The stars aligned but we forgot coats & cameras ...

Sometimes the transformer -- that would be me -- needs some transformative rejuvenation. Sometimes she needs alone time. But other times she needs to renew the creative energy with laugh-your-ass-off girlfriend time amidst mountains and beer joints.

So a few weeks ago, the stars aligned and I was actually able to sneak away on a quickie trip to West Texas with two of my old, old, old best friends, Deb and Lisa. They're not really all that old. We've just been best friends since the olden days. One of us actually just turned 45, but I'm not saying who.

Why is this blog worthy? Because I am just floored and amazed and blessed to have such creative and amazing friends. Does your average girl has such talented friends? It has nothing to do with me. I'm just fortunate. Anyway, more about that later. This is a tale about weather and mountains and old friends. You know, the usual.

Leaving Fort Stockton, we could see the windstorm/cold front in the distance and realized we forgot heavy coats. But it looked a pretty long way off. There is nothing wrong with this sentence. It's perfectly normal to say "a pretty long way off."

Here's Deb, the creator of a lavender body care line, getting gas in Fort Stockton, looking just a little bit too much like Cousin It. We were experiencing the cold front hitting first-hand. Then we realized we forgot our fancy cameras so my handy iphone filled in.

You know how the stars aligned and these three incredibly busy women were able to get away for a whole weekend? Well that's just part of it. Our other old, old, old, friend Dara actually met us at the White Buffalo Bar at the Gage on our first night there. Lisa had not seen Dara in probably 25 years. It really was just like old times, except the wine was much better!

Remember that I'm kind of obsessed with mountains? Well, this little pointy mountain is called Mitre Peak. There's a tragic Girl Scout camp at the base of it (tragic only because I'm not the Girl Scout type and I went there one year and they made you wash your own dishes. I thought I was on vacation. I mean seriously. And, they wanted me to sing. Please). One day, it would make me so happy if I could see lava oozing out the top of Mitre Peak. Doesn't it just look like that's bound to happen? Someday?

So what do three creative chicks in need of artistic renewal do on a free Saturday with no agenda? Ride around. And take pictures. We spent our entire youth doing it and it's really effective for solving the problems of the world and soaking up the energy of the beautiful West Texas landscape. When we called Dara to see if she wanted to go with us, she said she was perfectly happy in her warm house, out of the nasty cold wind. We understood. She gets to see these mountains every day.

When you're fortunate enough to be a lucky girl from West Texas, this is what you get used to seeing out your front windshield. This view struck me so powerfully. It was like a whack to my head that said: "Do you see this? Do you realize how blessed you are?" I got it. I get it.

But you know, in between beautiful mountains, there's a town here and there. And as you might imagine, if you're on a drive around the countryside, you might happen upon a bar. This one is in Marfa. It's called Padre's and it's located in the old funeral home. I don't know the address but it's on the south side of the railroad tracks, right near downtown. You can find it, real easy.

Here are my creative friends, who are also kinda gorgeous, bellied up to the bar. Really, their bellies weren't even close to the bar because they don't even have bellies. What's significant here is I love the chandeliers: the juxtaposition of the dark, edgy bar-ness, with the luxury of the chandeliers bringing light to the darkness. After gazing upon the cactus painting, I decided I'd better get busy painting because I could so paint that. Lisa cautioned she thought it was painted by somebody famous, as a way of telling me maybe I shouldn't say that out loud. Whatever.

Here's the entry area leading to the restrooms ... old velvet paintings paired with crystal.

I will be impressed with your bathroom if you've got a beautiful chandelier for lighting, and even more if you pair it with old-school floor tile. Love it!

While in Marfa, we decided we'd better go stop in at Mando's and determine whether their food is as good as it was back in the day. We were not even close to being hungry, but it was good enough to entice my gluten-free self to eat a flour tortilla. Pretty decent, and the green sauce was as good as it used to be.

Lisa (who's kind of an amazing photographer of famous people), spied this interesting vignette out the window of Mando's. She told me to take a picture with my iphone because she left her camera in the car and didn't want to go to the trouble of getting it out. Ok ....

Then, on the way back to Alpine, I made Lisa pull over so I could take a picture of this sign at Paisano Baptist Encampment. Such a beautiful scripture, but I like the NIV version better.

I lift my eyes up to the hills -- where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth. -- Psalm 121:1-2

I needed rejuvenation, and God's "help" came in the form of some time with my girlfriends, in my own personal heaven. Pay attention: Your help might come from a really sweet snuggle with a wiggly five-year-old. Or, a suggestion from a friend, that's really hard to hear. Help is out there: in the mountains, in the sky, in your friends, in the little things that become big things. We found it in all the energy of the universe, in hellish weather that included wind, hail, rain, and God's promise of a rainbow over Iron Mountain.

It doesn't have to be elaborate, or expensive. Sometimes you need to get away and see things from a different perspective, and that's when you might just get the "help" you need to grow and develop and renew yourself.

A death grip on my basket

I said when MY kids started kindergarten I wouldn't freak out. Weepy mothers are so cliche'. I dropped my basket when they turned one, but only because I realized I had been a zombie for an entire year. It was all about me, not related to the fact that they were getting older and growing up too fast. Since then, they keep getting older, and I've only had a few scattered times when I was creeping toward a basket-dropping wipeout. Luckily, I've been able to recognize it and head it off at the pass by spending some reflective time alone, out of the fray that is our normal, everyday world.

We went to West Texas. We know the way, and we can enjoy mostly free accommodations. It was the natural choice. And, there's always more to see.

Last week, I took some time with one of my bestest friends ever, the one who gave me the verbage "dropped my basket" in the first place, and my other favorite person in the world, my oldest daughter. (Hint: everybody is my favorite. If I'm talking to you, you're my favorite. Each one of my daughters is the most beautiful girl in the world, depending on who's in my lap). Anyway, we took the plunge to take some time away, at the most inopportune time, and with not a lot of funds to fund the time. The intention was to take some time away, spend some time together, see something new, and restore our creative energy. I have therefore not dropped my basket ... yet.

My oldest daughter, who is 14, actually had a good time with a couple of old broads who can be pretty silly and who really like to share their wisdom, according to us, such that it is. She did not jump out of the car, she saw some new things, she did not complain, and she actually started reading a book. Mission accomplished!

My daughter is the master of self-portraits. Notice: she's smiling!

I realized that the funny thing about time is: you have to take it. Steal it. Be really really greedy with it. You'll never get it back. It will never be a better time.

We went to two baseball games. Go Big Bend Cowboys!

Then, it was back to the real world. A world in which my husband works in the mortgage indusry and my painted groove is dependent upon construction and remodeling and extravagant purchases. These are challenging times. But seriously all you can do is get up everyday and go do what it is that you do really well and be fair to people. So far that been a very effective policy. The days go by and all is basically well. It also could be so much worse.

So the moral of the story is, despite all of this, I have a whacky sense of peace. All the trials and tribulations make my sweet little babies going to school (and our nanny who I love like one of my own going her own way, too), seem manageable. A stressful distraction. Diversion? I have faith it's all good. Apparently, this is what faith is all about. It's easy to have faith when life is gravy.

You won't find any gravy around here, but we have lots of love and faith. Oh my gosh, but there's so much freedom in that -- if you can get past the fact that current circumstances are kind of scary and not real luxurious. So I'm smiling, teeth-gritted, with a death grip on my basket.

Thursday was my drop-dead date to deliver some cabinet doors I was painting for my friend Wendy. She started out as my client at least eight years ago, but we soon realized that we had to be friends. We had too many issues in common, apparently. Wendy and her husband own a nursing home in Seguin. Let me rephrase that. It is Nesbit Living & Recovery Center.

The reason I'm being asked to paint stuff for her nursing home is because Nesbit LRC is in the midst of a huge renovation that I must say has actually impressed me. And I'm a tough customer because I've had an aversion to nursing homes going waaaay back. Am I alone in this? By this point I'm sure you're wondering where is she going with this rambling blog (or perhaps you're used to it). On Thursday I decided it would be smart to deliver the doors, have them installed on the entertainment cabinet, and then put the final antiquing stain on them while they were hanging. Much easier for me, and much less likely that I would screw them up in transit.

Sounds like a pretty boring story, huh? Well, actually no. Wendy and I decided to go to lunch first. This required me to dress presentably for the first time in weeks, so I wore my trusty uniform CAbi skirt in a jungle print. For my top I wore a faded, brown Old Navy t-shirt, thinking it wouldn't be any big deal if I got stain on it. So I'm walking down the hallway to the Recreation Room where my cabinet was. I zipped by a poor older resident once or twice, walking fast and erratic like I alwasy do. All the while this poor little lady (or so I would assume, not knowing) is oonching herself down the hallway in her wheel chair because, heck, she doesn't have anything better to do. And I SWEAR TO YOU she mumbled under her breath that my skirt was TOO SHORT!

Except you know how older women never mumbled anything. You can always hear it just fine. I have to admit, it is too short. I mean really, I am almost 44. My grandmother would have said the same thing. It was hilarious. And I smiled. It made me think of my Mama.

Ok, as if that's not enough to have made my day, that's only the first thing. I started staining and antiquing and this precious woman came in for what I learned were scheduled domino games. She watched me for a long time and then walked over to me. "This is your calling," she said, as a statement of fact. Wow! I immediately recognized her as a messenger. "Yes, ma'am," I said. "It is. And it doesn't even feel like work." She just smiled, knowingly, and went to find her seat.

Another lady was sitting at a domino table, just waiting for some other players to come join her. She told me she was a pretty fierce player. I asked her if she takes all their money. She said "oh they don't let me have any money." I thought that was too bad. She would probably be able to really supplement her Social Security income if they'd let her gamble every now and again.

So I kept on and the games got going. The entire room filled up. Two ladies, one of which was a little combative, got a little testy, and was told she'd have to leave. It reminded me of someone who got kicked out of a bar one time in Mexico. I wondered if I'll get kicked out of the domino games when I'm an old lady.

All the while, I was pondering that maybe getting old and going to the nursing home is only the worst thing that can happen to you if that's what you think is the worst thing that can happen to you. Like every other aspect of life, it's all how you look at it. I got to thinking about my grandmother, who was a social butterfly and wasn't ever overjoyed to be a housewife way out on a farm in the country. We thought she lived in paradise and led the perfect life, but I think she found it unglamorous and lonely. She loved to go to town, shop, and go with her friend Bonnie for a "cup of coffee and piece of pie." I think she might have liked the nursing home if she had lived long enough to go there.

Well if that wasn't enough, then a group of kids from Vacation Bible School at Faith Lutheran Church came in to sing some songs about God. I was thinking: "what more can happen to make this a wonderful day?" And I had been hoping to sneak in, do my thing, and get out of there as fast as possible. Ha!

Back to what Wendy and her husband David are doing at Nesbit LRC. This is one of the room numbers. Wendy has really gone above and beyond to make it homey and beautiful, transforming what had been institutional and sterile in 1990s pinks and mauves. If a nursing home can look more like a resort, this one is well on its way, with warm, earthy colors and beautiful artwork. All I'm saying is if I have to go one day, just take me there. But I may just have to sneak in some money for the domino and card games...

Diamondbacks or Decor ... take your pick

Last week I could barely contain myself because we had plans to visit friends who live on a ranch in the center of Texas and take the kids to the Diamondback Jubilee in Lometa. I realize generally rattlesnakes and jubilees don't really go together, not nearly as well as rattlesnakes and shotguns. Just know visiting the Joneses makes anything fun. And, to be truthful, seeing all those snakes rounded up and in big wooden boxes is kind of exciting. Besides, the fewer rattlers rattling around ready to bite my kids is a good endeavor I can support.


Besides just being blessed to be in the company of the Joneses for an entire weekend, we got to see their beautiful new house. I knew it would be neat, because Maggy is a really interesting person with a lot of style, but I wasn't expecting it to be this nice, or daring.



This is the formal living room that you see when you come in the front entryway. The formal dining area is to the right. There are a few touches still to be completed, such as logs in the fireplace, and maybe a nice rug.

I especially like the detail on the marble flooring. Some details are not quite complete, such as the gas logs for the fireplace, and a rug. My friend has so carefully put her home together and just to have it finished to this extent with three kids and her responsibilities on the ranch and for their businesses ... I don't know how she does it. When I asked about a table I especially liked in the more informal living room near the kitchen, Maggy replied, "oh, I found that in a barn," and then explained their home is just a big collection of pieces they've gotten from family and here and there through the years. Did I mention she's gracious and lovely, and not at all pretentious? She really does remind me of several lovely ranch women who retained all their gracious womanly charms. It's true that you can come from the country and not be a hayseed.


Here's another look at the formal living area. I especially liked the gray risers on the stairs.


A closeup of the flooring in the formal living area. No wonder this house took 21 months to build.


Maggy has one daughter, Marla. Her room is painted a dark, dusty pink. It actually looks more Pepto in this picture than it does in real life.

I wonder if Marla puts her bed back together this nicely every morning before school...? My guess is not. If my daughter had that many pillows I would be sure to break a hip tripping over them, on the floor, in her room.

This window seat was a nice touch. I loved how the trim is this dark putty gray, almost mushroom, color throughout. In this picture, you can just barely see the crown moulding as well. The color combination actually matures the pink. Had the trim been white ... the effect would have been so much more cutesy.

What's so awful is these are not even my most favorite parts of their home. My little impish angels snagged my camera and took picture after picture of themselves, their nostrils, the kids playing upstairs, everything -- and wore down the battery in my camera before I realized what was happening. So I guess now I'll have to invite myself back just so I can take more pictures.

As a sneak peek, however, let me just tell you this: the guest bath had the most interesting, almost tangerine- and cantaloupe-colored onyx tile as a vanity backsplash and inlaid in the travertine floor and shower surround. I had never seen anything in that color range and I fell in love with it. The walls were a cantaloupe color. It was awesome. Sounds odd and interesting, but trust me it was beautiful and peaceful, and very subdued in a colorful way.

Then, in her kitchen, she had this beautiful granite in a brown and cream combination atop cream-colored cabinetry that was very lightly antiqued. And the whole house was trimmed out with above-average crown moulding and baseboards. Maggy totally paid attention to the details. All the beds had great linens and exceptional pillows. It's a wonder they got rid of me on Sunday!


OK, now that I've told you all that about design & decorating, etc., back to the Diamondback Jubilee, which actually just celebrated its 39th year. Yes, for 39 years they've been rounding up rattlesnakes around Lometa. And apparently they need to given all the snake stories I heard over lunch. This year's Jubilee was miserable: Saturday morning it was about 40 degrees and the wind was blowing about 30 mph. See? Look at Maggy's hair. She's holding my daughter Caroline for warmth. Caroline isn't even looking at the rattlesnakes because she's too cold!

Even Mary can't give me a glamour girl pose. Also, we live in Texas and are generally unprepared for coldness.

Here's Catherine looking down into a big box of snakes. Her hair is a fright as well. Her jacket is also inadequate.

And these are the snakes. See, these Jubilee people are really doing a good deed, getting these snakes off the streets, or the pasture, whatever. Apparently they milk them for their venom and then also get their skins and their meat. Blek. They say they didn't have an exceptional roundup this year because it got so warm so early in the spring and the snakes left their dens before the snake finders (or whatever they're called) could get there to catch them. That means more of them are out there, just slithering around.... sssssss .......

A glimpse into my inner turmoil and/or twisted idiocy

Anyone who's had the misfortune of being withing talking distance of me in the last few weeks knows my cloud job totally traumatized me. It was an awesome opportunity, really overwhelming, and just a big damn job.

This scissor lift saved my life

In preparation, I even took a class with Nicola Vigini to refresh and refine my skills, and make sure I did the job justice. And also, I needed to figure out the most efficient way to accomplish this job on a really tight schedule. Let's just say Nicola makes it look easy. It was waaaaay harder than I expected. Still, I finished the job and got paid. So why am I still freaking out about it? How many times can I use I in that paragraph for God's sake?

It did not turn out the way I imagined it in my mind. At least to me. The client was happy. The builder was practically sweeping me out the door and loading my truck for me. Now, everywhere I go there are clouds. You know, like in the sky. But that's not all: I see them on every TV show, pieces of junk mail, in the grocery store. They're everywhere, damn clouds. And I'll never get away from them. They're pretty much part of my atmosphere. Yours too, probably.

They didn't photograph exactly great either.

Being an artist is not all fun and games. You have a vision of what you want to accomplish, and sometimes you don't get it to turn out just the way it looked in your head. Sometimes the builder says you have to finish today so the lighting can be installed and the floor can be grouted. Stupid details like that. I would have farted around perfecting that damn entry way for another week. I might even have screwed it up somehow. But still, I wanted it to be perfect.


My smart friend Wendy says I'm just suffering from my own unreasonable expectations. I met the client's expectations, so get over it and move on. Easy for her to say. She's my friend that forced me to knit. She taught me to knit left handed, like her. I'm right handed. She knits all sorts of pretty scarfs and baby blankets. At our last Knit Night at Chiro Java, after I had been working on the same sofa throw for at least one and a half years, I tore out every stitch of it and rolled up all that fabulous baby alpaca yarn into balls. It was just too hideous.



In this case, there's really no arguing with me that this was one hideous throw. It's a pretty damn hideous picture of me, too, come to think of it. All the other knitters at the table were about to wet their pants laughing at me and my hideous creation.


So I guess the lesson I'm supposed to be working on has something to do with perfection. And until I figure out what the lesson is and conquer this obstacle, I will not be satisfied, dammit.

Pix from my creative field trip

Sometimes you just need to get out and see the world to get some inspiration, aka go shopping with your girlfriend(s). So that is what Wendy and I did yesterday. Here's a look at what tickled our fancies:

Our first stop was Architectural Antiques, 403 Dawson, on the near east side of San Antonio, where I spied these great old ceiling tiles. I am thinking of facing the skirt around the tub in my bathroom with these. The plain old white tile is rather boring.

Wendy was looking for some columns to use as decor pieces in the remodelling of their nursing home. Nestbit Living & Recovery Center in Seguin is going to be like no other nursing home I've ever seen:

This pair of columns were just the right height, and also still had what's left of their paint job. Architectural Antiques strips a lot of what they sell, but Wendy wanted the old crusty paint. She said she only needed one column but I was so uncomfortable with that idea. "You can't just buy one of them. What about the other one? You can't just leave it here," I reasoned. She bought them both. Women are just reasonable that way.

While Wendy was seriously shopping, I noticed I really liked the "patina" on this old door. If I was to use this as a linen closet or pantry door, I would leave it just the way it is.

My favorite thing about enormous old antique stores and warehouses like this are the surprises you'll find around every corner. This beauty below was hanging from the ceiling -- above the loading dock. Go figure.

Totally gorgeous and interesting. You won't see this quirky chandelier hanging over the breakfast nook in your local McMansion. Please note: they do not sell this in the Pottery Barn catalogue. I really, really wanted to take it home.

OK these were so cool and I'm sorry I don't know their official name. They were in the lighting area and so I know they are globes for some kind of hanging light fixture. They were fabulously gold on the outside and silver mercury glass-like on the inside. LOVE IT!

I could imagine myself building an entire house around this door. It was at least 8 feet tall.

If you have just the place for this cool old bank vault door from the old Jourdanton State Bank, it will only cost you $12,000. I'm betting for that price you would be furnished with the combination.

After spending around two hours in that big old warehouse, we got a good recommendation for lunch and found our way to Madhatter's in King William. They have an inspired menu of sandwiches and soups and teas and wines. It looks like the restaurant is located in two old houses joined but a glassed in connecting hallway. Rooms go this way and that and so it's easy to find a great place for conversation. It's also a cell-phone-free zone, the big sign tells you at the door.

When we were walking to our car after lunch, I spied this darling house with the good paint job:

You can't tell from the picture, but the wall color is a soft blue/green. The trim is a creamy antique white but much less white than it appears in this picture. And then those dark accents were a darker green that I wasn't crazy about but it was still very well-done.

We then visited some quirky second-hand shops in the Midtown area on Blanco Road north of downtown, but the salvage place we wanted to visit was closed. There were some interesting pieces suitable for transformation but in major need of new upholstery, right across the street from Casbeers. Next time we'll have to make the trip there again and then see what's going on over on Hildebrand. ...

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.

Life's a .......

Back in the day, we used to say, "life's a bitch. Then you die." I'm not quite so negative these days. I've matured, thank goodness.

These days, we have so much to be thankful for. We're well. We have electricity. My husband and I are putting some distance between ourselves and work and other looming obligations to rest and recharge this weekend. West Texas is calling me.

See what I mean? I'll be looking at this tomorrow night. A nice, neighborly goat may happen by to visit while I sit on my porch.

While life is so good for me, I just can't get thoughts of those less fortunate out of my mind. My best friend's Uncle Bo died this week in a plane crash in West Texas while surveying flooding on the Rio Grande from the air. The Texas Gulf Coast is in serious distress. My brother and his kids can't go home to Beaumont. The markets are a mess. Two very important people in my past life have really scary cancer. I wonder whether that beautiful Galveston beach house that Joni of Cote de Texas blogged about earlier this summer even exits anymore.

I can really see myself sitting in this chaise, reading a book. You know, in another life.

The really simple and realistic girl in me loved this house from the Joni's post. I could see myself lurking on this porch, incognito, watching tourists meander by. I wonder how it fared when Ike attacked?

We don't get to pick the trials that make us stronger and form us into really tough old ladies who retain their good manners, snazzy good looks and charm. I guess if there' s any lesson to learn, that's it.

OK, OK, enough already

Lavenderchick grew weary with my procrastination so I finally decided to rebel against my perfectionism and just take a few pictures of the bar I have been writing about for months now. This is the bar that makes my Modelo so happy.

Here is the top. All these images were cut out of a planner book Mr. Kevin gave me for my birthday about 10 years ago. And then my super new neighbor Lauren had a book of Mexican folk art and advertising images that she sacrificed for the projecto.

It was really fun and easy and so if you'd like to make one of these happy places to sit and solve the problems of the world, here's all you need:

1. Friend who is raising money for a vacation and wants to unload their ugly bar on you, "because I know you can do something cute with it."

2. Motivation to do something fabulous with ugly bar because you'll never hear the end of it from your husband and brother who had to help you move it. And really, it's destroying your chi just sitting around in your garage it's so ugly. See:

3. Smart and creative neighbor who is interested in helping you "create" in a steaming hot garage.

4. At least one bottle of red wine.

5. Maybe a few beers for when you get thirsty.

6. A chance bottle of Modge Podge you don't know why you have.

7. Scissors

8. Leftover paint in fun and funky colors.

9. Palm fronds you just happened to have trimmed off your palm trees that you can rescue from the compost pile. If you don't have any, call me. I have a little more trimming to do.

10. Staple gun, any do-it-yourselfer woman's best friend.

11. Great new lime green spray paint from Home Depot for bar stools. They've sure have come a long way with spray paint colors, havent' they?

12. Briwax or gel stain to age and/or "antique" it all. It needs to look like it's been salvaged from Francisco's Bar in Boquillas.

So there you go. That's the bar I've been raving about. We had such fun putting it together. And the sad part is we haven't had much time since to belly up to it. But we will.

My Modelo with lime will be so happy

Unfortunately, one thing I've never been called is a tease. In this case, however, I cannot help myself. You just have to see what my next door neighbor Lauren and I created in my sweltering garage yesterday. We certainly felt incredibly clever. I am so fortunate to have a new neighbor with a creative brain. The ideas were flying and the results are going to be delightful!

I don't have a picture of our creation yet because the masterpiece is not yet complete. Let's just say it has to do with outdoor living, Mexico, palm fronds, and lots of paint in turquoise and green. It's so fun and fabulous I can hardly stand it. I promise to share a picture just as soon as I can get it fully assembled.

Until then, consider me a horrible tease.

Viva Mexico! Viva Laredo!

It had been four years since we broke up, me and Laredo. When I owned McQueeney Market, I traveled to Laredo for inventory at least once a month. When I became pregnant with my little girls, Catherine & Caroline, I knew my days in retail were over and we closed McQueeney Market. It was the coolest store, only one year old, and it had such potential. Great location, crappy building. I loved it and hated it. I could go on and on, but let's just say the timing wasn't right and it was "best" that McQueeney Market fade away so I could focus my energies on more important things, like my twin girls.

Since I love Mexico, I love Laredo because they're pretty much the same. By now it must be common knowledge that there is much to my old life that I mourn. In my new life there is much to celebrate but it requires that a lot of me is sacrificed. Before we all reach for a Kleenex, let's just say me and Laredo have missed each other.

Wendy called on Tuesday and suggested we go to Laredo on Wednesday morning, early. We had been trying to plan a trip for months. This trip was a lot like whooping it up on a Sunday afternoon. It's just so much more fun than planning every detail of a Saturday night -- and being disappointed.

We started our shopping adventure at Vega's on San Bernardo and I snapped a few pictures before I noticed the sign that said no cameras are allowed. It seems pretty silly to me, so I even asked how was I supposed to share their fabulous wares with my friends and clients (not to mention the world, in my blog) if I couldn't snap a picture or two.

I loved these cool agaves crafted from tin.

This darling chair had soft cushions covered in an outdoor-safe fabric in a pretty lemony yellow/green. We loved them and they were on sale for only $149. While I was soon informed cameras were not allowed, I love Vega's so much that I'm not even going to hold it against them.

From there we ate some lunch which was average. We live near San Antonio, in Seguin, you know, so we pretty much know our Mexican. We wanted to stop at the Lazy Mex bar but it wasn't open. We thought the name was rather racist in tone and wondered what it would be like to have a bar named Lazy White Guy.

We then ventured on to other stores for iron and such. Here's a couple of sneak peaks at stuff I liked, that was a little above average Mexican import junk. Wendy spied this little rabbit right away and I wished that I could get one too, but I was the navigator, on a scouting mission, and otherwise lacking in funds for whimsical purchases.

When she also bought an armadillo and I had my eye on a javelina and an iron weenie dog, I told her we were in danger of becoming "old ladies with yard art."

I had not seen anything like this lantern/sconce anywhere and I loved it. It doesn't come wired but it could be done. Even if it was used only with a candle, it would add instant drama for almost nothing.

I think it's kind of cool that you could sit and spin yarns around the chimenea while the husband is grilling some salmon. I am a multi-tasker from way back.

At Alexander's, Wendy bought two large table bases. She's going them to support a handcrafted mesquite tabletop to seat 10. It's going to look awesome in her home and I can't wait for the dinner. The base below has the round top (for glass) and Wendy's doesn't. Also, Wendy didn't like the ball finials so she had them knocked off. If you knew her you would think that was funny.

Wendy is going to have me "do my thing" on these bases so they're not plain and rusty.

I love the simplicity of these small side tables. They do not scream "Mexico" to me. I am in the market for pots, and huge pots like these are available for next to nothing. Since Laredo and I have been in love, I haven't been able to spend money anywhere else.

We had the best day and it was an especially good field trip for me. Creativity was enhanced and it's always good to have a refresher course that reminds me just who I am and what blows my skirt up. I wondered again just how I could have veered off course for so long but the answer to that question is already known and all too clear. My husband asked me whether I should "revisit McQueeney Market" and I haven't been able to get the idea out of my head ever since. There's so much to contemplate. Potential locations, labor and the lack thereof. Whether it's a good idea or a tempting disaster. All I know is that if I do it again, I'll do it differently, with more planning and prayer. And that's certainly a good improvement over the old me.