Gravel Roads of Texas

Have you ever driven down the gravel roads of Texas ?  You can truly see some of the beautiful back country.  You never really know where you might end up.  Last weekend we decided to take a drive in the Jeep and just cruise the back roads again.  Some of the cemeteries on those back roads are really pretty, peaceful and quiet.  Whole families end up there, back together again.  Well I hope they don't end up there, but their gravestones comment that they were once here and maybe a hint about their personality; like "beloved mother" or "faithful father", "hero" or "sister and friend".  Even though it's been dry as a bone most everywhere in Texas , these pastures down south are still green.  One we saw was laden with tall flowing green grass and huge beautiful big oak trees.  The kind you see with horses or cattle standing under them or one that someone had taken a picture of.  Truly it was a glorious site.  The cattle grazing in that pasture thought so too.  They were fat and lazy looking.  Many were just lying in the shade they were so full.  We saw lots of windmills and water troughs, old barns and tree swings.  There is a ton of oil drilling going on in that area and pipelines are being put in everywhere.  Lots of land has been cleared and ditches have been dug.  One day lots of oil and gas will be flowing under that country.  We saw where folks lived that we knew lived in "the boon docks" but never really knew where that was.  Names on mail boxes gave us some clues.  You can't travel that country without seeing a few jack rabbits, wild hogs and an armadillo or two.  They just make that country what it is.  We headed back to the ranch with the sun setting in front of us.  Once we got back we spent the rest of the evening just resting and feeling the breeze blow and listening to the coyotes howl. 

Encourage One Another

Happy Trails

Unexpected Agony

Several months ago on the list of activities coming up for my Sunday School class was "Hike the Guadalupe Peak".  I had been wanting to do this ever since I moved out to west Texas.  I thought this would be a good opportunity, going with friends and I wouldn't even have to pay for gas.  I had read about this hike but really had absolutely NO idea of the type of hike it was.  i really thought it was somewhat like any other hike I had been on...not much too it.  The fact that I have been walking about 15 miles a week made me think not necessarily that it would be a cake but that I would have no trouble making it to the top. Boy was I wrong.  I knew by the first several hundred yards I was in trouble.  It was steep and it was rocky, big rocks, unstable rocks.  They told me on the way to the peak that the first miles and a third were the hardest...then it go easier.  By the first half mile I was ready to turn around.  If I had been by myself I probably would have.  But I was hiking at the BACK of the pack with a 70 year old man.  He had hiked this peak 4 times already.  I thought surely if he can I can.  He went slow and sure and I tell you it was all I could do to keep up with him.  We caught up with some other folks that I knew.  We traversed with them a while and then it was the older guy, a guy a bit younger than I and me.  We went all the way to the bridge together, some 3 1/2 miles straight as far as I could tell.  I was exhausted and fatigued.  I was hungry and near dehydration.  I did not have one of those camel back water carriers which made getting water out of my pack very difficult.  That and having some real hiking or trail shoes would be something I'd change in the future.  At that point I said "I can't go any further.  I'm afraid if I go any further I won't be able to make it down."  I knew since it had taken me 3 1/2 hours to go 3 1/2 miles it would take me a couple of hours to get down.  Also the group was going to turn around at 2p.m and start heading down.  It was already after 1:30.  By the time I would make it to the top, they would start heading down and not only would I not have time to rest, I would not be able to eat and by this time I was starving.  So I turned around.  It took me two hours to get to the bottom.  My legs were tremoring.  I finally made it town and said "I'll never do this again.  Nothing about it was pleasant.  It's too hard".  What a let down though.  I was very disappointed that I did not get to sign my name in the special ledger at the top of the peak.
By the next morning I was sore, but I was more convinced that I would have to try to climb that mountain again.  By day three I was so sore I could barely walk.  The difficulty of that hike was unexpected.  The soreness of my muscles was unexpected as well.  I believed I was more fit than that.  I was wrong.  Next trip I'll be a bit more fit.  I'll try to do some stair climbing or hill climbing to train before hand.  I'll have some trail or hiking shoes to wear to manage those rocks.  I'll try it in a little cooler weather.  I'll have a way to carry my water that I can drink easily as I go up.  I'll go with no pressure of time to get to the top or specific time I'll have to head down.  I'll go with someone who will be encouraging but not pressuring.  It'll be a challenge because truly it was so hard, there was nothing enjoyable about it.  Maybe it will be different when I make it to the top.

Encourage one another!

When We Were Young

My sister and me…when we were young we didn't get along at all.  I mean, we fought like cats and dogs.  All through elementary, junior high and high school we had little to do with each other!  She eventually got out of school and so did I.  We went off to different colleges and then both married. She moved to northern west Texas and me to south central Texas , miles apart.  We used to meet in the middle at our parents for holidays.  Somehow in our 20s we began to see the importance of ourselves as sisters.  Since then we have always been close.  She was there for me through two divorces.  In fact, the second one I moved to west Texas and moved in with her and her husband for a time, until I found a place to buy.  That's been over 4 years ago.  She, her husband and I have grown very close since then.  He is more like a brother than a brother in law.  They have been very supportive, helpful, and encouraging over that time.  Our relationship really changed again when I moved out here.  I had an opportunity to see how she lives day to day; how she is as a person to others; I saw her as others see her, not just as my sister.  She is a very giving special person.  She has lifetime friends.  She is loyal and trustworthy and I love her for all those things.  She is a lot like our mother.  If I was going to desire to be like someone, it would be my mother…and my sister. 

When our dad died in July (2010), our lives changed forever.  In the blink of an eye, or literally just hours after we saw him and hugged him good-bye he was gone.  Immortality was foremost in our minds.  The shortness of a lifetime was all I could think of for a while.  It put an urgency in everything I did or wanted to do.  Both our parents were gone.  She and I became the older generation.  We were in this alone now.  Since she is older than me, I'm sure she even had different feelings. 

We are still dealing with our father's death, when 7 months later, my sister has been diagnosed with breast cancer.  She has already had surgery and the cancer is gone from her body. We thank God for that.  We know for sure life is unpredictable.  Just when you think your catching your breath, life tosses you another curve. 

However, I have learned something else about my sister.  She is brave.  She is courageous.  She is faithful.  She is confident.  She is determined to do everything possible to be here for a long time.  She is pressing positively forward with the shadow of chemotherapy ahead of her.  She is moving forward with strength and determination.  She is going in with full armor and persistence like none I've seen before.  She gives me strength through her strength.  She said yesterday "I think I'm gonna be ok".  I believe her.  I'm counting on it. 

Encourage One Another

Helen Keller

"I am only one, but I am still one.  I cannot do everything, but I can still do something".

That is a quote by Helen Keller.  It is a reminder that everyone counts.  That each one of us amount to something, and that if we add ourselves together like bricks in a wall, we can build a house, we can hold back flooding water, we can withstand a fire.  I think her quote says two things, that even you alone can have an impact on the world if you just do something, be active, make a step.  You and only you might be the one and only one that could make a difference in someone's life.  You, on that day, at that time, might say the thing that helps a person see what they've been blinded from before.  Your hand that lifts them up, might the only hand that comes along that day. 

However, we as individuals can also build a team, each of us individually added together make a stronger bond.  Hand in hand or arm in arm we can stand for something.  We can change the world.

Scripture says in Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

"Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.  For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow…if one prevail against him, two shall withstand him; and a threefold cord is not quickly broken". 

So step forward, be the only one if that is what it takes.  Be the leader, the first one, the one that others follow.  Be the cornerstone that builds the wall. 

Just do something.

Encourage One Another

I Saw My First Robin Today

That's always my first sign of spring, that and when the mesquite and pecan trees start to bloom.  so far no blooms visual yet but with 80 degree weather forecasted this week it is literally just a matter of a few days I suspect.  I got a couple of photos on my iPhone but didn't check yet to see if they came out.  This morning on my 4 mile walk I actually saw several Robins.  They were all in desperate search for worms and bugs.  Busy they were.  I don't know where they go when they leave here, but leave here they do.  There lots of places for a little while then they go someplace else.  They have beautiful blue eggs.  Robin's egg blue they are called.  My eyes are blue and my name is Robin...a connection.  I've never seen a baby Robin.  I guess there are nests of them some where.  There are pictures of them everywhere.  I have a number of them myself.  I have one my mom painted hanging in my bathroom.  She copied a card and painted it.  I love that picture.  So did I tell you I love Robins.  I do.

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I Never Grow Tired of Going "Old"

I tried to get away from it.  I haven't been to an estate sale, tag sale, rummage sale, garage sale, or thrift store in a year.  I went "cold turkey" on those.  I sold stuff, donated stuff, packed up stuff, and gave away stuff.  I tried not to look at photos of it and steered clear of most magazine harboring the stuff.  But the truth is, and I can't deny it, I still love old stuff.  It's just part of my heart.  There's a connection I can't describe.  "Vintage"…that’s' the "new" name for it.  "Antiques", "old crap" and "trash" are other names for it.  For me, I call them "treasures". 

Yesterday it all got started again.  It was my drop off day at the local thrift store.  I've been cleaning out my house (purging and staging it to sell it) for 6-8 months now.  I've been dropping things off to resale to the owner and my friend (she's become a dear friend) Bev pretty often, every few months.  I've avoided going into the store to "just look around" up until yesterday.  Yesterday I went inside.  The first thing I saw was a little brown and gold ceramic horse made in Japan .  I collect little horses (because you know I love horse).  I carried him around the entire time I was in the store.  My next find was a handmade sock doll.  I had recently taken a little interest in them and looked some up on EBay.  I "watched" a few but did not make any purchases.  This little sock doll was almost pathetic, but she had a charm I could not turn down.  When I looked at her price I knew I would be taking her home.  Next item I spied was a bright yellow Pyrex dish.  It was the perfect size for a meatloaf.  Finding a temporary spot for them I tucked the doll and the pony inside the dish I packed it around also.  I circled the store, looking at linens, books, baskets, and other items as I pondered what to keep of what I was holding.  I was struggling with "your trying to get rid of stuff; you don't need to take anything home with you; put these back".  On the way back by the shelf w/ the Pyrex dish to consider replacing it I saw on the bottom shelf a very old yellow floral covered casserole dish.  I picked it up to see the price.  It was labeled $49.95, however, this was "pink" label day and EVERYTHING labeled "pink" was $.98.  I mean really, how in the world could I pass it up?  By the end of my shopping trip I talked myself out of buying the little horse (do I really need one more horse) but I sort of tucked him away on the back of his shelf thinking "I'll be back!"  So my three treasured items cost me a whopping $3.99 at the checkout.  My previously sold dropped off items had created some credit for me in the store and I didn't even have to pay anything!  What a deal.  Still feeling a little guilty though, I walked out of the store knowing I'd be back.  Upon getting home and washing my new cookware, I was already planning what to cook in them.  I later made a call to my sister to ask her and my brother in law over for dinner tonight.  Guess what we're having for dinner…meat loaf!

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From Sea to Shining Sea

I really don't know, but I think so, that my father actually did go out on a big boat of some kind when he was in the Navy.  My parents grew up in the same town, Waco, Texas, went to the same school, and lived on the same street.  They knew each other a long time before they ever started dating.  My mother was a couple of years younger than my dad.  My dad was the middle child of three boys; three typical troublemaking, mischievous boys.  If I were guessing, I suspect that when they started dating my grandparents said "oh my word, not that rowdy boy!"  In the end though I know my grandparents were saying "thank you Lord for blessing our daughter with a God fearing, loving husband to our daughter and father to our granddaughters".  That I know for sure.

Anyway, my parents started dating sometime in high school.  I'm sure there were rules about dating and curfews and double dates.  Both my parents had lots of friends so double dating was a frequent occurrence.  So out of high school, even though he and my mother were "an item", my dad enlisted to keep from being drafted, he and a bunch of his friends.  He joined the Navy.  While I don't know a lot about his time in the Navy (a regret I have that I never asked him), I know he was a Pharmacist's Mate First Class and was stationed in Nouméa, New Caledonia at the USN Mobile Hospital #5.  I know this because my brother in law recently researched it.  During World War II, Nouméa served as the headquarters of the United States military in the South Pacific. New Caledonia is an island in the South Pacific 2080 miles west of Australia .  Nouméa is 7395 miles from Waco.  It actually looks like a beautiful tropical island.  I don't know how long he was there.  I never bothered to ask him where he was, what he did, how long he was gone.  I never bothered.  I wish he were here now for me to ask him.  Oh, my there is so much I want to ask him.  He and my mother wrote endless letters to one another.  They were truly in love.  My father eventually returned home and he and my mother were married.  They both attended Baylor University.  Even though times were tough and money was tight, they both managed to obtain college degrees.

Recently, the Houston Stock Show and Rodeo held a special military honors day for all military personnel.  They were served lunch and free entry into the rodeo grounds as well as tickets to the rodeo.  My family donated to this event in my father's honor.  His photo was displayed on a display board for the current active military men and women and their families who were there, to see.  I saw it too.  It made me very proud. It made me cry. It makes me very sad that I never asked him about his service, that I never really honored him for it.  They played taps at his funeral.  They gave my sister and me the flag that draped his coffin.  The Naval officers thanked us for his service and expressed sympathy for our loss.

Daddy I always honored you as my father, today I also honor you as a man of service to his country, a man who believed in freedom, a man who served his country, a man of honor.

Encourage One Another