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| (Sharpie magic - source unknown) |
Monday, October 31, 2016
Sunday, October 30, 2016
My Dream
First of all, don't read this (at all) if you haven't played the Landscape Game, an Ancient Chinese Thought Experiment. I don't want to ruin it for you!
Second, if you're my kid, I'd encourage you to wait on reading this until you'll note your own process - answers to the game - and I wouldn't begin that until much later - some time after your fortieth birthday. Save it. It can be done only once and it's going to be cooler to wait for more time on the planet.
Next, I read the introduction to the game, decided to do it when I had more time, and sat down with it early one morning, after the house was quiet. I did follow the rules of "one question at a time" and did them in order, writing my responses as I went along. My story follows - including the little side note which I'll put in parenthesis.
My Dream:
I am dreaming. It begins after the beginning and ends before the end. I see my feet - walking, barefoot in powdery light dirt. The dirt, like the air, is warm, pleasantly so. Things feel calm, clean. I am in "the country". Grass and trees are all around - big trees, soft grass. Then people - like a camp - and some low buildings - also like a camp. There is singing - joy - laughter. There is a swing - near a lake. I am walking to the swing. I feel peaceful.
In the dream, I wake up in a smallish house. Various rooms are connected by covered, sometimes screened porches. My bedroom views a lot of "green" with a view of the beach. Some of the house walls slide open. It feels unfettered by safety concerns. The interior is basically white with muted grey. I see paintings with blues and greens. The house smells crisp - like linen. Everything is very tidy, but not austere. I feel old wood floors underfoot. I do not know where the house is. I cannot see other houses or buildings. It may be on an island, but it doesn't feel isolated. Maybe it is in the Puget Sound area NW of Seattle. I sense both lakes/rivers and ocean, but there are a lot of trees around.
It is early in the day, the hush of night is lifting, but the birds aren't active yet.
I came through a sliding screen door to get into the kitchen. The kitchen is nice. To my left is a big table with banquet seating and five chairs, it is open to the kitchen as is a great room. The kitchen has a high ceiling with sky lights - light is streaming in. The cabinets are medium dark wood - plain, and open shelves house basic dishes. The counter tops are cream colored with specks of grey to black, there are a few shimmery flecks catching the light. The appliances are under the wood - veneered - invisible. The sink is one, dark and deep. The oven is in an alcove with counter tops on either side - I think the counter top is steel, it is different. A pantry wraps the two outside walls of the kitchen. My coffee is in the pantry.
Now I am leaving the kitchen to go for a walk. As I step outside I see trees framing a lawn on the side of the house where I'm walking out. They provide a nice cover, but aren't super dense - there is grass under them and they part - or there is a wide opening in front of me with a sand/dirt path way - it opens up to reveal a shore line. Nearest to the house there are no tree trunks, but large branches stretch towards the house covering part of the patio like an umbrella - there is a bird feeder hanging there, but no outdoor furniture. I sometimes sit in the shade on the edge of the deck.
I am walking a winding path of stones and sand, past rocks and dry reeds that rattle and hum in the breeze. I crest a rise and start down. Looking around, I see beside the path a bowl which I pick up and carry with me. It is a clay bowl which I threw. It was fired with turquoise glaze rolled inside the bowl and then wiped clean for a "non-drip" edge. The outside of the bowl is natural, untooled clay, but you can see where my hands shaped it. It is rounded, well formed, sturdy yet relatively light. It fits in both hands best - as a serving bowl. My "D" and a tiny heart are imprinted and filled with turquoise on the bottom and there is a "footing ring" as a base.
The path moves on past ruins, there are false turnings everywhere, but I move straight on. Beside the path I see a key which I pick up and carry with me. The key is to a BMW - not really - the key is as long as my hand. It is golden with green oxidation - oh there are other colors too. The top of the key is ornate - like CELTIC scroll-y stuff, but flat and detailed where the lattice like pieces meet. It's a pretty fancy key. The business end is quite simple though. It looks like a hollow tube - writing pen sized. I can see "ridges" when I look inside the key "barrel". I have never seen a key like this. It feels worn smooth, comfortable in my hand. The key feels - alive -in my hand. "It" doesn't change from metal, but it seems to "turn on ?" as my hand warms it up.
(I am starting to feel a little uneasy about this ten question game. I am concerned that it doesn't end as nicely as it began.) (The feeling that the key likes me is almost too weird.)
Now the path has moved out of the forest into the open. It has grown hot. I find myself at a body of water. I am not surprised that the path has opened to water nor that it is hot. I walk right in to the - what? An ocean? It is salty water. I am all the way in. The bottom is smooth - I can see my feet, the water is very nice, warm, not overly wavy, just perfect. I see rainbow colored strings, the length of my fingers flowing in the water. The water is alive, nourishing. I see a dolphin type animal moving towards me. I smile.
The path is under water. I can see it, but the water gets deeper and deeper. The dolphin who has golden shimmery skin, silently tells me to hold on to his fin. I have the key and the bowl in my other hand and I tell him (again, silently) that I don't know how to keep everything with us in the water if I have only one hand to use. He says press the key against your heart and I do. The key "adheres" to my body - as though there is a spot specifically "key case" sized there. I am amazed. The dolphin has laughing eyes. He enjoys my pleasure at this discovery. I cup the bowl over the key and hold it close in the crook of my arm. With my left arm wrapped across my body, I hold on to the dolphin with my right hand. He says I am not hurting him. He is swimming us along - pleasantly, purposefully. I become smaller, or he becomes larger, I do not know which, as we approach a wall which seems to rise out of the water. As he slows down, my legs and feet sink down and I feel a solid surface under them. It feels like rock but there is a suction type thing also, like when you stand in sand along the shore. My feet feel "hugged" as I climb the wide shelf-like risers out of the water.
The wall is pearl like - white, seamless, but different from a pearl in that it does not have a solid edge - it is opaque - it looks like - I can't find the words exactly. It's solid because of its ... like water from way up high is "solid" if you enter it "wrong". This wall is "veil-like" - curtain like - I walk right into it! Exactly like entering the water! Those rainbow threads are moving everywhere in here - they are swirling together like DNA helix - double helix - sometimes they look like flowers - sometimes they look like dancing threads. My bowl is changing! It is humming like the reeds! It is becoming GOLD. My tears of joy, old sadnesses, I thought joy, but it started as joy and amazement, but now it feels like every hurt, broken, ugly part, memory, deed - it feels like I am becoming "clean" as tears flow out of me in the veil/wall. My bowl is filling up with the tears of me. The gold is rising with the tear line! My joy increases as the tears leave my body. I sense that there was pain and grief where goodness is seeping in to fill. I feel sad for myself even as I forget sadness - it is like lotion on very dry skin - you didn't know it was dry until the lotion, then you realize how bad it felt because of how good it now feels.
All I can see is light.
I am "on the other side" of the "wall". I hold my golden bowl in both hands as an offering.
Second, if you're my kid, I'd encourage you to wait on reading this until you'll note your own process - answers to the game - and I wouldn't begin that until much later - some time after your fortieth birthday. Save it. It can be done only once and it's going to be cooler to wait for more time on the planet.
Next, I read the introduction to the game, decided to do it when I had more time, and sat down with it early one morning, after the house was quiet. I did follow the rules of "one question at a time" and did them in order, writing my responses as I went along. My story follows - including the little side note which I'll put in parenthesis.
I am dreaming. It begins after the beginning and ends before the end. I see my feet - walking, barefoot in powdery light dirt. The dirt, like the air, is warm, pleasantly so. Things feel calm, clean. I am in "the country". Grass and trees are all around - big trees, soft grass. Then people - like a camp - and some low buildings - also like a camp. There is singing - joy - laughter. There is a swing - near a lake. I am walking to the swing. I feel peaceful.
In the dream, I wake up in a smallish house. Various rooms are connected by covered, sometimes screened porches. My bedroom views a lot of "green" with a view of the beach. Some of the house walls slide open. It feels unfettered by safety concerns. The interior is basically white with muted grey. I see paintings with blues and greens. The house smells crisp - like linen. Everything is very tidy, but not austere. I feel old wood floors underfoot. I do not know where the house is. I cannot see other houses or buildings. It may be on an island, but it doesn't feel isolated. Maybe it is in the Puget Sound area NW of Seattle. I sense both lakes/rivers and ocean, but there are a lot of trees around.
It is early in the day, the hush of night is lifting, but the birds aren't active yet.
I came through a sliding screen door to get into the kitchen. The kitchen is nice. To my left is a big table with banquet seating and five chairs, it is open to the kitchen as is a great room. The kitchen has a high ceiling with sky lights - light is streaming in. The cabinets are medium dark wood - plain, and open shelves house basic dishes. The counter tops are cream colored with specks of grey to black, there are a few shimmery flecks catching the light. The appliances are under the wood - veneered - invisible. The sink is one, dark and deep. The oven is in an alcove with counter tops on either side - I think the counter top is steel, it is different. A pantry wraps the two outside walls of the kitchen. My coffee is in the pantry.
Now I am leaving the kitchen to go for a walk. As I step outside I see trees framing a lawn on the side of the house where I'm walking out. They provide a nice cover, but aren't super dense - there is grass under them and they part - or there is a wide opening in front of me with a sand/dirt path way - it opens up to reveal a shore line. Nearest to the house there are no tree trunks, but large branches stretch towards the house covering part of the patio like an umbrella - there is a bird feeder hanging there, but no outdoor furniture. I sometimes sit in the shade on the edge of the deck.
I am walking a winding path of stones and sand, past rocks and dry reeds that rattle and hum in the breeze. I crest a rise and start down. Looking around, I see beside the path a bowl which I pick up and carry with me. It is a clay bowl which I threw. It was fired with turquoise glaze rolled inside the bowl and then wiped clean for a "non-drip" edge. The outside of the bowl is natural, untooled clay, but you can see where my hands shaped it. It is rounded, well formed, sturdy yet relatively light. It fits in both hands best - as a serving bowl. My "D" and a tiny heart are imprinted and filled with turquoise on the bottom and there is a "footing ring" as a base.
The path moves on past ruins, there are false turnings everywhere, but I move straight on. Beside the path I see a key which I pick up and carry with me. The key is to a BMW - not really - the key is as long as my hand. It is golden with green oxidation - oh there are other colors too. The top of the key is ornate - like CELTIC scroll-y stuff, but flat and detailed where the lattice like pieces meet. It's a pretty fancy key. The business end is quite simple though. It looks like a hollow tube - writing pen sized. I can see "ridges" when I look inside the key "barrel". I have never seen a key like this. It feels worn smooth, comfortable in my hand. The key feels - alive -in my hand. "It" doesn't change from metal, but it seems to "turn on ?" as my hand warms it up.
(I am starting to feel a little uneasy about this ten question game. I am concerned that it doesn't end as nicely as it began.) (The feeling that the key likes me is almost too weird.)
Now the path has moved out of the forest into the open. It has grown hot. I find myself at a body of water. I am not surprised that the path has opened to water nor that it is hot. I walk right in to the - what? An ocean? It is salty water. I am all the way in. The bottom is smooth - I can see my feet, the water is very nice, warm, not overly wavy, just perfect. I see rainbow colored strings, the length of my fingers flowing in the water. The water is alive, nourishing. I see a dolphin type animal moving towards me. I smile.
The path is under water. I can see it, but the water gets deeper and deeper. The dolphin who has golden shimmery skin, silently tells me to hold on to his fin. I have the key and the bowl in my other hand and I tell him (again, silently) that I don't know how to keep everything with us in the water if I have only one hand to use. He says press the key against your heart and I do. The key "adheres" to my body - as though there is a spot specifically "key case" sized there. I am amazed. The dolphin has laughing eyes. He enjoys my pleasure at this discovery. I cup the bowl over the key and hold it close in the crook of my arm. With my left arm wrapped across my body, I hold on to the dolphin with my right hand. He says I am not hurting him. He is swimming us along - pleasantly, purposefully. I become smaller, or he becomes larger, I do not know which, as we approach a wall which seems to rise out of the water. As he slows down, my legs and feet sink down and I feel a solid surface under them. It feels like rock but there is a suction type thing also, like when you stand in sand along the shore. My feet feel "hugged" as I climb the wide shelf-like risers out of the water.
The wall is pearl like - white, seamless, but different from a pearl in that it does not have a solid edge - it is opaque - it looks like - I can't find the words exactly. It's solid because of its ... like water from way up high is "solid" if you enter it "wrong". This wall is "veil-like" - curtain like - I walk right into it! Exactly like entering the water! Those rainbow threads are moving everywhere in here - they are swirling together like DNA helix - double helix - sometimes they look like flowers - sometimes they look like dancing threads. My bowl is changing! It is humming like the reeds! It is becoming GOLD. My tears of joy, old sadnesses, I thought joy, but it started as joy and amazement, but now it feels like every hurt, broken, ugly part, memory, deed - it feels like I am becoming "clean" as tears flow out of me in the veil/wall. My bowl is filling up with the tears of me. The gold is rising with the tear line! My joy increases as the tears leave my body. I sense that there was pain and grief where goodness is seeping in to fill. I feel sad for myself even as I forget sadness - it is like lotion on very dry skin - you didn't know it was dry until the lotion, then you realize how bad it felt because of how good it now feels.
All I can see is light.
I am "on the other side" of the "wall". I hold my golden bowl in both hands as an offering.
Ancient Chinese Thought Experiment - link
HT American Digest >The Landscape Game <
You can only play The Landscape Game once in your life. Once you know the questions and the interpretations any chance of replying honestly and openly is gone. It is one of those things that, if you know the "solution," makes any further revelation impossible. "The Landscape Game" is true once and once only.
I don't really know the provenance and the origins of "The Landscape Game" with any certainty. I can only repeat here what I was told when it was first given to me. It sounds a bit pat and I'm sure others will know better where it came from, or even the other names by which the game is known. But it is very much a part of the oral tradition, so all I can do is pass along what I know.
"The Landscape Game" is a variation of an ancient Chinese "thought experiment," or means of self-examination and revelation. It is thought to predate the I-Ching ( +/- 2700 BC ), perhaps as a precursor, but nobody is sure exactly when it came into being. It is seldom written down, but is instead passed from person to person across the generations. Those with whom it is played take it and play it with others. And so it goes on.
The game consists of ten questions which are always asked in the same order.
The one being asked the questions should think calmly about the answers to each and respond in a detailed manner giving the first clear thought that enters his or her mind. These answers can be written down or simply remembered by those playing the game.
Each question must be answered before the next question is given. There is, however, no clock used in "The Landscape Game" so it can be played across hours, days, weeks, etc.
The only rule is that the person being asked the questions must never have been asked the questions before. In this, the questioner relies on the honesty of the person receiving the questions.
Follow the link for the Ten questions, also the "interpretations/what it all means".
Wednesday, October 26, 2016
that is a paint brush, and a vacuum cleaner's hand held hose, and a very nice folding chair which was encrusted in sand, some of it wet
that sand from the beach camping trip which came home in my car
is a problem
I put leftover M&Ms in my daughter's lunch bag
that evening she told me that they were dusted with sand
I wasn't on that beach trip but I learned something
all that sand on all that stuff
I thought I wanted to live at the beach when we returned to Texas.
We didn't chose that because the schools didn't seem right for our youngest
(and I will admit without bias, seriously brilliant)
child.
I thought - maybe later.
I think the beach is better for visiting.
I remembered, I remembered as I was detailing the car
(because I am so detail oriented)
that my dad would put everything from the beach in the back of his truck and run it through the carwash at the beach before we started back home, and again later.
I thought it was pretty "redneck".
Now I realize that my dad was ... my dad was great ...
and he must have know a thing or two about sand.
Beach sand has been on the countertops in my kitchen this week.
I have been vacuuming sand out of my clothes dryer!
I don't want to live at the beach.
I thought I did.
(and Sammy would hate it there)
I was thinking about how safe it is to let God "help" with life decisions.
This picture is to remind me of my surprise.
As I worked with brush and vacuum getting that chair "sand free"
I was thinking about how beautifully crafted it is.
I thought it cost more than a folding chair should cost when I saw the tag on it
up at the Bass Pro Shop (gosh those places are full of stuff)
I looked at the tag before I looked in to my husband's eyes,
after I saw the look on his face as he sat in the chair I realized that we needed one
maybe two.
As I cleaned the chair, I thought,
"What the heck, American made may come at a premium these days."
And I remembered the American flag that my dad always looked for before making a purchase.
I smiled thinking of the flag and my dad.
Guess what -
MADE IN CHINA
.
This was dinner on Tuesday evening.
Chicken - cooked "French"style (whatever that means)
included fresh peaches (yeah in October go figure),
cumin, cayenne, shaved garlic and red onions
(and other ingredients - I wasn't paying close attention)
Sweet potato chips, the base of some pretty fancy and wildly delicious "nachos"
(that green stuff is parsley which was flash fried and surprisingly yum)
the baked Brie with peach preserves is a favorite
My oldest son cooked for us (V and I)
My husband left early Tuesday and will be away for several days on business,
he missed the feast.
One paired a cocktail concocted with
St. Germain, creme de Violette, champagne, and lime juice
I think he said it's called a stormy morning -
I"ll google it.
1 1⁄2 oz. Rathman créme de violette
1 1⁄2 oz. St. Germain elderflower liqueur
1 oz. fresh lime juice
4 oz. Champagne
Lime wedges to garnish
It was very pretty and even though I'm not much of a champagne drinker
I enjoyed the cocktail.
I especially liked hearing the cork pop and seeing him smile.
It felt like a celebration.
It's looking like all my kids, except Three, who is in Denver, will be home for Christmas this year.
I can already feel the joy of that.
The other thing I just found out and - not sure how I feel about it yet - thinking about it:
My kids have discussed and apparently are in agreement that:
I should "make" my husband go to the doctor for a check up.
One told me about it.
I said, "How will I make him go to the doctor?"
I mean, I really wonder how one makes a grown man do something that he doesn't want to do.
It's basically not my personality either - to make ...
I mentioned that to my son, the spokesman,
(Five kids is a lot sometimes, btw)
he said, Mom, you've got to do it.
Hmmm, yes, eyebrows raised (mine).
Everybody knows I worry about my husband's aversion to and lack of medical attention.
Everybody knows that after losing my little brother it's been an even heavier burden for me.
We married in the very early 80's.
I think he's gone to the quackshack type doctor's office twice during that time.
Both times for poison ivy.
(He has had poison ivy so bad that it covered my back via hugs!)
Both times his arms were super swollen and I said it's going to spread to your bloodstream
even though I really don't know if that is possible.
I have "broached" the topic.
Actually have begun to look around on the internet for "ways" to handle this sort of thing and you know what? Lot's of men don't go in for their checkups! Lot's of wives share my unnecessary sadness and concerns about this sort of thing!
So far no joy on advice on how to facilitate responsible behavior.
My dad died when he was 45.
His identical twin wasn't as fortunate,
he lived paralyzed on his left side and almost entirely unable to speak for several years after his second heart event. It was - devastating. Tommy might have know about his cancer before it was stage four ... .
It's hard on the family to see someone so vibrant disappear by degree.
I understand why my kids want me to "do something", I just really am at a loss for what to do -
When it's easy to get a check up it just doesn't make sense to me why he wouldn't.
He's very interested in me seeing to my routine checkups.
I had lunch with a new friend last week. Her husband is several years older than she and has finally acquiesced to seeing a doctor. This was her conversation, I didn't introduce the topic.
She said something like, by choosing not to see about preventative care he is choosing what my life (as his caregiver) will look like. He is making choices about my future without my input.
I nodded sadly (preaching' to the choir girlfriend I thought).
As I look back over the text conversation I can see that I don't know how to handle this.
"Not nagging" grates on me. My mom was so domineering with all of us that I have tended, by both nature and choice, not to try to manipulate my people - and they all know to push that button to get me to back away from unpleasantness. I mean - even the guilting to get me to "make" my husband do something makes my teeth clinch ... I'm doing that thing I do ... worrying my tongue on the roof of my mouth as I fret about this.
Maybe it is my responsibility to get him to the doctor.
Monday, October 24, 2016
Friday, October 21, 2016
walking with the wind
it's easy to breathe out here near the tall grasses
in it's time, this field is brimming with wild flowers of every color
I like it today
just grass evidencing the wind
He fumbles at your Soul As Players at the Keys Before they drop full Music on— He stuns you by degrees— Prepares your brittle Nature For the Ethereal Blow By fainter Hammers—further heard— Then nearer—Then so slow Your Breath has time to straighten— Your Brain—to bubble Cool— Deals—One—imperial—Thunderbolt— That scalps your naked Soul— When Winds take Forests in the Paws— The Universe—is still—
Emily Dickinson
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
Heart and Sole
this came in early today
that's my kid -
he is a man really, but I can see the baby he was, the toddler he was, the teenager he became
... you get it -
and I can see my brothers and my dad when I see him
- every time -
he looks like the people I grew up with
including him -
I was late 20's when he was born
and I say even though I thought I would "raise" my children -
they actually raised me.
~love~
this picture is a huge blessing
it captures the past
the present
and a possible future
it looks like the life I've known best,
I've been fortunate.
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| Sole lime lemon juice from both minus the slices 2 cloves garlic shaved yellow and orange bell pepper sliced red onion capers olive oil to coat baking dish butter (4 TBSP) dill salt bake 350 for about 15 minutes baked for dinner tonight |
Monday, October 17, 2016
stuff I see around here -
Yesterday I saw a sign in the window of a nail salon (if it is okay to call the business a nail salon...). It read:
NO PETS ALLOWED.
In my tiny part of the world I've been noticing "pets" with monogramed vests on - which announce them as "service animals".
I do like having Sammy nearby.
Not everyone shares in my enthusiasm for a dog with the size and blocking skills of an NFL running back. The very fact that I could insist on his presence with me at all times in all places (including the bathroom of our choice presumably) is ... ludicrous. "I want so suck it up" seems to be the new norm in society.
Not everyone shares in my enthusiasm for a dog with the size and blocking skills of an NFL running back. The very fact that I could insist on his presence with me at all times in all places (including the bathroom of our choice presumably) is ... ludicrous. "I want so suck it up" seems to be the new norm in society.
Contending that his statement that "there's nothing going on between us" had been truthful because he had no ongoing relationship with Lewinsky at the time he was questioned, Clinton said, "It depends upon what the meaning of the word 'is' is. ... If it means there is none, that was a completely true statement".
As I've been thinking about this type of personal entitlement/PC "stuff" I've been trying to think of where I think the road forked. It seems to me that it might have been around the time that our President aptly demonstrated that commonly held "meanings" can easily become meaningless in the pursuit of personal gratification.
Ms. Obama is shaken to the core by Trump's lewd words/behaviors, but has no problem (?) with raw mouthed/minded rappers representing up in the White House.
I am resisting the temptation to goole some of their lyrics - some things better left unheard.
I'm (pretty) sure that is just a joke,
Actually we are still trying to work out acceptable wording ... I believe "winter holiday" is currently on the table with some finding offense in the holy inference.
Our collective pursuit of PC has filled every store (indeed most minds) with gaudy baubles!
I despair for our Country's future.
 |
photo snapped somewhere in Texas and shared on social media |
Sunday, October 16, 2016
I've been busy these past several days getting yummy food ready for the trip my husband and eldest son have been planning. I didn't send these peanut butter cookies with them (I sent oatmeal/walnut/white chocolate) but I want to note something that these recalled. Some of them, an entire sheet, were just a bit burnt. I remembered fretting about a sheet full of burnt cookies that I cooked while still a very young woman. My dad came in to the kitchen, picked up a too brown peanut butter cookie and said, "My favorite! Exactly how my momma made them!" He sounded really happy about those toasty cookies and I never could read a fib in his sparkling blue eyes! Maybe he really liked 'em. His attitude definitely helped me feel better about my efforts!
One has those same laughing eyes ... sometimes serious ... always impossible to read.
There goes my car and my big kayak ... and my Christmas present tent ... just kidding! I know they'll have a great time. I couldn't be happier about the trip for them.
Chicken kabobs (Precooked the chicken) and kielbasa "dogs" via PINTEREST (I hope they really do cook in their foil sacks!).
Those are quarry ponds - very pretty from the air.
L snapped this shot yesterday - we did the Austin AIA home tour and saw some very cool homes. I'm looking forward to a quiet week of walking my dog and making it to yoga classes!  |
| and they made it ... one of my very favorite places |
Friday, October 14, 2016
Tuesday, October 11, 2016
40 year HS reunion
We decided to get three rooms at the hotel and began making travel plans back several months ago.
Little did I know.
I was actually raised in Houston until my dad "semi" retired and moved our family to South Texas. Childhood memories include the constant background shrill of emergency vehicles and traffic snafus were a routine part of getting from point A to point B.
I thought I'd have this.
I volunteered to drive from the river house (up near Austin) directly to IAH to pick up an out of state friend. It's a three hour drive. That's what my map app says. I departed at 1:30 for a NLT 5:15 arrival. I love to drive. The scenery between here and there is always a joy to behold ... tunes on the stereo, I'm home, I'm finally home, the supporting thought which all other stimulus filters though ... I'd say it's a bit like rose colored glasses for the psyche ... road trip, friends, old hometown adventuring ... all good!
Then Houston.
You know you are "in" Houston because your car stops moving. When it does moves, it either creeps along with the needle bouncing around below 10mph or, and this is an important or, you are shooting along with one foot on the gas, the other on the brakes and colors on either side of you are a linear blur. Exit only and toll signs are meaningless as you fight for your very life. You are bobbing up and down in a high speed current of various vehicles (the fact that they are "with human" doesn't really dent ones awareness ... all that penetrates is HOT HEAVY METAL INBOUND). I went with the flow. With the exception of one minor construction encrusted reroute, I was able to maneuver within the guidance provided by the traffic guidance app. Hmmm, Never seen purple toll signs before ... hmmm, EZ tag ... ummm, I don't have an easy tag. Gosh it's frustrating. I really do prefer to follow "the rules" when I'm driving. It seems right to me (with the exception of an easily distracted heavy foot on an open road). Did you know that cop cars wait on the "after" side of a toll gate flash?
I did make it to the line which had collected around the airport terminals. Even though we were moving like glue I missed the entrance to "parking" and after working my way around for another pass I slid in to ask two hardhat guys how to/where to on the parking. Did you know that limousines have their very own circular lot conveniently located near a private elevator?
By sweet coincidence FOUR was coming in to the same airport at about the same time as my friend so I was able to see her, get a quick hug and give her a bag full of homemade cookies for her weekend fun.
gratuitous homecoming football game shot
high school friends - missing a few!
Debbie opted out of the reunion festivities but came by to treat me to lunch and a nice long drive around. Her husband has several thousands of acres along the border which he farms (right now mostly cane, jalapeños and bell peppers). I'm hoping to be back for harvest (maybe he'll let me drive one of the big green machines). I really do like to see the cane fields burning - it's sort of amazing. He said avocados have experienced a significant price jump (I've noticed it up here) because the cartel has taken control of the Mexican avocado crop. I've read an account of how "they" branched out into legitimate (legal) businesses during the later part of prohibition. He said they aren't going to be happy about marijuana becoming legal on this side of the border (as it is in Colorado and Washington State and maybe other places by now). Kinda interesting. This picture was taken "on the border" the mesquite trees to the left are in Mexico, to the right, a spillway (probably not the correct term, it's where the Rio Grande may wander) on the US side. I liked seeing the white dirt roads (caliche), thrown up a fair share of dust from those roads and it looks like white smoke flying out behind the truck. It's funny the things you enjoy remembering. They said next time I come down (I'll probably stay with them, they are family to me) we will go across - apparently he's not worried about border tensions. I like visiting in Matamoros.
We enjoyed seafood for lunch and the raw oysters were note worthy (best ever). The visit was too short as always.
Great fun to see so many of my old classmates. Of the 475+/- there were probably 150 in attending the dinner/dance. I wasn't able to recognize more than 15 people, but it felt great to share the evening with them. Can't remember when I've laughed so much, probably it was back in the 70s.
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making the run for the border ... |
40 year HS reunion
We decided to get three rooms at the hotel and began making travel plans back several months ago.
Little did I know.
I was actually raised in Houston until my dad "semi" retired and moved our family to South Texas. Childhood memories include the constant background shrill of emergency vehicles and traffic snafus were a routine part of getting from point A to point B.
I thought I'd have this.
I volunteered to drive from the river house (up near Austin) directly to IAH to pick up an out of state friend. It's a three hour drive. That's what my map app says. I departed at 1:30 for a NLT 5:15 arrival. I love to drive. The scenery between here and there is always a joy to behold ... tunes on the stereo, I'm home, I'm finally home, the supporting thought which all other stimulus filters though ... I'd say it's a bit like rose colored glasses for the psyche ... road trip, friends, old hometown adventuring ... all good!
Then Houston.
You know you are "in" Houston because your car stops moving. When it does moves, it either creeps along with the needle bouncing around below 10mph or, and this is an important or, you are shooting along with one foot on the gas, the other on the brakes and colors on either side of you are a linear blur. Exit only and toll signs are meaningless as you fight for your very life. You are bobbing up and down in a high speed current of various vehicles (the fact that they are "with human" doesn't really dent ones awareness ... all that penetrates is HOT HEAVY METAL INBOUND). I went with the flow. With the exception of one minor construction encrusted reroute, I was able to maneuver within the guidance provided by the traffic guidance app. Hmmm, Never seen purple toll signs before ... hmmm, EZ tag ... ummm, I don't have an easy tag. Gosh it's frustrating. I really do prefer to follow "the rules" when I'm driving. It seems right to me (with the exception of an easily distracted heavy foot on an open road). Did you know that cop cars wait on the "after" side of a toll gate flash?
I did make it to the line which had collected around the airport terminals. Even though we were moving like glue I missed the entrance to "parking" and after working my way around for another pass I slid in to ask two hardhat guys how to/where to on the parking. Did you know that limousines have their very own circular lot conveniently located near a private elevator?
By sweet coincidence FOUR was coming in to the same airport at about the same time as my friend so I was able to see her, get a quick hug and give her a bag full of homemade cookies for her weekend fun.
gratuitous homecoming football game shot
high school friends - missing a few!
Debbie opted out of the reunion festivities but came by to treat me to lunch and a nice long drive around. Her husband has several thousands of acres along the border which he farms (right now mostly cane, jalapeños and bell peppers). I'm hoping to be back for harvest (maybe he'll let me drive one of the big green machines). I really do like to see the cane fields burning - it's sort of amazing. He said avocados have experienced a significant price jump (I've noticed it up here) because the cartel has taken control of the Mexican avocado crop. I've read an account of how "they" branched out into legitimate (legal) businesses during the later part of prohibition. He said they aren't going to be happy about marijuana becoming legal on this side of the border (as it is in Colorado and Washington State and maybe other places by now). Kinda interesting. This picture was taken "on the border" the mesquite trees to the left are in Mexico, to the right, a spillway (probably not the correct term, it's where the Rio Grande may wander) on the US side. I liked seeing the white dirt roads (caliche), thrown up a fair share of dust from those roads and it looks like white smoke flying out behind the truck. It's funny the things you enjoy remembering. They said next time I come down (I'll probably stay with them, they are family to me) we will go across - apparently he's not worried about border tensions. I like visiting in Matamoros.
We enjoyed seafood for lunch and the raw oysters were note worthy (best ever). The visit was too short as always.
Great fun to see so many of my old classmates. Of the 475+/- there were probably 150 in attending the dinner/dance. I wasn't able to recognize more than 15 people, but it felt great to share the evening with them. Can't remember when I've laughed so much, probably it was back in the 70s.
|
| making the run for the border ... |
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