scenerio appeared many times throughout my dad's 37 years of dairying. However, that New year's Eve was very unkind. The weather was foul, the temps were single digits, mud was everywhere, sleet pelted you when you left the cover of house or barn and it was unending.
To worsen the situation, the water pipes to the big county home had frozen solid, thus no water indoors. When all seemd hopeless,an unexpected event took place. That early morning on New year's Eve,my dad sat at the end of the dining table. Mother was there with him and watched in horror as the ill-fated episode commenced.
With a terrible headache, he suddenly threw his head back and as he did, his gray eyes rolled to back of his head. He was reaching for the back of his neck when it hit,and his right arm was frozen in place as well.
As panic raced through her veins, Lucille dawned raincoat and slickers and trotted to the barn to get the help to come and see what was going on. The man had been 'filling' in for J.W. since he had experienced flu like symptoms during the preceding days.
When the two shot through the back porch door, J.W. was sitting with his forehead resting on his right hand. The episode had released him, but there was definitely something terrible going on. His color was ashen gray/white and he could not speak a word.
Assisting him to the back seat of the car, off they went,hurling over the old iron railing bridge and skimming across the cracked cement bottom stretch of road. To the hospital as fast as the tires would turn from 5 miles out in the country into the heart of town.
Turned out, he had a 98% blockage in his right carotid artery and was on the verge of a stroke. Surgery was successful and he was taken home the third day after. In all of the mallay, the help had quit and walked out.
What would happen to the 52 cows that had to be milked twice a day? Panic set in and many phone calls followed. Finally, a young dairyman who knew J.W. agreed to stand in for him. That young man would milk his herd and rush over to our farm to milk my dad's herd.
We were saved by the grace of neighbor with a good heart! Well, we thought that was the case. Soon after my dad returned to his milking schedule, he began to notice many of his prize cows were 'drying up'....that meant they would be out to pasture for months before birthing a bull or heifer calf and returning the milk line. The young man had not let them milk out completely during each session. He was running short on time, so he cut many corners that cost a great deal ultimately.
That season of ice, wind, sleet and other...was the most costly season for my dad. Without a large number of cows standing at the stall, munching on the grain, liberally offering milk to gentle massage of a milking machine, production dropped drastically.
That season ended up and cost a lot in losses. Did he recover? Yes, over time. Was it easy? Not at all. Paying for loads of feed costs hundreds of dollars. But, finally the production had turned around, winter had passed on by and the spring time was just on the verge of landing in Central Texas.
Life on the farm was challenging for the man in charge. But, with strong will and a good mind, he always surpassed the mark and was known as one of a very few highly successful dairyman in the central Texas area.
To our wonder, we never did experience as harsh a winter as that one, ever again. I tip my hat to my dad...his strong character and dedication to family and work kept him going. ON the flip side,his best cheerleader/partner, my mother, was a very intregal part of that successful equation.
Through the good, the bad and the ugly...we survived and lived to face the next onslaught of unexpected challenges...or welcome the unexpected blessings sent our way. It was a win-win...successful until his retirement in 1970. Thanks to the strong Freedman duo. Job well done!
It was a dry heat. Different than gulf coast living. It was tolerable, but one still had to be careful to avoid heat exhaustion or heat stroke. Following a blazing summer, came the Fall.
It was a always a welcome change, moving into better temps and seeing the change of season moving forward. If it was to be a cold winter, the leaves would begin to change and dance to the rythm of the blowing winds. Trees were everywhere one looked...tall, skinny, fat, knarled, elegant and some, downright ugly, but green.
As the weather changed, the life of the dairyman picked up tempo somewhat. Waking at 4 a.m. to begin his day, the cows were pastured and had to be called to the lot where they stood aimlessly waiting their turn to walk into the barn.
The barn was stark white, cement blocks, with a row of windows that framed it's entire front. IN the summer, every window was flung wide open to alleviate some of the heat. And, in harmony with the natural wind, a big water cooler was hung in the end wall...blowing a blissful cool breeze of air constantly throughout the afternoon hours in hot weather.
As 'ol Man Winter set up residence, the windows were slammed shut, the catch locked and thus they remained for the duration. The old antique wood stove sat quietly about five feet inside the front door of the barn. When the temp dropped, the wood was shoved in the small front opening and lit to provide that steady circle of warmth within a few feet of the old grey wood burning stove.
INside the barn, the cows would be standing with their head locked in a stantion, eating the blissful scoops of feed that lay silenty for them to consume. As a milking machine was attached to the four udders and the power turned on, the rythmical, singsong of the pulsating machines could lull you into nothingness. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh as the milk ran down the glass bowl where you could watch it disappear into the pipeline. Four machines ran constantly, gently nursing the sweet, white milk from cow's udder and sending it on a rampaging journey into the stainless steel milk line.
Once it dumped into the 3000 pound stainless steel, refrigerated tank, job done. It was chilled ice cold until the Pure Milk Co. truck roared up into the wide gravel drive and swing hastily into postion to back up to the milk room.
Once there, a long, circular tube was taken from the tanker and snaked through the small, round opening near the floor of the front porch. Once inside, the driver quickly connected it to the siphone spout and then cranked open the valve. Two thousand pounds of milk poured from the huge tank and emptied into the belly of the sleeping giant.
After all was said and done, everything was disconnected and the milkman was on his way. Another day, another dollar...'udderly' amazing, it was.
Those were the more simple days of the dairy life. However, as old man winter took aim on the Waco area each season, one could be more deadly than the year before. On a particular Christmas/New Year time, he struck with voracity. No mercy.
The temps plunged into the teens, the rain turned into sleet and the horrific winter winds howled. Didn't matter what the conditions were, the work had to go on. Battling the weather, the elements and all, finally getting the cows rounded up and penned within their barbed wire perimeter, another session could commence.
However, December 1966 delivered a powerful punch. It was necessary for the farm hands to take axes to the tanks/ponds. The water was frozen inches thick and cows must have water to survive, regardless of the extreme weather and conditions.
Heaving the heavy axes high above their shoulders and then slamming it down into the thick, frozen ice, was a sound you wouldn't forget. It didn't work with one blow...it was challenging. And, most likely, by the end of the next milking round, it had to be repeated.
That winter scenerio appeared many times throughout my dad's 37 years of dairying. However, that New year's Eve was very unkind. The weather was foul, the temps were single digits, mud was everywhere, sleet pelted you when you left the cover of house or barn and it was unending.
To worsen the situation, the water pipes to the big county home had frozen solid, thus no water indoors. When all seemd hopeless,an unexpected event took place. That early morning on New year's Eve,my dad sat at the end of the dining table. Mother was there with him and watched in horror as the ill-fated episode commenced.
With a terrible headache, he suddenly threw his head back and as he did, his gray eyes rolled to back of his head. He was reaching for the back of his neck when it hit,and his right arm was frozen in place as well.
As panic raced through her veins, Lucille dawned raincoat and slickers and trotted to the barn to get the help to come and see what was going on. The man had been 'filling' in for J.W. since he had experienced flu like symptoms during the preceding days.
When the two shot through the back porch door, J.W. was sitting with his forehead resting on his right hand. The episode had released him, but there was definitely something terrible going on. His color was ashen gray/white and he could not speak a word.
Assisting him to the back seat of the car, off they went,hurling over the old iron railing bridge and skimming across the cracked cement bottom stretch of road. To the hospital as fast as the tires would turn from 5 miles out in the country into the heart of town.
Turned out, he had a 98% blockage in his right carotid artery and was on the verge of a stroke. Surgery was successful and he was taken home the third day after. In all of the mallay, the help had quit and walked out.
What would happen to the 52 cows that had to be milked twice a day? Panic set in and many phone calls followed. Finally, a young dairyman who knew J.W. agreed to stand in for him. That young man would milk his herd and rush over to our farm to milk my dad's herd.
We were saved by the grace of neighbor with a good heart! Well, we thought that was the case. Soon after my dad returned to his milking schedule, he began to notice many of his prize cows were 'drying up'....that meant they would be out to pasture for months before birthing a bull or heifer calf and returning the milk line. The young man had not let them milk out completely during each session. He was running short on time, so he cut many corners that cost a great deal ultimately.
That season of ice, wind, sleet and other...was the most costly season for my dad. Without a large number of cows standing at the stall, munching on the grain, liberally offering milk to gentle massage of a milking machine, production dropped drastically.
That season ended up and cost a lot in losses. Did he recover? Yes, over time. Was it easy? Not at all. Paying for loads of feed costs hundreds of dollars. But, finally the production had turned around, winter had passed on by and the spring time was just on the verge of landing in Central Texas.
Life on the farm was challenging for the man in charge. But, with strong will and a good mind, he always surpassed the mark and was known as one of a very few highly successful dairyman in the central Texas area.
To our wonder, we never did experience as harsh a winter as that one, ever again. I tip my hat to my dad...his strong character and dedication to family and work kept him going. ON the flip side,his best cheerleader/partner, my mother, was a very intregal part of that successful equation.
Through the good, the bad and the ugly...we survived and lived to face the next onslaught of unexpected challenges...or welcome the unexpected blessings sent our way. It was a win-win...successful until his retirement in 1970. Thanks to the strong Freedman duo. Job well done!
Through Colored Glasses
Springtime in the country was the most beautiful time on the dairyfarm. The grass grew thick and deep, green and plush and served as the perfect bed for a teenage girl to lay on her back, gazing at the floating clouds.
As the horse lazily grazed, the blonde haired, blue-eyed kid lay in the breeze and dreamed. The clouds took on many different shapes and sizes, but there was always something in the sky to grab her attention and hold her steadfast with wonder.
The soft bed of plush, new growth felt as comfortable as bed...because it wasn't about that at all. It was about relaxing, clearing the mind and letting life's visions dance through her mind. True, she lived out from the community and had to commute to the high school.
For some, perhaps that would have been a challenge. To her, it was life. The best life. Driving home each day, hearing the kerplunk of the gravel rocks spatting the car as she sailed through the course was a symphony to her. It was the sound of home. That was what she knew.
Rounding the final "S" curve prior to entering the huge gravel drive up to the big 'ol white country home, she'd slow gently and cruise the course while looking out over the bottom land.
A large tank sat right in the crook of the pasture and beyond that, many acres of flat ground that led down the banks of Tehuacana Creek. A long, narrow 'slew' ran through the middle ground of the bottom and always some amount of water in it. Had to be careful though if you rode a horse into it.
The mud was like peanut butter, thick, sticky and would suck a leg deeper into the wet goo. Once a horse hit the mud, a loud pop would explode with each foot lifted from slime and sticky grip. Black, wet, cold mud clinging for life would almost make a good horse founder.
The view from big front porch of the country home was worth the time. You sat upon the steps and slowling raised your eyes from the white board fence around the plush yard and ran the view for thousands of yard to treeline of the old, crooked creek.
Not only did the lazy bottom offer room for horseback riding, hide 'n seek with other horse buds and hidden, secret lairs on the creek, it offered massive hay crops. Her daddy planted hay every spring and it would be harvested in the summer. The very hot, sweaty summer!
Life was the sound of the huge combine mowing the hay and laying it down in straight rows...that enabled the 'bailer' to drive beside it, scoop a bale amount in, shape it into a rectangle and wrap two pieces of bailing wire around it. The rythmical hum of the mower could be heard all the way of the bottom hill into the front yard of the country home.
Captured, baled and encapsulated, the hay would lay until the haulers were hired to go and stack every bale and deliver it to the giant, wide-open hay barn. That's what made the 'fun' for the farmer's daughter. Hay stacks, jumping from the upper tier, playing in the hand built maze of tunnels and some days....sitting among the huge bales of peanut hay with her dog, Rip. Peeling one peanut at a time and killing an afternoon. Crunch and more crunch!
For some, the country was absurd. Country. Huuummpphh...who'd live that far out? Sometimes, those questions were posed to us 'country folk' when we were in the huge metropolis of Bellmead, Texas. I think the Baylor folks had a saying 'bout Bellmead...something like "help the needy in Bellmeady'....so, country to me wasn't bad at all.
When her brother hit the big BU band and became a Frat brother in K-PSi...all of those young men would gather in the middle of the country home...sitting in the living room floor, every spring to watch the biggest event of the year....THE ACADEMY AWARDS.
Yep, some of them were from million dollar families, parents who toured the world or, perhaps, from a place where he was considered fortunate to enter BU. It didn't matter. The country home was just that. Everyone was welcome, the food was wonderful and the hospitality could be matched by none!!
After living in the country, with 300 acres for a playground, city life held no candle. The blonde haired country girl spent her life in education. Through various avenues, connections were made with old high school friends/classmates. Amazingly enough, several of those 'city folk' have ended up living their lives in the COUNTRY! They love it, they have horses, they love nature and more! Imagine...she was the kid on the 'outside' looking in. Now those other kids are in the lap of life!
One of life's lessons for all should be that of respecting and loving all for who they are. It matters not what a person looks like, how they talk or what brand of shirt they dawn for class. Life truly teaches until the end of the road. I hope all of us have enriched ourselves through the years, settled comfortably into the now and understand that friends are what make the world go round.
And, no fear....after all, "He's got the whole world in His hands!"
As the horse lazily grazed, the blonde haired, blue-eyed kid lay in the breeze and dreamed. The clouds took on many different shapes and sizes, but there was always something in the sky to grab her attention and hold her steadfast with wonder.
The soft bed of plush, new growth felt as comfortable as bed...because it wasn't about that at all. It was about relaxing, clearing the mind and letting life's visions dance through her mind. True, she lived out from the community and had to commute to the high school.
For some, perhaps that would have been a challenge. To her, it was life. The best life. Driving home each day, hearing the kerplunk of the gravel rocks spatting the car as she sailed through the course was a symphony to her. It was the sound of home. That was what she knew.
Rounding the final "S" curve prior to entering the huge gravel drive up to the big 'ol white country home, she'd slow gently and cruise the course while looking out over the bottom land.
A large tank sat right in the crook of the pasture and beyond that, many acres of flat ground that led down the banks of Tehuacana Creek. A long, narrow 'slew' ran through the middle ground of the bottom and always some amount of water in it. Had to be careful though if you rode a horse into it.
The mud was like peanut butter, thick, sticky and would suck a leg deeper into the wet goo. Once a horse hit the mud, a loud pop would explode with each foot lifted from slime and sticky grip. Black, wet, cold mud clinging for life would almost make a good horse founder.
The view from big front porch of the country home was worth the time. You sat upon the steps and slowling raised your eyes from the white board fence around the plush yard and ran the view for thousands of yard to treeline of the old, crooked creek.
Not only did the lazy bottom offer room for horseback riding, hide 'n seek with other horse buds and hidden, secret lairs on the creek, it offered massive hay crops. Her daddy planted hay every spring and it would be harvested in the summer. The very hot, sweaty summer!
Life was the sound of the huge combine mowing the hay and laying it down in straight rows...that enabled the 'bailer' to drive beside it, scoop a bale amount in, shape it into a rectangle and wrap two pieces of bailing wire around it. The rythmical hum of the mower could be heard all the way of the bottom hill into the front yard of the country home.
Captured, baled and encapsulated, the hay would lay until the haulers were hired to go and stack every bale and deliver it to the giant, wide-open hay barn. That's what made the 'fun' for the farmer's daughter. Hay stacks, jumping from the upper tier, playing in the hand built maze of tunnels and some days....sitting among the huge bales of peanut hay with her dog, Rip. Peeling one peanut at a time and killing an afternoon. Crunch and more crunch!
For some, the country was absurd. Country. Huuummpphh...who'd live that far out? Sometimes, those questions were posed to us 'country folk' when we were in the huge metropolis of Bellmead, Texas. I think the Baylor folks had a saying 'bout Bellmead...something like "help the needy in Bellmeady'....so, country to me wasn't bad at all.
When her brother hit the big BU band and became a Frat brother in K-PSi...all of those young men would gather in the middle of the country home...sitting in the living room floor, every spring to watch the biggest event of the year....THE ACADEMY AWARDS.
Yep, some of them were from million dollar families, parents who toured the world or, perhaps, from a place where he was considered fortunate to enter BU. It didn't matter. The country home was just that. Everyone was welcome, the food was wonderful and the hospitality could be matched by none!!
After living in the country, with 300 acres for a playground, city life held no candle. The blonde haired country girl spent her life in education. Through various avenues, connections were made with old high school friends/classmates. Amazingly enough, several of those 'city folk' have ended up living their lives in the COUNTRY! They love it, they have horses, they love nature and more! Imagine...she was the kid on the 'outside' looking in. Now those other kids are in the lap of life!
One of life's lessons for all should be that of respecting and loving all for who they are. It matters not what a person looks like, how they talk or what brand of shirt they dawn for class. Life truly teaches until the end of the road. I hope all of us have enriched ourselves through the years, settled comfortably into the now and understand that friends are what make the world go round.
And, no fear....after all, "He's got the whole world in His hands!"
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