Peace & Love all over the place

There was peace and love just coming out our ears. Seriously. Yesterday, Thanksgiving, was a wonderful day. It could have gone horribly wrong, but it didn't. I was really happy.

First of all, I don't care how old you are, divorce in a family is going to screw things up. I'm sure there are some parents that need to be gotten rid of, but in my case, it's been terribly inconvenient for me and my siblings. Divorce fractures relationships, divides families at holidays, and otherwise just leaves somebody out in the cold, no matter what. Except for yesterday when our humble gathering included the following:

My biological mother. My biological father. My stepfather I call Dad. My sister from my Mom and Dad (Stepdad) who was adopted and is a Sioux Indian. Three half brothers, two of their wives and one new girlfriend (Miss Alaska). Two nieces from my brother's first marriage. Two nieces whose parents are still married and one cute little three-year-old nephew who was driving his harried mother crazy. We couldn't understand why, he seemed perfectly normal to us.

Then my husband, who was raised in a very normal, All-American home with two married parents had his Mom and Dad here, plus his 90-year-old grandmother, and a his uncle Wayne, who is blind. Oh, and then there were our kids: Mary, from my first marriage, and Catherine and Caroline from my current and last marriage.

While all this was going on I was texting with my former husband's current wife who I went to high school with about Mary going to visit them and the arrangements for that since he is very ill and not doing well at all. I had to keep making stops in between to say a prayer for the poor guy. We have a lot to be thankful for this year, starting with that he's even alive. We also have to be thankful for the fact that if the two of us were talking and texting, it's proof that God is alive and at work in our big old extended dysfunctional family.

So today my other brother Clay came to see Dad, who's visiting from Arizona, and brought his precious one-year-old little boy named Pius, and his other son, who is actually from his wife Heidi's first marriage. Does anyone have a headache?

Amazingly, everybody got along just fine. A good time was had by all. The best thing about it all is that all my parents were in the same place at the same time for the first time since our wedding. And I didn't feel stretched or fractured. I wasn't even stressed. What a blessing.

We were driving down South Alamo Street in San Antonio the other day when I noticed this grand house for the first time. It must be the new paint job that did it because my eyes had never beamed in on it before. Apparently it is a bed and breakfast, in the heart of the King William district. "Wait!" I shrieked. "Did you see that house?"








Ryan had not noticed it, because he doesn't care about paint colors and, to be fair, it was almost dark. "Oh my gosh!" I said. "That house color combination was fabulous. Maybe we need to paint the Marathon house like that," I continued in that rapid-fire, wheels turning a thousand miles an hour way that I do when I get all flitterbated about something exciting, like paint.



"I thought we had already decided what to paint the Marathon house," Ryan said. Poor thing, he thought this subject was behind him. What he doesn't realize is until it's painted, the decision is never final. And, really, that's what I love about paint. It's never permanent. It's always changeable. I wonder what that says about me, from a psychological standpoint?



Anyway, I need your help. Do you like it? Do you hate it? Here's another view of the house that cranked my head:

I just love the crisp white against the warm tan, and the black sets it all off so nicely. Is it too formal for the Marathon setting?

Here's a picture of the dingy outside of our humble home in Marathon. It really needs some help:

This is how it looked the day we went to do the inspection. The evaporative cooler is out of the window and it has a new tin roof. The storm screen doors are off. And there are a few plants trying to grow in the yard. But other than that, it's still aching for some curb appeal. A new porch is planned to jazz up the front entry, and a little overhang is going over the back door, but those will have to wait until people can qualify for home mortgages again. (Shameless plug: www.accessmortgageplanners.com.)

The former option for this quaint little West Texas diamond in the rough was Sherwin Williams Crater Gray, which Ryan loves. I love the color, too, It's a gray/green/bluey color and quite masculine and cool. We first saw it on a beautiful house in Castroville. The difference that gives me pause is the Castrovile house sits in the shade, surrounded by beautiful green trees. This house sits out in the arid plains, set against tan, dry desert mountains. I do not want it to stick out like a turd in a punch bowl, as someone really influential in my life named Bob used to say and probably still does.

So what do you think? If you're one of those sneaky people who reads this blog and doesn't comment, please break that trend today and tell me what you really think!

It's official: I am crazy

I told my husband today I couldn't decide what I wanted to do. Part of me wanted to have a big Thanksgiving dinner and invite all our mish-mash of family from all sides. It's so fun, and welcoming and fills us with peace and love.

Another part of me said that was crazy and we have no business inviting everyone over here for Thanksgiving: We should just go to someone else's house. Then, when we're sick of all the dysfunction and peace and love, we can just go home to our own dysfunction, peace and love.

And then there was another part of me that said I don't even want to be anywhere around so let's flee for the hills like we did last year. Last Thanksgiving was magical. We fled to West Texas and IT SNOWED!

So this year when I dared to bring it up, my darling husband declared I must be suffering from multiple personality disorder, or something. Later this afternoon we caved and decided to throw a big bash at our house. One of my brothers is hosting his new girlfriend we like to call Miss Alaska, and he needs somewhere respectable to bring her to introduce her to the family, after all.

Just like every holiday, everyone will offer to bring something. And then I'll fret that we'll run out of food, which we actually did one Easter. I was horrified, given that I come from a long line of cooks and eaters who take great pride in cooking delicious food in copious quantities. We strive to create the best dish everyone raves about on any given holiday. But in recent years, I have discovered not every family is like mine, which can be good and bad, depending on how you look at it.

In recent years, I swear I have eaten fake mashed potatoes on Christmas (Jesus would not be happy about this, I know) and one year at Easter, someone brought a dozen boiled eggs, undecorated, with some chips. I promptly made deviled eggs, in a feeble attempt to fill everybody up.

It occurs to me that not everybody views a holiday gathering like my family does. Average, normal people don't realize you need to cook 10 pounds of potatoes or 5 pounds of green beans even though you're only one person. They don't know you can't bring a two-person serving to a 30-person gathering, or one dish if you've got five, big-eating kids.

Then there was the year everybody brought their dishes stone-cold and were all vying for stove and microwave space while patient old people and kids sat around, glassy-eyed and starving. Good times. The next year we employed subtle suggestions to at least bring the food at room temperature or in a crock pot or warmer. My father-in-law, who is the most precious man ever, always arrives just in the nick of time, takes over the kitchen and makes gravy. I've learned to just glide on outside for pre-dinner glass of wine.

How can people look at the same issue and see it so completely differently? It's baffling. I've thought about this a lot in the past few months, during the past election, when millions of voters did not share my insightful view. How can I be so right and they're just so blatantly, blindly wrong ? And how can they think the same thing about me when I'm so obviously right?

And then there was the time when I lovingly interjected there would be 30 people at the Thanksgiving gathering. And the invitee replied "well the recipe makes a 9x13 pan." End of discussion.

All of it is just fascinating. And here we go again.

I miss my girls

I'm away from home again this week, being a rock star faux painter and missing my girls at home. This job entails texturing over old wallpaper, new base coat, and then two coats of Faux Effects' Lusterstone in Brown Suede and Champagne Mist in a master bath. The base coat is SW Nomadic Desert so it's all real neutral and peaceful and warm. And then there's a water closet upstairs that's going to get some new texture, a fix for the sheetrock and then some faux glazing over the top.

Before you think this all sounds real glamorous, let me stress my life on the road is far from fabulous. I don't set out to work all over the state, it just happened that I have some out-of-town assignments all jumbled up on top of each other. Last week I was out on a ranch in Dilley. This week it's Houston. I'm so tired I feel more like the traveling roofers that are sharing this less-than-glamorous Comfort Inn with me. Boy have I become spoiled. This hotel is just not doing it for me. I much prefer the Omni but their weekday rate is $359 "for business travelers." That rate must be for "business travelers" who aren't "in business" for themselves.

Anyway, I thought I would share some pictures of my gorgeous girls that I am missing so much. Here's a picture of Mary. She is 13 and loves taking pictures of herself. She's the light of my life on every day except those days when she's really living out that she's 13 and I'm whining that "she used to be the light of my life."

She can take some artsy photos, don't you think?

Here's a picture of Caroline. She's four years old. My sister-in-law Sallie took this picture at the Guadalupe County Fair & Rodeo when I was out of town retreating in West Texas. Notice the Flashdance, off-the-shoulder t-shirt she's wearing, along with her famous attitude. I did say I was out of town, so you can attribute this outfit to Daddy.

When I've been out of town for a few days, I even miss that attitude.

And finally, here's my little Catherine. These are older pictures, but they're my favorites because they totally "capture" her thoughtful side. I love her deep-thinking nature, and that she'll wear pearls and take her poodle to church.


Could our twins be any more different? Catherine is so girly girl. I took the picture below at her second birthday party. That's just about the time her hair really began to grow.

Everyone marvels over Caroline's blue eyes, but I think Catherine's are exceptional.

I took this picture below on the first day of dance this year. They just started their second year of Hermann Sons Dance and this year they love it. Don't they look like big girls?

This photo marks the first day Caroline agreed to let me put her hair up without a fight. I just love this picture because you can see that Catherine is so take-charge and has such a sassy walk.

I can't wait to get home tomorrow and snuggle them up.

You like me? You really like me.

Wow. I finally got some sort of blogger award. I really feel unworthy, seeing as how I haven't been able to blog much lately and when I do I need to be reminded to blog about what I'm supposed to be blogging about (thanks, Paige, for keeping me on task). I must say I can accept the Perfect Blend of Friendship Award much more easily than the BFF Gold Card. I'll tell you a little bit more about that later. But first, let me thank Lavenderchick for nominating me. My heart is so big (an inside joke related to something Lavenderchick herself said way back in about 1990. I think it was in Mexico and tequila was to blame. You know, as I recall. If I knew how to work my scanner, I would scan the picture of her saying it. The scary thing is I have the picture.)

Do you have the same friends since childhood?

Yes, thank God! What's funny is some of them have come and gone and we've done other things -- been single, married, divorced, single again, married, had kids and careers and cats and dogs -- but there is a comfortability (if that's a word) that I couldn't bear to lose. I find great comfort in the fact that Debi, Paige, Lisa, Dara and Kim know what I'm talking about without me having to explain it. They know the difference between a Hut Coke and a Sonic Coke. They know where my heart is even if what I am saying is outrageous. It's just easier. And, we generally find the same things funny and understand the background behind the rant.

Are your friends sounding boards?

What would we do without our girlfriends? Mine most certainly have stepped in to provide an auxiliary brain when I have been beyond thinking clearly. And they step in to pick up my basket when I drop it. Still, I must say my most frequent and dependable sounding board is my husband Ryan, who actually will patiently play along and answer when I annoyingly ask the question, "what should I do?"

What is your favorite activity to share with friends?

Talking, exploring, and pondering life with an occasional glass of wine or a good cup of coffee.

This is where I get to brag on my new friends. When you have so many old friends from the old days in West Texas, it's hard to imagine that new friends can match up. I have been proven wrong on this one and my new friends (you know who you are) have added to my life in ways I never could have figured.

OK, so more about the BFF Gold Card. This award doesn't appear to have any questions with it. I really must say I don't deserve this award because I haven't always been the best friend or person in the world, but my friend Deb is a great person to send it my way anyway because she's a loving, forgiving and overlooking friend. It must be because she's a middle child.