FUNNY THING ABOUT THINGS

While being the chamber director and beginning the windmill park, I took advantage of being the one to order samples for the brick pavers and tiles to be placed on the memory fence.

This little paver has been at 1107 since 2002.  There was really no place for it.  I had a few bricks missing on the front planter, but often I would find this brick on the sidewalk, in the yard, here and there and everywhere...

except set in concrete.

Today...this little old brick is set forever..in the chimney to the pizza oven where it will stay until somebody else outside the family buys this house...

except that will never happen.

So...this little brick is here forever.

hmmmm....that makes me think....I'll take a basil and tomato pizza!

THEY CALL IT COLE SLAW

At the risk of being redundant and using this photo again, I will, since that's what this blog is really all about.

Growing up on Townsend street, my bedroom was painted this color...with a canopy bed and toile curtains.

At Miss Collard's house, almost the entire house was painted this color and I never changed it.

At Miss Berry's...the bathroom.

At 1107, Mattie's room was painted "Cole Slaw".  She didn't really like it very much by the way. 

Perhaps she might have liked it better if the name would have been "Methodical"...which is what it is today. 

No kidding....the very nearly same color of green my entire life.

Like the old painter Smitty used to say when he painted the entire Bulls' Inn "Pistachio"...

"it's just easy on the eyes"

MY SISTER'S ROOM

Welcome to the guest room at the rock house, aka The Bird Room

It features a very old sleigh bed that hubby bought me before we married.

And my Granny Bea's chairs and drum table that have been a trio since before I was born.  They were gold velvet...now they have a lively floral print.

Original art by Amy Winton...oil pastel of redbuds in Lipscomb..my favorite tree

Original art by Marilyn Yanke...oil on canvas...above my mother's dresser

Beautiful stain glass windows in place of a door that made no sense

Most certainly a prayer candle and an angel or 12

Triple Down...down feather bed, cozy down comforter, fluffy down pillows...all in a crisp vintage white

Flowers to hold back the silk drapes

An iris collage made by my grandmother's talented and loving hands...she gave this to me many years ago and I adore it

A snail?  Of course!

A view?  Of course...no need to worry about peekers...just birds as this room in nestled in the pines

The Bird Girl...a great read!

and because my sister is my very best friend...a pillow that desribes her...she is a flower growing in the sunshine. 

I have 3 brothers and one younger sister.  When she was little she annoyed the heck out of me at times.  Mostly because she often dissapeared when it was time to do dishes or wanted to play Barbies with me and my friends.  One time I had a friend over and she cried to sleep with me.  So I let her...only I made her sleep on the floor beside the bed.  And she did.  And while I have forgiven myself for being such a meanie to her, I think about it sometimes and how those we love the most we treat the ugliest.

But in this house...this is her room.  It's my mother's room although she will never come visit, and it is most certainly my grandmother's room, but since she's in heaven...I just filled it with her things and know that she is alive in all that is there.

And lest you get too impressed with the soft and inviting ambiance of this room....take a look at the bathroom below that goes along with it.

YIKES!  Not to worry though...I have big plans for it too!  Soon I hope!

CINNAMON ROY

b. Apr 21, 1923, Donley County, Texas

d. Oct 14, 1998, Borger, Hutchinson County, Texas, age: 75

 

Meet Cinnamon Roy. 

 

Today would have been his 88th birthday. 

I miss him and think of him every day of my life.

 

The lessons he taught me with his iron hand and loud voice...hard to imagine from this photo that he had either...stay with me.

 

"All it takes to tell the truth is a little bit a guts"

"Methodists don't believe in reincarnation..that's for heathens"

 

So my grandmother could pass on a prize lesson due to him..."you can tell the character of a man by the way he treats his mother"...evidently she was impressed.

 

One day we were all invited over for steaks.  When daddy cooked a steak..that was all that was on your plate...steak.  On this particular day, he must have been thinking of some rig far away and instead of sprinkling the steaks with pepper (no salt for us) he accidently grabbed the cinnamon and so became known and remembered by those who loved him..."Cinnamon Roy".

 

These memories to this day bring tears to my eyes.

 

I think he is sitting in heaven amused at me restoring the home my mother wanted in 1965, but refused to buy her because it needed too much work.

 

Here's to you daddy...I don't have a kitchen for steaks today, but I sure might sprinkle some cinnamon in my pondtini. 

 

I miss you and think of you every day of my life.

BONAVENTURE WAY

Tonight I drift off to sleep listening to a historical documentary about John Muir.  The night breeze rustles my curtains.

He was a a nature man who walked across America in the late 1800s sketching  in his book as he traveled throughout the land.

This room in my old rock house is in his honor as I named it "the nature room" the minute I saw it.

It has vintage butterfly prints, old turtle shells, and a cross made with loving hands from bleached drift wood adorned with beads and silver from Peruvian Indians.

Along his walk, Muir spent a night in the Bonaventure Cemetery in Savannah.

I was just there last week.

I wonder if we stood in the same place, amazed by the same grand moss draped oaks and melancholy marble angels.

I wonder if he ever imagined that his world would someday be brought to life to be shared across his beloved America...in a box...with sound...and photos?  Technology that broadcasts his marvelous writings and simple message of nature and beauty of his world...while someone like me...drifts off to sleep hearing the words he was compelled to pen. 

Eloquent words that connect me to him and us to the melancholy marble angels.

Somehow, I think he knew.

GRACE AND FELIX

Grace Maria Bransford Bulls

Felix M. Bransford circa 1885

She became a homesteader in Oklahoma and he became a prominent lawyer in Ft. Worth.

She...is my grandmother...he...I never knew.

She moved to Donley County via wagon and had 6 children, one of which was my father Roy Lynn Bulls.

I have her rocker, the one given to her by her father.  I painted it purple.  My dad told me one time that if I went to the trouble and expense to repair it, I could paint it whatever color I wanted.

In it, I rocked and nursed my own Grace Maria...and then rocked her daughter Betty Beatrice.

Family trees are the most fun trees of all to climb!

OH HAPPY DAY

Today is somebody's birthday who is very dear to me.  A few memories I'd like to share.

I remember going to church with my family and marching down the isle with my very pregnant mother.  I was 10 and just about to cringe to death because I knew that everyone knew what she'd been doing.

I remember my sister dressing up in heels and makeup and carrying this poor child around with his head bobbing like a rag doll.

I remember him falling off the merry go round his very first day of school and having a knot bigger than a chicken egg.  He had to come home.

I remember a few months later he began to have seizures and my dad picked me up at an out of town football game and told me our little brother might have a tumor, or cancer, or something very bad.  It's the only time I ever saw him cry.

I remember when he was 14 and went to baseball camp and forgot to take his medicine and while my parents were on a trip, my sister and I had to take him to the hospital because he was having seizures.  We never left his side.

I remember after that he refused to take his medicine because he wanted to be normal.  This was at the risk of him not ever getting his driver's license.  He's never had a seizure since.

I remember when he got married and we danced the cha-cha at his Catholic Spanish wedding.

I remember 6 months later him walking out of the delivery room..huge smile...with a baby foot stamped on his hand.

I remember him telling me that you need to give to the people under the bridge and it's up to God to decide if they're ripping you off or not.  He just wants us to give.

And today...I remember that my family...my brothers, my sister, my mother, my children and most of all my hubby...are the ones I love the very very most.

And I'm pretty sure they love me back because I can do a very witty photo shop.  And to brother #2.  Sorry I forgot to blog on your birthday...I have some very good memories of you too...the above is one for sure!

OPERATION CLANDESTINE BUZZARD RELOCATION: ACCOMPLISHED

Perhaps you may have noticed I have been M.I.A.

More on that later.

We thought we had cured our turkey vulture problem last fall by drastically chopping off their sunset roost.

Not so lucky.

When we returned from our week long trip, back they were and in a very big way. (view 47 in photo)

So big that an email circulated around FNB making a joke about hubby's car being covered with white poop.

These birds are protected.  More on that later.

Neighborhood conversation:

B:  ##(U%#@ there they are again..have you seen my car?

W McC:  I just saw some birds scatter and thought B must have his shotgun handy.
M:  He can't shoot them, they're protected!
B:  I don't want to shoot them...I want to shoo them and I can do that with a gun
G:  He really tried to shoo them wearing only his boxers?  That oughta work!
T(tipsy neighbor):  Your house is baaaaaaaaad Aaaaaa$$...no wonder you don't want them hanging around
B:  *#($&%% there they are again...I just washed my car!
B:  Fully clothed, claps very loudy...no gun involved.
B to G:  get in the car and let's go see where they went, I think they headed north.
B:  Why does that family think they can ride bikes all over the whole street?
G:  THERE THEY ARE!
G:  It's a good thing they're protected...they don't even know what a tree is.
B:  Nice to see our tree empty!

THE IDIOM

This morning I had a nice chat with my mother.

She tricked me by calling from her home phone as I didn't recognize the ring tone I had given her cell.   So I got down from my ladder which was a good thing since I was painting my fireplace in my VS striped pjs, to answer the call.

It might have been my appliances arriving.

Nope.  Mom.

She made me laugh.  And then for reasons I won't get into, I wanted to

Bop. Her. On. The. Head.

Have you ever felt this way about your mother?

Shake your head yes.

Ok.  I am not alone.

I love her.

But I am so glad she is not the boss of me anymore.

I LOVE EDDY AND I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE

Ok...Eddy is our electrician.  He is at my house almost everyday and I really really like him.

He's funny.  He's polite.  He's courteous.  He works hard.  He's cute.

Today, I saw him on isle 3 at the grocery store with his woman.

They were standing close and they were talking about what they were going to have for supper. I didn't need to wonder what they were doing an hour ago.

I saw him in a whole different light. 

They way he looked at her like do we want cilantro or no?  Do we want beef or pork?  Do we need windex or pledge?

Raw.  Real.  Just doing what we do.  Connected.  Very.Connected.

And the way they obviously felt about one another made me feel happy.  It made me feel better about the days he crawls around in my attic and under my house connecting wires and plugs and 220s and 110s.  And the day he worked all day to put in a 3way only to find that it was at the wrong place..not by his choice but by ours...

The dissapointment on his face...I hope...was changed when he went home to his pretty little wife who had been to the store getting his supper...with the money he earned from us.

That is what makes the world go around.  And around.

I love Eddy.  And I'm not the only one.

I'M UNDER HERE

To all my peeps who have been worried about where I've been and why I'm not at my computer as usual.   I am truly covered up.  I'm under here somewhere..and when I'm not...I'm out getting a breath of fresh air!

THE FARMER'S WIFE CUT OFF HIS TAIL WITH A BUTCHER'S KNIFE

So long you no good, ball sticking, no double-clicking, old, crappy mouse.

You have given me my last annoyed beyond my limit moment.  Off with your tail!

You have made my last couple of days wretched.  Ok...I admit perhaps your performance was affected by my slamming you on the table now and again.  But, I would not have done that had you been clicking right.  So it's kind of a Catch 22...and I'm the boss.  Your copy/paste days are O.V.E.R.

So adios miceo...

Hello. PRECIOUS!

LOAD UP IN THE LIMO

My mother...

is a beautiful creature.  Inside and out, but especially out.

She has been told many times she looks like Elizabeth Taylor and I kind of think she does too.

When I was 19 we took a trip to NYC.

It was at the height of the oil boom and something I took for granted that we could afford a limo to take us out and about.

We had dinner reservations one night at some swanky restaurant and arrived in our long black limo.  When we got out...a crowd kind of gathered thinking they might be in the presence of Elizabeth Taylor.

Nope, just a pretty face from Texas.

First peep asked me last night...did Honey (that's her name because she never wanted to be Grandma) ever regret that she had 5 kids and didn't pursue a different life?

My response was that while she was very beautiful and very intelligent, her talent was sewing and creating and she really didn't have a talent such as singing or acting...so she really didn't give up anything.

In fact...she had it all.  And she still does.

DONTCHA JUST LOVE PRINCE

Ok....I walk in from the grocery store after stocking up on Windex and hear this moaning.  I mean loud.  In fact, it kind of scared me.

So I walk closer to the sound and I realize it's Fred.  He's singing....or moaning.

Ok...so he's painting our doors with Cetol and I'm thinking "Man he must be really high."  And I'm sure he is because I can smell it from here.   And I say, "Fred, that looks nice."  And he doesn't respond.  And I think, "I'm sure now he's pretty high."

He catches my movement and turns around and I just about die laughing...he has on a headset.  And he's singing.  Only he can't hear what I hear...which is moaning. 

I bet he thinks he sounds good.  But he doesn't.  He scared me, then I thought he was high. 

And then I thought he must be listening to Prince.

Or Floyd Cramer.

I PLEDGE

To never buy more Pledge for the next 8 years.

Has this ever happened to you?  You're at the grocery store and Pledge is on a 2 For sale.  You can't remember, you aren't sure, but you think you might be out of it....so in your basket go two cans of Pledge.

When you get back to your cleaning closet you realize this has happened to you before. 

8X

Now...this is not my story, but with the rock house came at least 12+ cans of Pledge and one or two+ squirt bottles of Orange Wood Cleaner.

I would never buy that much Pledge, just ask peep 3 about my dusting habits.  So I shared many cans with many friends and still have some to spare.

I would never buy that much dusting paraphernalia.  In my house you might however find an abundance of...

Windex.

Because. I. Love. Clean. Windows.