Poor sheep, poor Piper, poor me ...

A look is worth a thousand words. What do I even need to say about this picture? Except that my niece is adorable. And her mother, the photographer, is a genius, or at least really really lucky to have captured this shot.

To answer the obvious: My niece is standing beside an oddly sheared sheep because (insert drum roll, please) ..... The mutton-bustin' is coming up at the Guadalupe County Fair & Rodeo, of course! And Piper and all her cousins are entered. Come on, really, it would be embarassing if they they took off out of the gate in their helmets and flak jackets, looking like little PBR bull riders, and fell off in two seconds. They need to make a decent showing. There's money or scholarships or maybe a savings bond at stake. Not to mention family pride. You can tell how well I have paid attention to the details, eh? Could this be any more redneck?

To get ready, Paw-Paw had to buy a sheep so they all could practice. I know, this really isn't what I had in mind for my precious, girly daughters. So I let loose a trial balloon to guage interest and they were totally excited. It stressed me out in more ways than one. I'll just leave it at that.

Laboring with love and lavender ...

I know I'm crazy, but I love long weekends like this, especially when we have family in and I spend the entire day cooking and cleaning up. It's so fun, and I'm not being facetious. Right now, The guys went to get a haircut, and somehow, my sister-in-law ended up taking three kids under five to Wal-Mart with her. She had volunteered to take her own, my nephew Pius, but then Catherine asked every so sweetly if she could go. When Caroline found out Pius was going, she could not be left alone...

And so I had to conjole a teenager to go with her just to help. Thank God Mar threw herself on the sword. And so here I am blogging, in silence. Carne guisada simmering on the stove. Beans in the crockpot. Mom on her way to help me hold it all together.

Yesterday, in preparation for the guests, we decided Bambi needed a spa treatment (aka bath). Don't say anything, but she was starting to stink.




Around here, we don't mess around. When someone needs a bath, we only use Hummingbird Farms Aromatherapy Lavender Body Wash No. 152, from Hummingbird Farms, of course, which you can find here. Maybe you've heard of it. :)

Really, we all love giving Bambi a bath, because then she smells so clean and fresh. But to be honest, she really isn't into it until she's all clean and fresh and wrapped up in a towel. See, here she's still looking pretty miserable. But Caroline and Caroline are thrilled with the progress. Also of note: See how their faces are so perfectly lit up, as in a studio, like I planned it. No, that's just the miracle of the sun coming through the window at exactly the right time.

Here, Caroline models the only bath care line our family will endorse.

Awaiting her air fluff, Bambi still resembles a drowned rat. But she's looking more perky.

And finally, she spent the rest of the day, lolling about ... all peaced out and smelling of lavender.

5 Things I Love Today

Ok I know today is Sunday, but this is a list of what really blows my skirt up:

1. Being organized, getting organized. Neatness. That's why I have been such a crazed maniac for the past week. There has been no neatness. I live with four other people who apparently are not interested in the same things as me. And my favorite person on earth just went her own way to find another job. sniff, sniff. Pass me a tissue.

2. Getting stuff done ... GSD. Nothing makes me happier than a lightbulb being put in the light in the pantry.

3. When my honey-do list becomes a priority. This is just plain sexy.

4. The disappearance of clutter. Over accessorization has begun to make me nuts. It is just so unnecessary if it doesn't mean anything to you. If it's something important from an interesting trip or makes your soul happy when you walk by it, great! If not, if it's just filling the space above your cabinets, it's going to make me insane.

5. The thought that tomorrow, Monday, August 24th, will find ALL my children locked safely away in school for the rest of the year. And while they're gone, I can continue to GSD ...

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.

The sweetest thing I've ever seen

Caroline & Catherine

Today I witnessed the sweetest thing I've ever seen. And the best part was I was able to immediately recognize it, and feel it and enjoy it, as the sweetest, most loving gesture anybody could ever see. It was one of those moments you just have to cross your hands across your chest over your heart and say "ahhhh."



That we ended up in church today was in itself a whole other story. I will spare you the hilarity of that for another day. Anyway, we sneaked into church late and sat in the back. We usually sit in the front, up on the right. I've been a right-hand-side-of-church-sitter my entire life. I learned last week that my brother is too. Of course. Toward the end of the service, my husband and I walked with our two little girls up to the altar rail and kneeled for communion. In our church, you kneel there at the altar and the priest comes by and gives you communion in your cupped hands, saying: "the body of Christ, the bread of heaven."

You take the body of Christ, bread of heaven, which is really a little tasteless wafer, and put it in your mouth. Then, along comes another guy (or gal) and they say something about the wine. I drink from the cup because I don't think God's going to let me get sick and die from drinking wine in a silver cup. Some people who are more squeamish dip their little bread of heaven into the cup. Now the one cool thing about Episcopal churches is that the wine is real. To me, grape juice and a cracker is just ridiculous. I'm already going out on a limb trying to think this is the body of Christ, the bread of heaven. Don't insult me with grape juice and a saltine.



The other cool thing about the Episcopal church is that kids who want to join the rest of the body of Christ by getting a little piece of the body of Christ can take communion whenever they want to take it. Second grade is not the magic age. You do not have to take a class and get a white dress, like we all did in Catholic church. Now, if the little kids are really young, and/or their parents have decided they shouldn't take the body of Christ yet, then the priest will give them a nice little blessing on their sweet little heads. Even the blessing is touching, especially if they really mean it, like our old priest Jay did.



Anyway, back to my story. As you might imagine, my little girls were not content getting a nice little blessing on their heads. They wanted to get a piece of the body of Christ and would holler as much, right up there at the altar. "Hey, why can't I have the body of Chriiiiiiisttttttt??" Caroline whined on a couple of occasions. So finally, to save myself the embarassment mostly, and also because I really didn't like the excuse that they weren't old enough to join the rest of the body of Christ in taking the body of Christ -- like second-class citizens or something, we relented and taught them how to hold their little hands out and say "Amen."



Today, things were a little off. A new, interim priest they didn't recognize was bringing the body of Christ, bread of heaven, so instead of putting her precious little hands up, cupped all cute together, Caroline just bowed her head. My guess was she did it more from shyness than anything else. The priest gave her a blessing on her sweet little head and then turned to Catherine.



Catherine, kneeling at the altar, in a very fancy dress and her curly hair pulled up in a high ponytail, held her little hands up. The priest placed the communion into her hands, saying "the body of Christ, the bread of heaven." Then, with her right hand, she picked up the bread of heaven and immediately, without a minute's delay, broke the little wafer in half and handed one piece to her sister.



Oh my gosh. My heart just melted! It was just the most loving, precious thing I had ever seen. I always hear people refer to "God moments," and this morning I most certainly experienced one. That kind of love ... it's amazing.

Hours later, it occurs to me (again) that we can learn a lot from little kids. You know, when we're not yelling at them to stop fighting or to eat their dinner or whatever else they do when they're being kids and we're being frazzled parents doing the best we can with what we have. Our job is only to be aware enough to find the lesson.

Sappy Salute to Kuhny ... Happy Father's Day

Tomorrow is Father's Day, and I couldn't think of anything better to blog about than the guy who loves me, supports me in this crazy painted groove of mine, and, most of all is my kids' father. Throughout my life, I can think of so many times I found myself standing in front of all the Father's Day cards and no card seemed to fit my particular father, or my particular husband for that matter. Then one day, I met the guy we call Kuhny, and he totally fit the bill, and the card. Buying Father's Day or anniversary cards for him is a snap.

So in lieu of a card, here's my sappy salute to my husband and the father of my girls. He certainly is a keeper.


He loves his Mama, which is always a good sign when selecting a man. I can't say I've always paid attention to such important details as family dynamics and how the father treats the mother and how the son feels about his mother. I generally used to look for things like chemistry, a nice backside, and other equally short-term attributes. But somehow this go-around, I got it right. He loves his mother, but not so much that he's a mama's boy. His father loves his mother -- you get the idea. His dad is kind, and he's kind. From the first day he met my daughter Mary, he liked her but not too much to be creepy. To this day, he still loves her through her teenager years, even though she doesn't quite know how to show him love back. She'll get it one day. I have faith.



Not only is he kind, but he is fun. The bonus is he is kind and fun, yet responsible and dependable. He likes good music, and for some reason likes me even when I look like a corpse in need of lipstick (like in this picture taken at a Ray Wylie Hubbard show). We met at a Gary Stewart concert. That says a lot, right there.


We got married in April 2001. A few years later, my doctor told me our chances of having kids the normal way were slim to none. As I bawled my head off after the doctor's appointment, trying to tell him the grim news via cell phone, he was very matter of fact: "we'll figure it out." A short year later, God helped the best doctors and nurses in the world help us create Catherine and Caroline. And that's when my husband really showed me the kind of man he is.

For him, his kids are not an imposition. He does not "babysit" his kids. When I feel the need to get away from the house and hang out with my girlfriends, he doesn't give me a minute's grief. We're in it together. It' so refreshing.

Oooh, and does he ever loves his girls! Here, he's dancing with Catherine at a Two Tons of Steel show at Gruene Hall.

And those girls love their Daddy. Here, he and Caroline walk to the car after my cousin's wedding. This is one of my favorite photos. Caroline has her Daddy's hand in one hand, and her puppy in their other.

He can light a chimenea like nobody's business. And, he humors me and loves West Texas too. He also gets attached to stuff. For example, he will not turn loose of this Bush/Cheney t-shirt from the 2004 election. I've implied it may disappear one day. "You better not even think about it," he has warned me.

He balances life with business. Throughout our entire dating and married life, he's been on this cell phone, helping people buy and refinance their dream homes. He really, seriously, cares about the mortgage business and helping his clients finance their dreams. One time back when he worked for Wells Fargo, there was a delay in closing a loan for a single, older female client. It wasn't even his fault, but I swear he actually helped move her stuff from a moving truck into a storage unit, and put her up in a hotel for the weekend. I thought he was crazy at the time. Now I can see how that kind of dedication to his clients has paid off.

He likes my crazy family and all its extensions. Here he is at The Oak, listening to a tall tale told by Jason Pence. Isn't he adorable?

Teaching Catherine to play Uno. Yes, I realize she's not wearing any clothes and it's January (the year is wrong on the date stamp). Did I mention he's understanding of idiosyncracies?

I don't know how many men are avid readers of my blog: I'd guess more of you are of the female persuasion. But just in case there's a stray male here and there, can I let you in on a secret? Being a stand-up husband and father is very attractive to a woman. It goes a long, long way toward creating a loving, happy wife who isn't resentful and bitchy. He's not some kind of wimp. He still drives me crazy and leaves his underwear in this strange little pile in one corner of the bathroom. But he also proves there are still good men out there, and men have the ability to be good men if they decide to be good men. It's a decision. And thank God he made it.

So Happy Fathers' Day Kuhny. We all are blessed to have you.

This is why I can barely move ... and I need your help!

Apparently I used my hip flexors in the making of this patio down by the water. I know this because any time I try to move in such a way that my hips are involved, pain shoots up and down and all around my body. I am bone tired.

But it was the best weekend. I worked in the yard almost the entire time, and let the house go to hell in a hand basket. It's a wreck, but our outdoor living space is coming along nicely. I've always preferred to be out in the yard than cooped up in the house. I'm seriously too lazy to limp to the bathtub.

We raked gravel back and forth and then positioned all these rocks. And then, to be really professional for the first time ever, I actually used a level to make sure it was all straight -- and level. So once I found just the right rock and put it into position, it wouldn't be level. So we had to flip it up, re-level the gravel to compensate and then check it again. And again, and then over again. Wish I would have used a level that time I was in a mud freakout after the first flood and we decided we could lay a stone sidewalk all by ourselves. It's still there and highly serviceable, but do be careful if arriving or departing in the dark or drunk, or in heels.

Did I mention I also carried most of all these rocks all by myself, especially after my husband had to move on to other parts of this project, like going to Home Depot and picking out boards. And then measuring and placing the boards on the new dock. You can see part of the new dock under construction in the picture above.

And then, we had enough gravel so I decided to lay some rock all around the base of the outdoor shower. That meant carting all the rocks I wanted to use across the yard and doing the whole process over again. But it was easier because I didn't use such big rocks. I did manage to moan and groan, and walk like an old woman, from one side of the yard to the other. A few times, I'd sit down to make the job easier and couldn't quite get back up.

Oh and I forgot this part: most of these rocks were once part of a walkway we put in four years ago so that Paige would have somewhere nice to walk down the aisle when she and Ruben got married in our yard, down by the water. It was a beautiful wedding. But the rocks turned out to be a hassle for our yardman to weed-eat and edge around. So that yardman, who just happens to be my husband, was all too happy to rip them out and help me move them down by the water. Some of these rocks were so big we had to really put on our German engineering hats and make us a homemade fulcrum with a board and a shovel.

Now imagine if you can, a firepit, with some comfy Adirondack chairs around it. I would love some other sort of chair, just because Adirondacks are the obvious choice, but I don't know what kind. Something cushy with a cushion would be great, but it would get dirty, and wet, and would probably blow into the river every time there was a storm. And I want them to be able to stay outside all the time, because I know myself and I wouldn't feel like traipsing them back and forth. Suggestions?

I don't exactly know what the firepit should look like yet, so I'm open to ideas on this as well. So far, my big idea is a bowl shaped pit, with some kind of custom design cut out along the top, to form a border. And then it potentially would sit in a low stand. Both these ideas will require a nice welder I don't yet know but will have to find.

To close, here's a picture of two of my helpers, Catherine and Bambi. Aren't they growing up to be big girls?

Passion & Photography: Delary Harborth

It can't all be about paint. Sometimes other media captures my fancy and I just have to share it with you. So today's subject is photography.


This particular story began a few years ago when my youngest brother, Shay, introduced us one Christmas Eve to an interesting and beautiful young woman named DJ. She was really hip and cool and played Pink songs for my daughter and nieces when they were still young and impressionable (now we learn things from them). My daughter Mary connected with her right away, so much so that she told me that if I was to die suddenly that she'd want to go live with CJ and Shay. I could understand that because DJ is full of that mother-hen nervous energy that Mary would recognize and feel comfortable with.

DJ has an intense amount of energy all bundled up in her body, so much so that when I am around her I feel that my hair is blowing back like I'm in a wind tunnel. Anyone who out-nervouses me is a force to be contended with, I say. I just love her and am so happy that she is realizing her dream, just like I am.

Getting back to the story, as you might imagine, she and my brother fell in love and got married. And all along the way through these last six or so years (maybe more), she has been transforming herself into an amazing photographer. You all know how dedicated I am to transformation, so that's why I decided I had to share her with you. First I must disclose I don't know much about photography. I only know it's good when I see it. But I am an expert in passion and big hearts and genuineness and that's what I think Delary (her real name) instills in every photograph. She's amazing, simply because she is seriously and genuinely interested in discovering the truth and beauty in every person.


She took this photo one day of some girl named Mary. Oh yeah... she's my daughter, looking a little disturbingly mature.




As a mother, I like this one a little more.

This was our Christmas picture for 2008. What's amazing here is how relaxed my girls are. Every personality is captured. The blonde one on the right is historically difficult and uncooperative at picture time. But look at her. Somehow DJ brought out Miss Personality.



In the picture below, DJ photographed Lizeth at my request, according to my ulterior motives. I think Lizeth is the most beautiful person. She is so loving and kind and peaceful, all qualities I admire immensely because I don't consider myself loving and kind and peaceful. Lizeth has cared for my girls for four years now, as if they were her own, without ever making me feel like less than a mother.




I wanted DJ to take Lizeth's picture so I could show Lizeth how beautiful she is. Somehow Lizeth didn't get the memo that she's beautiful. And this was my way of showing her how wrong she has been all these years.

DJ also captures ordinary, everyday occurrences because she's obsessed with photography, just like I'm obsessed with paint. She brings her fancy schmancy camera to every family get-together. And we are all so fortunate because of it. I will treasure these pictures forever. In the picture below, my two girls and my little niece Piper were swinging in their Paw Paw's porch swing.




They were captured, at that moment, so honest and happy. And so content to just be swinging, together.





This picture makes me all teary eyed now. Just imagine how I'll feel about this picture when Caroline is grown up and Paw Paw and his crazy place in the country are just memories. This photograph froze in time, what had been a whole lot of crazy, energetic motion. Caroline had been running up that little dirt pile and down, over and over, like a horse, because she pretends she's Spirit. She stopped, for just this moment, when DJ got her attention. And her four-year-old little self will never be just this way ever again. Lucky for me, I'll always have this picture.


DJ also is a big music fan, and her work reflects that love:






This couple is having such fun. Can't you just see it in their body language?

Dont' know the band, but I like the drummer...

Sometimes photographers capture personalities, when their mothers are hoping for more traditional shots. Often, I think these kinds of pictures turn out to be the best.

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.

I have been like a woman without a country, a cordless phone without a base.

A month or more ago, my old hand-me-down laptop died. It was helped along by a crazed, my-spacing 13-year-old and two manic monkey four-year-olds, at least according to the 13-year-old, who blamed it all on her younger sisters. Anyway, I was without a computer at home. I contemplated what kind of spiffy new laptop I would order for myself. My darling husband, ever loving and oh-so generous, sent up a trial balloon that he might get a new one for himself and give me his current, burned up laptop. You can imagine how well that idea went over, especially since it was his old broken-down laptop that had up and died on me in the first place. He slinked off to dream up other great ideas, tail tucked between his legs.

And then I didn't have a desk at home. I had moved my home office to the office, before I couldn't take working there anymore and fired myself. So you can imagine how productive I have been and it's been driving productive me crazy.

Tonight all that changed. I couldn't decide what kind of laptop to get so I just brought my computer from the office home. I brought a desk too. And then next week I'm going to go get all my note cards, postage, pens and files. My stuff. So I can be a person. A productive person with stuff.

And did I mention that my oh-so generous hubby did actually buy me a fancy fax/scanner/copy machine? It was new, and he just took it out of the box. My new plan is to learn how to scan.

At this point you must be wondering, what the heck is that hideous looking piece of furniture at the top of the blog. Well, it's the beginnings of the bar that Lauren and I transformed one Sunday afternoon in a manic episode. I've been promising to take pictures of the finished product and share them with the world, but I keep procrastinating because the vignette is not yet complete. I'm busy and I haven't had a desk. And a few other excuses I won't bore you with.

Have you ever seen such hideous pleather? Rest assured it's rotting away in a landfill right now.

It's a face only a mother could love

Meet Rooster. He's got a face only a mother could love. Bulging eyes, and shiny black hair the same color as his eyes. When he raises his ears he looks like the chupacabra. Oh, but do we love this little guy.

It all started with Caroline. She loves dogs and likes to plan parties in her mind. She loves to tell you about the party, the food she's planning and the guest list. Emma, Emily and Baby Caroline, plus Slick, Rusty and Chula are invited to every party and barbecue. If you didn't know these dogs you would think her little preschool friends have some pretty strange names. In April, Paige, Lauren and I took a collection of kids to the Fiesta Pooch Parade. I thought it would rock Caroline's world since she loves dogs so much. Nope. She was completely traumatized.

This little guy walking by the girls was sporting a mini sombrero.

Paige and I especially liked this family of real-life wiener dogs.

Catherine & Chloe weren't bothered at all by the endless parade.

Caroline, on the other hand, cried "I want a baby puppy, Momma, I want a baby puppy" for about an hour and a half, and part of the way home. Lauren advised me to "distract and redirect" but I couldn't figure out how to do it as the "baby puppies" just kept on coming.

That day, Caroline became determined she had to have a "brown chihuahua with a pink dress." I was happy because my most favorite dog ever was Weeni Banana, a chihuahua whose mother came tearing around the corner and bit my ankle when I went to pick her out. The most amazing thing about Weeni was that she was an extremely good judge of character and could eat sunflower seeds by cracking the shell, extracting the seed, and discarding the shells into a little pile on the car seat during long drives through West Texas. If Weeni ever growled at anyone, and showed her little teeth, they always turned out to be a real deadbeat loser. She did a lot of growling during those Odessa days.

Getting back to this story, when Rooster showed up black and without the pink dress, Caroline didn't give it a second thought. We work hard to steer clear of racism in our house, toward dogs or anybody else. Caroline still wants to get Rooster a pink dress, and Catherine seriously wanted to name him Princess. We delicately explained Princess was just not the name for the only other boy in the family besides Daddy.

When he eats all his dinner, Ryan says he looks like a pot-bellied pig.

As for my creative career, I promise to get busy and show you the ever-s0-clever project that really should have been an HGTV gone wrong episode. Have you ever wondered why the women on HGTV transforming an entire house with a $50 budget don't ever show their wine glasses? I guess that's why Lauren and I don't have our own show yet.

This little piggy went to the church nursery...

Sometimes I just have to blog about things that make me happy. And this picture definitely did the job. Catherine is my little piggy on the right and Caroline is smiling on the left, through the glass of the church nursery window.

I need frequent reminders to help me keep life in perspective. While some of my friends are battling serious illnesses, my family is healthy and happy and my little girls are having a blast just being almost four years old. It is as simple as that.

Will I drop my proverbial basket this year as their fourth birthday approaches like I did when they turned one, realizing it's been four years of chaos? I don't think so. I'm feeling on top of the hump. Life is good. And we have soooo much to be thankful for. Such as, this picture and the freedom and joy that allowed it.

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.