Yesterday morning I surprised myself by feeling a little teary.  I'm not much of a crier.  Wait - that may not be true.  I tear up at unexpected times, times when my soul is engaged and my brain is on autopilot. I cried when I was making pesto this weekend.  A stranger was in the hospital dying. The pesto was an ingredient in a dish I was making to send over for visiting family.  Also strangers ... a mutual friend made the request and I was happy to help out.  1/4 cup of walnuts ... olive oil ... parmesan cheese ... a silent tear sliding down a cheek.  Usually those little tears are happy ones.

I would expect there might be tears associated with a child leaving for college. In my case this was the last of five to take that step and I hadn't shed a tear at any of those other transitions.  Maybe it's because this is the last one. She was unexpected at 42.  I didn't cry then  I laughed when a friend gave me a maternity t-shirt which read "OVER THE HILL AND OFF THE PILL" even though I wasn't off the pill at all. My career plans changed and I felt blessed to have one more chance to help build a foundation and I thought I'd be pretty good at it being an old hand.  I continued to work "part-time" and enjoyed the sweetness that a baby brings to a family. She flew with me a good bit before she was old enough to begin preschool.

The time flew by as it tends to do.

Maybe it was coming around the corner and seeing her room empty of those things that made it hers. A few favorite snapshots were hanging forlornly in an otherwise mostly vacant room.  Taking the cute little kitty cat bank out of a storage box in her closet and setting it out on an almost empty bookshelf in her room didn't make me feel much better. I remembered my own mother saying, "If I'd known you would never live at home again when you left for college, I wouldn't have let you go".  I thought that was such a weird thing for her to say.  That was years later.  I expect them to build their life in a nest of their own.  It's great when they come home, but it's different.  My Dad sent a hallmark card to me late in that first semester away.  It had 20 bucks in it and a note in his own writing which said pizza money ... money was tight in the home I grew up in, I knew he had converted it from his beer money.  The card was a perfect reflection of my dad's sense of humor.  On the outside it read "Since you've been gone we decided to convert the room where you spent all your time..." and on the inside "... we are using it as a house bath again."

My girl cousins on my mother's side are coming in for Labor Day weekend.  I don't know any of them at all.  I've maybe seen them twice at the most over my life but they are Facebook friends.  Weird, huh?  It was my idea and quite frankly, I vacillate between hoping it will be fun or at least helpful, to just cautious preparation.  My mom and her sister shared the most contentious dynamic that I've ever seen outside of political circles. I don't know why ... or how.  On of the cousins was asking about my mother trajectory once she began to decline physically.  In visiting with her via FB messenger I realized she was as adrift as I felt back when Momma was first diagnosed. Two of the cousin sisters have already opted out with pretty sound excuses (which I do not take personally, they may be even completely legit).  They all have slightly closer ties to each other than I have had with any of them.  There are some mean words between the different sets of cousins that seem to be generating plausible excuses for opting out.  We're planning on driving up to see all things "MAGNOLIA" for one of the days. I've asked every one to bring an already written description of a fun/funny event featuring their momma which will be read to the group and we can guess which of the four sisters that was.  I also asked everyone to bring a little token wrapped gift to be exchanged fire drill style. Company coming in, strangers to me basically.  That's why I'm fussing around in V's room. Making ready.

After that my husband and I plan on spending a couple weeks at the coast camping out (just us and the dog).  Then I have to get to class for a couple of days to do a FIRC - flight instruction recertification process.

I have a few things planned other than those delightful little trips.  I am relearning conversational Spanish.  It's tricky because I haven't found a "Tex-Mex" app and we don't really speak Español here in Texas. The app I'm using is set up sorta like a game.  It's fun.  I'm also relearning how to dive from the side into a pool.  I don't really like that - it hurts my face a  bit - but I think it will amuse grandkids one of these days. I had a really fun grandmother. I need time to work on that!  She baked a beautifully decorated cake to welcome Daddy's twin home (he lived overseas).  I'd forgotten the story, but was recently reminded by Daddy's cousin.  When my Uncle's bride (star of the visit) cut in to the cake, while everyone circled around, the cake exploded sending sticky bits everywhere and filling the room with (mostly) laughter.  Grandmomma had secretly hollowed out the cake and planted a blown up balloon inside.  I would never ever in a million years think of doing that! It was funny (mostly) ... I laughed to think of my super prankster G laughing her little 4'6" self silly, but I have a lot of work do to get anywhere near that level.

Today, I'm repotting my Meyer's lemon tree and working around the house for the cousin's visit. Mostly though, I'm sitting here listening to the pool fountain, chewing up perfectly melted ice cubes and attempting to get back in the habit of noting stuff here.

As far as "home improvement" goes, I have sheer drapes up next for this room. Next up tweaking the masterbath - haven't done a thing in there yet.

Recently flew Delta to ATL where TWO would be having a minor surgery.  It felt good that she wanted me there.

 I hadn't seen this technology in the seats. Pretty cool. They were getting a ground speed of 595mph with that 82mph tailwind.
I was a bit "creeped out" by the flight. It was delayed for over an hour and an equipment change was made and broadcast by the gate agent as she implored us to use the new seat assignments on a boarding pass that she swiped in from our original ones one person at a time.  She was really frazzled I thought. Why are the seating assignments changing I asked and she said it was because of an equipment down grade ... was to be an A321 per my ticket confirmation email and from where I stood near the window at her counter I glanced out and saw what looked to me to be an A321.  "Oh, what are we boarding?" I asked casually as she worked the angle of my phone to get the scan.  An Airbus 321 she said.  Hmmmm.
The Captain was greeting everyone as we boarded.  I may have been the last to board. "Did y'all get her all fired up?" or something like that I asked in passing and he weirdly responded that they had been dancing in the aisle before the passengers started arriving.  Weird right?  I smiled faintly in response and kept on moving to my seat.  The very same seat that I would be sharing with the lady beside me as part of her squeezed under the armrest and into my seat.  She flew the entire way, most of the way, with her eyes shut.  I was concerned that she might be a queasy flier, but later I thought maybe she just doesn't have great experiences in a sardine can. Because of the flight crews choice of words about weather at the destination I wanted to, and was unable to in flight, look at radar weather graphics. Honestly, the entire bumpy flight was smoother than a smooth day in a Cessna 172.  The landing was note worthy as we sat down rather firmly on the right mains and shimmied just a smidge before the left set made contact.  I've never experienced an actually carrier landing, but I have been accused of making them and it's never been a compliment ... hmmm, carrier landing, I thought followed by nice to be safely down.
I wasn't the last one off the plane and I thought it was really neat that the folks further back waited to let people more towards the front out.  People flying to ATL are probably well schooled in the Southern graces.  "Thanks for the safe flight." I said, head down, as I passed the crew members standing in the front galley.
My smile started as soon as I stepped off the plane when thoughts turned fully to my girl.  She said she'd meet me at the escalator.  I don't fly into ATL often enough to know what that meant exactly, but she seemed perfectly certain that I would automatically find my way there.  It didn't occur to me to think otherwise. I dodged into the ladies room to check my lipstick, wash my hands, and bring up an airport map.  Phone in hand I reemerged and starting walking briskly with the flow ... seemed like a plan.  Next thing I know the captain of that flight was at my side making small talk. He told me he used to be a hornet driver.  That may be perfectly normal talk in piloting circles - idk - I just really don't like people walking up bragging on themselves.  I like to decide if someone is impressive without the shortcuts.  "So, lots of carrier landings?" I asked and he said he was an instructor pilot and taught carrier landings even ... . (Oh gee whiz). I asked him what the delay was coming out of AUS to which he responded the cabin crew was late having worked a flight the night before and getting only six hours of downtime.  Pretty rough glamor job.  I kept on walking when we got to the proper turn and had to double back after some time had gone by - quick pit stop to shed my new friend.
Once on the airport train I started looking at my map but by then I was headed to the International Terminal and my daughter was texting somewhat frantically.  This is exactly how it feels when they think you're too old to navigate (life) I thought. I remembered fetching my mother-in-law from ATL over the years.  Eventually we worked out a way to meet her at the gate - you have to set that up in advance, but it can be done, at least it used to be.

end of the line on the ATL terminal train

The AUO ball cap was on her coffee table and she let me borrow it because it rained in Atlanta the whole three days I was there.  It felt so good to have time with just her.  Time. Time to focus on one person is rare in my family.  I loved it.  We had two days before her surgery and spent time exploring indoor places that she wanted to see.  My favorite treat was a glass of whiskey with a very large solid ice cube in it.  I love those ice cubes that are clear as glass. She's fine.  I hope to go back for a few days in October. I got in a hour later than expected (that may be a Delta thing because it seems to happen often) and was very glad to see my husband roll up to the curb.

Next morning and a long time planned "girl's weekend" with some of my oldest friends was on tap. I drove down to San Antonio for a weekend of silliness which included seeing Mamma Mia (cute), mani/pedis (Mani only for me, I dropped something on my foot and broke my big toe nail in half.  The proprietor really wanted to build a new toenail with filler but I declined), some shopping, and a Chinese foot massage.

AND a Chinese foot massage!  

Let me tell you about that.

I drove us there taking direction from the backseat.  You know how you're carefully following someone's directions but at the same time thinking "this couldn't be right"?  That's what was happening.  San Antonio has the feeling of hap-hazard urban design, and the streets seem narrow, pot holed, sorta dirty really. "Pull in here" my friend directed and we were in the Big Lots parking lot.  The Chinese Foot Massage place was a few doors down.  Pictured is the sign in their window extolling the many benefits of foot massage.  Re-live stress jumped out at me ..."Uh, how much is this gonna run?" I asked.  

We stepped inside and found a very dark room.  Ok, the room was completely dark like the forbidden pool hall in the town we all grew up in was dark, darker though because there were no pool table lights illuminating the space. There was a tiny spot light at the register and as my eyes adjusted I could read "One hour foot massage/$35.00 CASH ONLY".  I was in for 35 bucks worth of foot tinkering. I have a kind of a foot thing anyway so that seemed okay.  I wasn't even bothered by my lack of nail polish or complete nails for that matter.  This just didn't feel like the sort of place where one might be judged. I was glad it didn't smell like stale beer and cigarette smoke.

Behind a partition wall of cubbies, which were full of crisp clean white towels, was a row of oversized ottoman type beds with a moveable foot stool which if it was pushed along size the larger ottoman would combine to be the size of a narrow twin bed.  I took off my overshirt, revealing a cammy, and pulled my yoga pants up above my knees.  A woman brought a big vessel of hot epsom salted water in and indicated that I should sit down put my feet in and lay back.  My friends were on either side of me and I could see that they already had their eyes closed.  I should say all of them had been here on previous visits, I was the only novice in our group ... and closing my eyes seemed unlikely. The lady draped a nice smelling hot wash cloth over my eyes and told me to relax now.  From under the cloth I watched her squeeze something from a bottle and rub it on my feet.  I decided that closing my eyes would be more in the spirit of this adventure.  She moved from my feet leaving the soak tub in place and moved up to my head.  I could feel her trying to figure out how to take my hair down and I reached up to help.  Let me say now, as much of a sucker as I am for a foot massage, I am really all in on a scalp massage. Keeping my eyes closed became very easy.  She massaged my neck, face, shoulders, arms, legs and tapped me on the shoulder.  I was thinking, too bad this is over - money well spent - but I was actually instructed to turn over and at that time I noticed the lady had moved over to one of my friends and this was a tiny man helping me.  He moved the pillow and below it was a hole for my face to fit in just like the regular massage tables.  Then he massaged my back, my shoulders and arms and hands and my legs again. The whole thing was pretty much bliss.

I liked it.  It was fantastic.

I think there's a Chinese foot massage place between the Ramen place I like and the Korean grocery store where I shop in Austin.  I am absolutely certain that from my family, only one of my sons would be willing to go there with me.  I'd feel weird going in alone.  But ... it was really good. Not sure if my "flexibition" was improved or not, but I do know the massage was a bargain value and deserved the generous tip.

A few pictures from National Seashore campout -

I'll be back soon to write some notes - 

Just really busy!