Greenbelt

I know many will laugh at my naivete, but I honestly did not know what a greenbelt was and how great is was to live near. It wasn't until I moved to Texas that I was able to experience first hand the perfection that is greenbelt. Where our home is located we have greenbelt on the left side of the house and at the back. It's like having a mini forest right outside my back door. This is our view from the back porch.



Jerry built a gate in the back fence so now we can easily step out into another world of peace and tranquility. Trees, wildflowers, butterflies and deer all abound in our greenbelt. A small creek lies right at the foot of the hill where we live. It's mainly dry in the summer, but once a rainstorm hits, it flows with life and energy. Tadpoles squirm and float, and birds sing and dive at the grasshoppers who happen to chirp so loud even I can hear them without my hearing aids.

I had no greenbelt where I lived in California. We had a canal behind our house full of mosquitos and frogs. Oh, and a train track that clanked at all times of the night. I so don't miss those sounds.

Here, I open up my bedroom windows and enjoy the cool breeze and listen to the birds, grasshoppers and many other crunchy critters I haven't identified yet. I feel so spoiled having such beautiful nature so close to home. It's calming for my soul.

What's great about all this is that being a greenbelt, it's going to stay natural. It will not be bulldozed into another useless shopping center. It will stay green, wild and a home for creatures big and small.

This makes me quite happy.

Mission San José y San Miguel de Aguayo

When visiting San Antonio most people stop to see the Alamo. It's definately worth seeing. It's a piece of history that is held sacred by most all Texans. It's important to see the video in the soldier's garrison before seeing anything. It will help explain the history behind the Alamo. But I'm not going to focus on the Alamo here. BTW, there is NO basement at the Alamo. lol

What I always recommend to visitors is to check out the Mission San José y San Miguel de Aguayo. It gives the visual people out there, like myself, an understanding of what missions were like back in the 1700s. Located a bit south of the Alamo, it's also in San Antonio. It's one of the most beautiful missions I've ever seen. It has the land around it that we wish the Alamo still had around it. Mission San Jose is a great place to see the beauty of what was--the artwork there touches my heart.

Founded in 1720, the mission was named for Saint Joseph and the Marqués de San Miguel de Aguayo, the governor of the Province of Coahuila and Texas at the time. It was built on the banks of the San Antonio river several miles to the south of the earlier mission, San Antonio de Valero (the Alamo).

Its founder was the famed Father Antonio Margil de Jesús, a very prominent Franciscan missionary in early Texas.

It's known as the "Queen of the Missions."

http://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/SS/uqs23.html

The statues are all around the church:





The next time you are in San Antonio, make sure to check out Mission San Jose. It's free to see and offers a touch of history not often found. You won't regret it.

Kreuz Market and Barbecue

(I took the first three photos and the rest I snagged off of photobucket)



I've read articles spouting the perfection of barbecue in Lockhart, Texas. The Texas legislature has officially deemed it the BBQ capital of Texas. It's been in Bon Appetit, Gourmet Magazine, on the Food Network on more than one show and the Travel Channel. Lockhart is a mere hour and 20 minutes from where I live. Jerry and I had to check it out.

The town is just a bump in the road. It sports on a good day about 12,000 people. It has a handful of beautiful historic houses on main street and a courthouse that harkens back to the good, old days.




On this visit, we went to Kreuz Market (pronounced Krites). It started as a German Market in 1900. There was some family disagreements between the original owners three kids. One kid stayed at the original site and renamed it Smitty's Market, it's right off the town square, and one of the other kids took the name and moved it to a new location on the edge of town and named it Kreuz Market. Kreuz Market is a huge facility. It seats about 560 people.



It has an actual wooden sidewalk out front and an antique-look inside. I loved this sign they had posted.






You go one way to order in a room set aside. You can feel the heat from the BBQ pit as you enter. I felt sorry for the people working in that room. There are no platters or sandwiches. (photo snarked from photobucket as I was too busy deciding on my meat choices to take photos)




This is what the order board looks like:




You order by the pound/half pound. I chose a small amount of brisket, ribs, smoked ham and two links of their homemade sausage(regular and jalapeno). They put your meats on butcher paper, toss on half a loaf of Wonder white bread, a sleeve of crackers and two plastic knives. You then carefully pick up that butcher paper load and head into another room.

This is not Jerry. Another photo snagged.




As you walk to the doors leaving the meat room you feel the heat coming from the BBQ pit. Oak logs glow super hot and the smell is divine.

The second room is where you choose what sides you want. I chose German potatoes, beans and sauerkraut. That's right. BBQ style sauerkraut. Add a side of marinated onions and unsweetened tea and lemonade and Jerry and I are set. By the way, no plates, no forks. We got plastic spoons with the beans and little plastic bowls, but that's it. Oh, and no barbuecue sauce. They have the firm belief that meat this good doesn't need to hide behind a sauce.

I would have taken a photo of the meats, but we were too busy eating. LMAO Here's another photo I snagged off of photobucket of people who had more self control than I had.



The meat was delicious and the sides were tasty. If you would have told me I would eat sauerkraut with barbecue I would have thought you were nuts. But they add some chopped barbecued brisket to the sauerkraut and it was damned good. The brisket was good, but not memorable. I personally believe, and Jerry stated, that my smoked tri-tip tastes tons better. He said I need to market it. LOL The beans must have jalapenos in them because they were HOT. Jerry loved them and the jalapeno sausage. I can't handle the super hot stuff so I just took his word for it. He actually sweated as he ate them. They were that hot. But he said those were his favorites.

For me, it was the smoked ham and sauerkraut. I'd go back just for those.

We had dessert of miniature apple pies that were tasty.

I had wanted to check out Smitty's while we were there, but we were stuffed. I had Jerry drive by it just so we could easily find it next time we visit. It's right nearby the courthouse I showed up above.

The drive was worth it. We had leftovers which makes for a great next day lunch. San Antonio, and it's nearby areas, has so much great food to choose from you never get bored. I love it here.

History

I love history. It ties back to my high school years with my favorite teacher of all times, Mr. Fred Horlacher. My junior year Nevada History class was the most amazing experience of my life. Mr. Horlacher lived and breathed history. He brought it life. We never had a book in his class. If his lecture was on the Civil War, he'd come in dressed as a soldier and tell us about the Civil War as if he lived it. One time he came in full Native American garb. A full feather headress and all. You took your notes from his lecture and that's what he tested on. He was the coolest teacher in the whole school.

He was also the advisor for the Ghost Towners Nevada History Club. You fought to get into his classes and to get into the club. It was only open to upperclassmen and was a blast to be in. We went on field trips all around Northern Nevada. Our initiation into the club was walking around the Virginia City cemetery on Halloween night at midnight. Come on, how cool was that? He had it boobytrapped with sounds and people to scare us. After we walked around (and screamed a lot) we sat around the headstones as he told us real life "ghost" stories about the residents of Virginia City. I can still close my eyes and see exactly what it looked like. It's a snapshot I've had in my brain all these years.

He took us along the same path the infamous Donner Party took that fateful winter. He had handed out beef jerky to us and we walked by moonlight. No flashlights. He told us the sad story about the Donner Party. Of course, once they got to the part of cannibalizing, the beef jerky just didn't taste good anymore. lol

He loved to play practical jokes on us. Sitting around a campfire, he would tell us stories about the Native Americans that lived around Lahontan resevoir. He would have us repeat a few Paiute phrases. Owa Ta Foo Iam. Over and over we'd say it. Suddenly people started giggling. More and more of us got it. What a crack up he was.

He sent newbie students on "snipe" hunting trips. Those who knew about snipes kept out laughter quiet until the newbs were out in the dark making noises and carrying a burlap bag.

I learned to appreciate and respect the history of Nevada because of Mr. Horlacher. And because his passion for history rubbed off on me, I am learning to love and respect the history of Texas. And Texas has a lot of history wrapped up within its borders. Each day trip we take we learn something else about this place we call home.

Mr. Horlacher would be proud.

Texas Scenery

I love the funky scenery I've come across since we've moved to Texas. When friends and family heard we were moving to Texas they were shocked. "Why do you want to move to a place that only has rattlesnakes and tumbleweeds?" Well, I had to educate them that Texas has a lot more going for it. Yes, west Texas does have those things, but where we are--south central Texas--we have a bit more beauty, in my opinion.

Personally, we are living at the edge of what is called "Hill Country." It's lush, peaceful and always beautiful. Even in the drought we are experiencing, it's lovely. Deer are abundant and you can see many birds and butterflies.

The first thing I noticed when we moved here was all the stone. Not only could you see the stone cut along the roadway, it is used as major focal points in housing and retail sites. The photo above was one I took in a retail shopping center. Instead of removing the tree, the planners left it and utilized it in a unique way. I find it so funky, it's almost Zen to me. lol

I can handle living where it is hot, as long as it's pretty. That's always been my mantra. And it's pretty here.

Here are some photos I snagged off the Internet to show you all how gorgeous it is here. :)

Brackettville

Back in January, Jerry and I decided to take a day trip. We drove 2 1/2 hours from San Antonio and visited a place called Brackettville. It's a small town in west Texas that is barely a bump on the road. It was a nice, almost desolate drive from San Antonio. Many places reminded us of our drives in California. The scenery is similar of the central coast. A touch of farm land mixed in with desolate desert and sagebrush. It's almost a mixture of land around Fresno and Mojave jumbled together. The day was beautiful. We left San Antonio when it was cloudy and in the low 60s to Brackettville where it cleared up to blue skies and high 60s.

We drove seven miles outside of Brackettville to a destination knowns as Alamo Village. What is Alamo Village and why were we visiting it? It's a huge, movie set that still is active today. It was originally constructed, basically in the middle of nowhere, for and by John Wayne. He had a movie he really wanted to make, "The Alamo," which also starred Richard Widmark. They started building it in 1957, and finished two years later, and in 1959 they started filming the movie.

This place is not just false-fronted buildings normally seen on movie sets, this is is a complete town. More than a million and a quarter adobe bricks were made and used. They used 12 miles of water pipes and 30,000 square feet of Spanish roofing tiles. Part of the site has a replica of the Alamo from 1830s. They also built a Mexican town from the 1830s that has a jail, saloon, general store, stables, church, cemetery, bank and blacksmith shop.

This was the first movie set built in Texas. It is stocked with stagecoaches, wagons, surreys, cannons, props and set dressings. This year they are celebrating their 50th anniversary. Apparently, they are going to have recreators wandering around in full costume, ranchers will bring cattle and horses, offering trail rides around the ranch and more.

Since it was January, only a handful of visitors were at the site. It was peaceful, quiet and scenic. If I were going to make my own western movie, I'd definately check this place out. Or, if I wanted to do Western themed photos of my family, this is the place. There's not much going on around it, it's quiet. No amusement rides, fudge shops or the rest.

They have filmed more than 100 movies, documentaries and music videos at Alamo Village. Some, I'm sure you've all seen.

Movies
1951 Arrowhead - Charlton Heston
1955 The Last Command - Ernest Borgnine
1958 Five Bold Women - Irish McCalla
1959 John Wayne's "The Alamo"
1960 The Spirit of the Alamo (TV) - NBC
1960 Roy Rogers Show (TV)
1960 John Ford's - Two Rode Together - Jimmy Stewart
1966 Top Hand (TV)
1967 Aye, That Pancho Villa (TV)
1967 Bandolero - Dean Martin
1968 Children's West (Lon Chaney, Jr.) (TV)
1973 A Death in Tombstone
1974 The Texas Ballad (KLRN-TV)
1978 Adventures of Jody Shanan
1978 Centennial, "The Longhorns" (TV) - Dennis Weaver
1979 Code of Josey Wales - Michael Parks
1980 Barbarosa - Gary Busey
1980 Seguin (American Playhouse) - Edward James Olmos
1981 "Kathleen" Kestrel Films
1982 Tennessee to Texas - A Musical Affair (TV) - Tanya Tucker
1984 Up Hill All The Way -Burt Reynolds
1986 Houston - Legend of Texas (TV) - Sam Elliott
1986 The Alamo - Thirteen Days To Glory (TV) - Alec Baldwin
1986 No Safe Haven - Wings Hauser
1987 Alamo: Price of Freedom - Caser Biggs
1988 Lonesome Dove (TV) - Robert Duvall
1989 Gunsmoke - The Last Apache (TV) - James Arness
1991 JCV Japanese Quiz Show (TV)
1991 American Movie Classics (TV - Bob Dorian
1992 Rio Diablo (TV) - Travis Tritt
1992 Travis Smith (direct to video)
1993 Bad Girls - Madeleine Stowe
1994 Gambler V (TV) - Kenny Rogers
1994 James A. Michener's, "Texas" (TV) - John Schneider
1994 Good Old Boys (TV) - Sam Shephard
1995 Streets of Laredo (TV) - James Garner
1995 A&E History Channel's "The Alamo" (TV)
1995 Discovery Channel's - "The Battes of the Alamo" (TV)
1995 PBS - Ken Burns "The West" (TV)
1995 A&E Biography - "Davy Crockett: American Frontier Legend" (TV)
1995 The Learning Channel's - "Famous Battles" - Alamo Segment (TV)
1995 Discovery Channel's - Buffalo Soldiers" (TV)
1996 Once upon A Time In China and America - Sammo Hung
1999 Alamo... The New Defenders (direct to video)
1999 The Bullfighter - Domineca Scorcese
1999 The History Channel's - "Haunted San Antonio" (TV)
2000 Jericho - Mark Valley - Leon Coffee - Buck Taylor
2001 The History Channel's "History vs Hollywood" (TV)
2002 "Westown" Sturghill Productions
2006 Blue Eyes - Walker Cable Productions
2006 Mexican Gold - Walker Cable Productions
2007 The Man Who Came Back - Walker Cable Productions - Eric Braden - Billy Zane
2007 - Friend of The Devil (TV Pilot)

Music Videos

1980 Willie Nelson - "Tougher Than Leather"
1995 Brooks & Dunn - "You're Gonna Miss Me When I'm Gone"
1996 Gary Hobbs - "Corazon de la Ardiente"
1996 La Tropa F - "The Sheriff"
1996 "Los Palominos"
1999 Shade of Red - "Revolution"

Here are some photos we took:

Rembrandt

I saw my first Rembrandt, in person mind you, when the Armand Hammer Art Collection was on display at California State University, Bakersfield. It was a momentous occasion for me. I had seen original art before, but never anything such as I saw that day. I walked into rooms filled with works by Dutch, Flemish, German, and Italian masters. My world changed in a split second. I finally "got" it when someone said, "Good art is not what it looks like, but what it does to us." (Roy Adzak)

What it did for and to me was wake me up. Up until that time I was culturally asleep. The richness of the colors, the amazing techniques to take blank canvases and create life out of them took my breath away.

The fact that I was standing in front of something that was created hundreds of years earlier gave me chills. The clarity of the strokes, the vibrancy of the colors, the beauty of Rembrandt's work was just as beautiful as it must have been the day he finished it.

I had to have a poster of his work. After I left the exhibit, I learned they had sold out of the poster I wanted. It was an early work of his entitled, "Portrait of a Man Holding a Black Hat." (c. 1637) I became a person with a mission. I had to have that poster. I tried finding the poster at all art places in town. No luck. I wound up writing to the Armand Hammer Collection administrators begging for a copy of the poster. I lucked out as they took pity on me. In the mail came a copy of the poster I lusted after.



If you want to understand why I love this man's work, check out this link:

http://www.rembrandtinsocal.org/slideshow/slideshow.html

Living the rough life

I've often wondered how I would have survived living the pioneer life. I have long felt a deep connection to old places and things. It feels comfortable. It feels right. It's a natural fit for me. I'm not sure why, but it is. When I look at historic recreations of an old cabin I feel happy. I'm not turned off by the bare wood, the small rooms or lack of new things.

It comforts my soul to picture myself bustling around, cooking dinner over an open flame in a large hearth. Seeing my man sitting at a table, drinking a cup of coffee and smiling at the children. It's like a slice of time opens up when I see places like this and I see the memories. I see what was--and I feel the struggles and the happiness that happened. It was hard, but it was worth it.

I feel a connection to my ancestors when I see places such as these. I honor their memories by respecting the past. Most of us nowadays have no clue what it was like to make you own food from scratch, to create your own soap, furniture, housing and really grow crops to survive.

We are so lucky today to be able to go to a supermarket/department store and buy all we need. Are we better off for it? I don't think so. On one hand we are richer than many during those times, but we are also poorer.

I'm blessed that I am where I am because of the sacrifices they made. If you truly think about what all your ancestors had to survive, you'd realize how damned lucky you are to even be here.

“If you look deeply into the palm of your hand, you will see your parents and all generations of your ancestors. All of them are alive in this moment. Each is present in your body. You are the continuation of each of these people.”-Thich Nhat Hanh quotes (Vietnamese Monk, Activist and Writer. b.1926)

Texas Underground

It took me about two years to finally get my husband to agree to go check out a local site that is pretty darn cool. First off, let me say that I have a touch of claustrophia. I'm okay in elevators and closets, but not anything tight that involves the earth. Tunnels, caves and the such make me itchy and a tad lightheaded. But I had heard so much about Natural Bridge Caverns that I wanted to check it out. This place is the largest cavern in Texas.

The first time I brought it up to my husband he balked. We had been experiencing major rain storms and to him, the thought of going underground, especially after it had been raining for 52 days straight, was unacceptable. Finally, things dried out and a year or so later, he agreed. Less than 20 minutes from our house is an amazing natural beauty. It's quite unassuming as you drive up to the place. The grounds are typical Texas--oak trees and big skies. In fact, Jerry and I sat around after the tour on a bench and listened to jazz music on his IPhone and enjoyed the clear blue skies and butterflies.

It's when you step underground that things really start to amaze you.

The entrance is down a short way from the visitor's center and I have to admit I took a couple of deep breaths as we walked into the passageway. I figured if I got too freaked out I could leave. I wanted to see how far I could go. Well, I went all the way--180 feet deep underground. And I didn't freak out once. lol

Natural Bridge Caverns has areas of it that are larger than a football field. We saw it all--stalagmites, stalactites, and chandeliers. We also saw soda straws, which are hollow tubes from where the water leaches through the ground. Nature is so freaking cool. Wherever you looked were amazing formations. From the ground to the ceiling.



We had a great time visiting the place and will go back to do the Illuminations Tour they offer. They also let people do spelunking, but there's NO way I'm crawling into a small tunnel. I'd get stuck and lose my mind. lol

As we were walking down there, I realized that I could easily live underground in a place like Natural Bridge. No bugs, no critters (except they had bats down there at once point in history. The petrified guano gave it away)

If you didn't know where the opening was--it would be a pretty darn safe place to live. I believe they found evidence that Native Americans lived down there at one time.

Heck, Texas even does the underground bigger than anyone else. rofl

Big Skies

“We all live under the same sky, but we don't all have the same horizon”

Konrad Adenauer

Probably one of the first things my husband and I noticed when we moved to Texas was the sky. You might ask yourself, "What's the big deal about the Texas sky?" Well, it's flipping huge. It's not your normal sky. You might think you know what a big sky is---but unless you've been to Texas you have no idea.

For as far as the eye can see, you see a clear, blue window to heaven. I'm used to having mountains around me. When I lived in Reno, it was the Sierras. When we lived in California it was mountains not just north to south, but also east to west. Now, I love mountains, but I didn't realize how boxed in we were until we moved to San Antonio.

Our first year here Jerry and I used to just stop and stare. We'd be filling the Jeep up with gas and find ourselves just taking it all in. I'm sure many were looking at us, wondering what was capturing out attention. It is so clear, almost no pollution. Trust me, coming from California we would drive and see the layers of pollution in the air. So to be somewhere where there was practically none was amazing.

Sunsets here are so breathtaking, too. The colors are crisp, and yet soft. Strong and muted all at the same time. Oranges, yellows, purples and reds, as if a crayola box exploded in the sky. We hope to finish our back patio and I can't wait to sit out there and watch all the sunsets. It truly calms the soul.

We might share the same sky, but our horizons are so different.

Believing

I want to believe that goodness always wins out. I want to believe that whenever I reach into my candy jar, a piece of chocolate will always be there. I want to believe that Diane Mott Davidson will never stop writing her Goldie the Caterer mysteries.

I need to believe that I raised my sons the right way and that they have turned into the proper, honorable young men I hope them to be. I need to believe that I will lose the cough50cough pounds that I dream to lose. I need to believe that it's okay to cry over sappy tv commercials.

I have to believe that I can do anything I set my mind to--from climbing Mt. Whitney to driving the Weinermobile. I have to believe that I have made my parents proud with what I've accomplished in my life.

I believe that I married the most perfect man for me. I know what true happiness is and I'm grateful for every breath I take. I believe that my beautiful daughter in law is the best thing that has happened to my son. And that I know she makes perfect babies.

I also believe that if you put out positive, you will get positive in return. So I wish to one all, believe in yourself and you will be the happiest person no matter where you go.

Rainy days and Monday .....

We are going to save every drop of water we can. Rainy days haven't been around here for awhile and it's so dry. Our first step, buying a rain barrel. This baby can holds 57 gallons of life giving water. Now, it's just needs to flipping rain. I have it positioned in the best spot to collect the wetness. Right in front, to the right of the front porch. All righty. We are being completely earth friendly. So rain already.

We need rain. We pray for rain.

O God, in Whom we live and move, and have our being, grant us rain, in due abundance, that, being sufficiently helped with temporal, we may the more confidently seek after eternal gifts. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen.

(Prayer Source: Novena in Honor of St. Isidore: Patron of Farmers by National Catholic Rural Life Conference, National Catholic Rural Life Conference )

We will even dance for rain with the help of some beautiful music.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nao6j-n0nz8

Lightning Storms

I can honestly say I haven't seen a truly amazing lightning storm until I moved to Texas. The closest thing I can remember is a storm I once experienced in Reno, Nevada. It was a vivid storm full of sheet lightning. I thought it was the end of the world. Luckily, it wasn't; but I still remember that storm from more than 30 years ago.

Our first year of living here, it rained all the time. And with the rain, came lightning. I have thing about lightning--it's a love/hate relationship. I love the vividness and beauty of lightning and I hate and fear lightning itself. I'm terrified of being struck. If there is a storm nearby, I have a routine I go through--tv off, lights off, computers off, no listening to IPOD, no taking showers, and going to the bathroom really fast. Ask my hubby and kids, I ususally wind up sitting on my bed and waiting out the storm.

Our house is two stories and that first year of living here when the storms hit I felt like we were in the clouds, literally in the middle of the storm. Lightning was everywhere. Close, far away, bright, soft and completely unpredictable. The storms would last for at least an hour or two. I actually was looking out the window during one storm and saw a bolt hit a transformer at the end of a line of power poles. The line sits to the left side of our house and in the distance I saw a big zig zag of a bolt hit and a green explosion light the sky. The pole next to our house swung back and forth a good three feet. I was terrified that the pole was going to fall into our yard. Thank God, it didn't. But it reinforced what I've always known--lightning is flipping powerful.

It's like a big light show here. My husband always teases me because of the steps I go through when a storm comes into the area. He just didn't think it could or would hit a house. After a recent storm where two houses were hit and caught on fire--he's not so quick to pooh pooh me.

I think I'm always going to have a love/hate relationship with lightning storms. Heck, Texas does everything big here--including storms.

Agasga and Crickets

Agasga is the Cherokee name for rain. That's something we desperately need in South Texas. The first year we moved to Texas (2006) there was so much rain I teased that I was looking around for an Ark. It rained 56+ days in a row. The weather was perfect for breeding critters. We had an invasion of crickets. I mean hundreds, thousands, tons of them everywhere. It was most disgusting. There were everywhere--work, the bank and fast food restaurants. Crawling, creeping and crunching--it was almost enough to make a gal scream.



Flash forward to 2009, and we have heat and drought. We've had more than 37 days of 100 degree or higher heat. Now, I'm used to heat and drought. We had that back in California. I can handle it. It sucks, but I can handle it. At least, it's prettier here than where I used to live. It somehow makes it easier to handle.

I've come to learn in Texas is either feast or famine when it comes to the weather. Jerry and I are trying to become more "green." I bought a rain barrel and we are trying to capture all the rain we can to reuse on the plants. We are keeping the air conditioner at 80 degrees and have acclimated to it. My next step is to stick a bucket as I shower. Any water that winds up in it, goes outside in my plants. We are on Stage 2 on water restrictions. We can only turn on the sprinklers once a week, on a certain day for a certain time. That's it. If we go to Stage 3, we will only be able to water our plants once every two weeks. My yard and plants will die.

We need agasga here....I'm thinking of dancing naked in the back yard to tick off the rain gods. I'm thissss close. lol

Emotions

I had a few experiences over my life where I had an overwhelming emotion and not in the normal context of life. Unexpectedly, I would get a huge flash of an emotion -- hate, fear, comfort. Was it a natural happening chemical reaction in my brain for some reason or was it a sliver in the fabric of communication from the dead?

There is no logic of why, in Virginia City, Nevada in the Mark Twain museum that I should feel that someone just threw a blanket of hate over me. I felt I was being suffocated with hate. For no apparent reason, other than me touching an Indian blanket that was a wedding gift. All I knew is that whatever had happened to that Indian princess who married a rich white businessman in San Francisco, she wasn't happy. I can't explain why I knew that. I just did. The feeling was so powerful that I actually stepped back a couple of feet and sat down on a nearby bench. It was incredibly disorienting.

I can't explain why I felt fearful when my husband and I walked down into the engine room on the Queen Mary in Long Beach, California. I felt fine as we did the walking tour, but as we took the steps down into the engine room, I felt my arms cross over in front of my body in a defensive motion. The room was bright as can be. There were no scary displays. It was just the engine room of what it would look like if the ship were operational.

But there I was, arms crossed, nails biting painfully in the palms of my hand. I felt an overwhelming emotion of fear. I was extremely uncomfortable down there and couldn't pinpoint one reason why. My husband was fine. He was all over the place exploring it. I just knew I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could. I made myself stay down there so not to ruin my husband's fun of exploring, but it was physically painful to stay there. Why? I don't know.

I don't know why some things have happened to me over the years. As I grew up, I didn't know it was something to worry about. There are many episodes now, when looking back, that should have signaled to me I felt things that many people didn't.



One time, during a field trip in elementary school we went to a place called Bower's Mansion in Carson City, Nevada. Even then I loved history. As we entered the mansion, led by our teacher, we were given the typical teacher lecture about the history of the mansion and the people who had it built. A man named Sandy Bowers, who was a silver baron, and his wife Eilley Orum, lived a lavish lifestyle -- for awhile. They wound up going broke. I still remember as we entered into the mansion I stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked upwards. A feeling of discomfort came over me.

It was a bright, sunny day, but I felt chilled. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't want to go upstairs. I moved to the back of the line and did what I could not to go upstairs. I finally had to follow everyone else. It's funny, I went into my "mode" crossing my arms in front of my body and my finger nails digging into my palms. I guess I still do that. Anyway, I never saw anything, but I felt a large sadness. It was a really strong feeling. I knew that whoever lived there was very sad. I know that sounds goofy. Even I felt that was goofy. But that's what I felt. I don't know if I am explaining this correctly, so forgive me if I ramble, but this was bigger than normal feelings. Even at the age I was -- I think I was 8 or 9 years old, I knew it was something different.

We went through the rest of the house, but I didn't feel anything as strong as I did on the second floor. We got to go outside and see the grounds and some of my classmates were laughing and talking about a family cemetery in the back of the house and we were dared who was brave enough to go and check it out. Well, the thing about me is I would do something if I thought others were too scared to do it. (although nothing too stupid or dangerous. LOL) As I went up to the cemetery, with the others following me, I felt a strong emotion again. I was uneasy standing there, but not completely afraid. There were trees around and it was sorta spooky for a bright, spring day. But I just knew something else was around there. Something was watching us. Was it just kids being kids and playing mental games standing at a cemetery? I don't know. Maybe.

But I think I connected with some strong emotions those people must have felt. I was glad when we finally left. I think I have always kept myself closed over the years to being too receptive because I am truly afraid of what might happen if I open myself up. I don't think I really want to work on this thing of mine, if I really do have anything at all. I don't know when it's going to happen and I have absolutely no control over it all. It's strong, but mild if that makes any sense. It sneaks up on me and smacks with its rawness of powerful emotion. The strength of emotions is sort of like someone throwing ice water on you out of the blue.

It does make life interesting at times.

Deer and other critters

If someone were to ask me what was the wildlife you have seen most since you've moved to Texas I'd have to answer--deer. I've never lived at a place where wild animals walk around freely. In California, we had kit foxes that darted through the fields, but they were few and far between. In San Antonio, it's the deer. On two sides of our house we have what they call "greenbelt." It's wild land that won't ever be developed. Sort of like having a small forest around you. This is where the deer live.

They walk wherever they want...sometimes not the best place for them. Some have been hit while crossing the busy streets. That's always sad. To the left of our place, we've seen a herd of six to seven deer. From my son's window we see them nibbling at the plants and calming walking around.

Texas is also the first place where I've seen deer food for sale in the stores. Just like buying bird seed, you can buy deer food. During my walks in the greenbelt I see dry looking niblets of corn that people put out for the deer.

There are many times Jerry and I are driving home after dark and as we drive by a certain road I always warn him to be careful. Deer feel they own the land--I've seen them calmly munching someone's lawn in the dark of night. They saunter around sassy and bold.

Since we have a fence around the back of our yard I'm not bothered by the deer. I've seen everything from young ones to older ones with a rack of horns. Just beautiful, you just hope they don't get hit by a car.

So far, we haven't seen snakes, but our first year here we saw some of the biggest bugs I've ever seen. I kid you not, centipedes the sizes of a ruler. I still get the shivers with that one. I had praying mantis on my wall by my front door that was six inches long. I won't even go into the nest of daddy long legs that resided above my front door for a short while.

Now, we mainly have to lizards that like to live in the ferns on the front porch. I've named them Sherman and Sheba. They dart around when I'm watering the plants.

I can handle the deer and the lizards--you all can have the centipedes. lol

Biking in Texas

Jerry and I have taken up bike riding. We both want to get in shape and it's time. He's picked it up faster than I have. He has a couple of weeks on me as he bought his bike first. He's lost eight pounds and feels stronger. Me, I got whizzy dizzy today and had to stop for awhile. But, that was after a one hour bike ride in almost triple digit heat.

Bike riding in Texas does have its benefits. We bike at a place called McAllister Park in San Antonio. It has 25 miles of trails with part of them paved and part of them not. Trees abound and it's delicious to be biking when it's 103 and a canopy of trees to protect you from the heat. We also see wild deer while riding and squirrels scampering across the path. The place today was full of walkers, runners, bike riders and people out having a great time.



That's me in the distance biking away. We are trying to do at least an hour ride every weekend here. During the week we are riding around our house every other day. Neither one of us wants to burn out or hurt ourselves. It's actually quite fun to ride. I have to be completely honest and say the hills about kill me. I swear, those long, winding inclines make me want to puke. But I am trying to stick with it.

We were watching part of the Tour de France and I have no flipping idea how they do it. Between watching bits and pieces of that event and part of a triathalon held in Hawaii, I've come to the conclusion I'm soooo out of shape. There was a 72 year old woman who not only competed in the triathalon, but finished it. I'd been toast in the swimming. I can't swim worth squat. Never could. But they inspire me. It gives me hope that if I focus, I can do anything.

Of course, I tried to tell that to my body today when I finally had to stop riding. I had a meager breakfast and after an hour of riding I started getting light headed and seeing spots in front of my eyes. Enough. lol It doesn't mean I am going to stop riding. In fact, I'm going to put in a couple of miles tomorrow after work. But I've learned I have to have food on my stomach and some sugar in me.

I'm not sore, as much as tired tonight. It's a good tired. I never thought I'd get back to loving being on bike, but I am.

Am I going through my second childhood?

In Sickness, In Health

One of my creative ramblings.

In Sickness, In Health
by Robin Bailey


January 21, 1992

My dearest Journal.

God, what a cold thing to write to--a journal. I don't like the sound of it. I think maybe I will call it by a person's name. Yes, I think I like that much better. I know. I will think of it as if I am writing a letter to my bestest friend. That is, if I had one. What shall I call her? Elizabeth? No. That sounds so formal and stiff. I don't like it. I know! I will call my journal Sarah. I've always loved that name.

My dearest Sarah,
It's been so long since we've talked last. I've almost forgotten what you look like.

I hate my own name. Ann. Have you ever heard of anything so plain and boring? It's not anything that's like the real me. The real me. No one truly knows the real me, except for Edward. Ah. Edward. Not Eddie, or Ed or any other name for him. It is always Edward.

January 22, 1992

Dear Sarah,
I must tell you about the wonderful vacation we are having. Edward and I are at one of our favorite resorts. It's up in the mountains. Today, we had breakfast together and he went off for a hike while I sit here relaxing. I love days like the one we are having. The view from the resort's porch is quite breathtaking. Sarah, I know you'd love it if you were here. The sky is so clear and the air has the smell of pine cones. I can see the lake from where I sit--the water is so blue it makes your eyes hurt.

The real me. I've always been an adventurious-type of person. I can't even count on both hands all the journeys I've taken to far-off lands. Of course, many of those trips have been between the covers of great and wonderful books. Edward loves my books almost as much as I do. I know one day we're going to take a cruise around the world in 80 days. We will. Edward and me. He's even pinky-promised me. So you know he means it.

March 14,1992

Dear Sarah,
We plan on staying here on an extended vacation, my dearest Sarah. Edward has worked day and night for the past sixteen years so his business would be successful. And it is! We sacrificed for so long and now we are reaping the benefits. God, it is so beautiful here.


Edward works so much. Day and night. Night and day. We go days without seeing each other. But I know my dearest Edward thinks of me. He often tells me so. They say confession is good for the soul. I think I am going to use my journal to confess a few of the mistakes I've made lately. It can't be used against me. And no one will know. I plan on ripping this up as soon as I'm done. But I know I will feel better to write everything down. And I do feel better already.

March 29, 1992

Dear Sarah,
Oh, Sarah. Edward fed me grapes last night. We had such a wonderful evening. We sat underneath the star-filled night sky on our blanket and snuggled, laughed and completely enjoyed ourselves. Many people here say we act like newlyweds. They find it hard to believe that we've been married for 17 years. But we do love each other so. Edward said I was the only woman for him.

Only woman. I have to admit Edward was completely honest with me there. I was the only woman for him. The only problem was, I wasn't quite enough man for him. It's amazing how you can be married to someone for 17 years and never know his true feelings. Actually, Edward isn't gay, he is bisexual, as he explained to me. That was the day he told me he was finally leaving me for his lover. Bob.

What a boring name Bob is. His lover couldn't have an exotic name like Tomas or Sven. No, it was Bob. Not even Robert. But Bob. Bob was a man Edward had known for as long as we'd been married. Balding, paunchy, near-sighted Bob was an accountant. In fact, he was our accountant.

How dull it must be, crunching numbers all day. But this was the great love of Edward's life. he finally realized he'd rather live with Bob than be with me. It's not that he didn't love me, Edward proclaimed as he packed his bags. He just loved Bob more.

April 24, 1992

My dearest Sarah,
Edward and I made love last night as the stars twinkled above us. It was as delicious as lovemaking could be. Edward and I both saw a shooting star. We made a wish and even though I know you aren't supposed to share it outloud, we did. Edward and I share everything. We never keep secrets from each other. Edward said his wish was never to leave my side and to be the kind of husband that I deserved.

Oh Sarah, I started crying at that point. I hugged Edward and told him he already was the husband that I deserved. He is so perfect, so handsome, so devoted. I told him my wish was for that night to never end. I know we are always going to be as happy as we are tonight.

I wasn't mad when Edward left. I guess I should have been, but for some reason I wasn't. I sat there on my favorite oversized chair, my latest book clutched against my chest and wondered what I would do about dinner. Should I make a sandwich or go out and get something to eat.

I knew Edward would come back to me. I had complete faith that he was just going through a mid-life crisis. This was his way of sowing his wild oats or something. Edward loved me. He always did and always will. I know he will come back. Bob couldn't love him the way that I do. No one loves Edward as much as I do. I'd die for Edward. Bob wouldn't. For God's sake, Bob is an accountant! All he cares about are numbers. Edward would come to his senses. We have a life to share together--until the end of time. In sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer .. and the rest of the wedding vow mumbo-jumbo.

May 1, 1993

Dear Sarah,
Edward was so funny this morning. Before he left for his daily hike he ate a huge breakfast. I am amazed tht a man as trim and handsome as he, can eat so much and not gain an ounce. I eat one piece of chocolate and I instantly gain five pounds. I am a very lucky woman to be married to such a wonderful man. Edward brought me a single long-stemmed rose when he came to breakfast. He handed it to me and kissed me. He said the beauty of the rose barely matched my own beauty. Oh, how my heart fluttered. Edward is such a sweet-talker. It's a shame you two haven't met. I know you are busy with your life half-way around the world. One day we must get together so you can meet my knight-in-shining armor. I know you'd love him as much as I do. Maybe now that Edward has retired we can plan a trip to Cairo and visit you. Oh, wouldn't that be devine! I must talk to him about that as soon as he gets back.


Edward slammed the door in my face telling me that he wasn't coming back to me. He said if I didn't leave him and Bob alone he was going to call the cops. The police. Yeah, right. Edward woudn't do that. He loved me. He's just going through a phase. He wasn't happy with Bob. I could tell. His face was tired looking and definately looked unhappy when we talked. He'd be coming home soon. I knew he would.

July 4, 1994

Dear Sarah,
What a simply wonderful holiday Edward and I shared. The fireworks in the sky were almost as dazzling as the ones he and I shared from our beach cabana. yes, dear heart we are now in Tahiti. We have our own private beach. We've made love so many times I've lost count. There must be something in the tropical air! I've managed to achieve a little bit of a tan. You know how I usually burn and peel, but I think the sun down here is much better for my pale skin. Edward says I have quite a glow about me. What a fantastic man he is. I am so very lucky.

As I started to leave the ritzy apartment building Edward shared with his boring Bob I saw a familiar face. Bob was crossing the street and heading straight for me.

Without a second thought I hid behind a huge ficus tree in the lobby. Bob entered the building and headed for the elevator. He never even saw me. But I saw him. He wasn't so hot to look at. I don't know what Edward saw in him. Bob's off-white pants were wrinkled. He wore an army green polo shirt that stuck to his back in the summer heat. His thinning salt and pepper hair hung down in strings from his sweaty, bald head.

I don't know what made me do it. I walked up to him and stabbed him in the back with my paring knife. You know, the knife Edward gave me last Christmas. Remember, he gave me silverware in a really beautiful pattern as my present.

Now one saw me do it. Bob slumped and I quickly removed my knife. The door opened and I pushed Bob into the empty elevator. He never even saw me. He landed face down onto the hard floor. The red stain was spreading across his back. It turned his green polo shirt a muddy color. I smiled as I put the knife in my pocket.

Edward would come home now. I wondered as I left the building if I would have time to stop by the grocery store and buy a couple of steaks. There's nothing Edward likes better than a rare steak, except maybe making love to me.

September 4, 1995

My dearest Sarah,
Time has seemed to stand still. Edward and I are sailing around the world in our sailboat. We have visited many islands and countries. We are having a great time. We spend our time eating, sleeping, and making love.

I can't remember the last time I even worried about being somewhere. We are so lazy nowadays. I sit around and sunbathe while Edward sails the boat. We fit together so well, my dear friend. We will reach your home one day.


The overweight nurse quietly pushed the medicine cart down the sterile hallway. There weren't that many noises this time of night. Most patients were peacefully sleeping the Darvon and Percodan-type of sleep one would expect in a mental hospital.

The nurse, known as Sarah, entered room 113 with a careful step. This particular patient has been convicted of killing a man. Nurse Sarah was always wary when entering this room. They didn't pay her enough to risk her own life with a crazy killer.

With a gentle shake, nurse Sarah woke up Mrs. Tilton. "Here you go hun, take your medicine and go back to sleep."

A sleepy-faced old woman accepted the pills and gratefully swallowed. Her head falling back to a soft pillow, a smile on her wrinkled face, a book clutched to her chest.

Nurse Sarah shook her head, and felt sorry for the crazy woman who always had her nose in a book and never quite connected with reality. She guessed that's what happened when you were locked up in a mental hospital for 15 years and never had any visitors.

©1995 Robin Bailey

Sweetened versus Unsweetened

Some things aren't going to change just because I moved to San Antonio. One of them being I just don't dig drinking tea and I never have. Growing up with my four siblings and parents, I was the only one who hated it. I was the freak. In fact, I'm probably being sacrilegious by saying that I think tea sucks.

Tea is big here. They sell it in restaurants by the cup, pitcher and gallon. I kid you not. Now, my husband--he loves the tea. Me. Ugh. It is what it is...if I'm going to drink something with my meal it will be soda or booze. lol

What Texas offers that I haven't seen offered before (I hear it's a Southern thing) was the choice in restaurants of Sweetened Tea or Unsweetened Tea. In California, when you order tea it's always unsweetened and you add your own sweetener--whether it's sugar, or the fake stuff. The first time I got offered Sweet Tea I thought I'd try it out. For me, it's still an ughhhh. There is just no kick to it. I like my drinks to have a bite, a kick or a whoop ass.

My husband chooses his tea unsweetened. The sweetened tea is just too sweet for him. This is a man who has used the fake stuff for years. But now, he drinks the unsweet tea with nothing added. His taste buds have changed since he came here. I think that's a good thing for him to not use the fake stuff.

I've never seen the volume of tea drinkers as I have here in San Antonio. They are definately a different breed of people. Apparently, there is never a bad time to drink the stuff. I wouldn't be surprised if someone made ice cream out of the stuff. They love it here that much.

I think I will stick to the only ice tea I really enjoy to drink--a well made Long Island.

Tacos in Texas

I thought I knew what tacos were before I moved to Texas. It meant food from Taco Bell, my favorite Mexican restaurant or the ones you made at home from the yellow box. But, I was so wrong. It wasn't until we moved to Texas that I learned what real tacos should taste like--and it's not "yo quiero Taco Bell."

Texas takes taco making and taco eating to a whole new level. The first thing I was introduced to was breakfast tacos. Okay, wipe out the image of Sonic's or McDonald's breakfast tacos right out of your mind. They take cardboard to a whole new level. Texas breakfast tacos are almost a religious experience.

The foundation of a Texas taco starts with homemade tortillas. That's right. Homemade. Fast food restaurants here make their tortillas from scratch. How do I know that? I see them plop out of the machine and right on the grill. Just as Krispey Kreme lets you see how their donuts are made, so do many Texas fast food restaurants. But even if you can't see them making it, it's easy to tell the difference between store bought and made from scratch. Taste a Texas flour tortilla and you'll never be the same again. Soft, substantial, light and tasty, these tortillas are good enough on their own to eat with a little bit of butter and nothing else.

The breakfast tacos here are filled with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, fried potatoes, ham, refried beans, cheese, Carne Guisada or brisket. That's right. Brisket. I bet you used to think that Brisket was something just for lunch or dinner. Not so. Texas takes its barbecue quite seriously (that's for another blog lol) and it's even hit the breakfast menus.

And what's strange is that it's not strange to eat brisket for breakfast. In fact, it's might tasty and quite affordable. For under four bucks you get a couple of tacos and some caffeine and you are set for the day.Tacos are eaten from morning to night in Texas. Fillings include fish, shrimp, chicken, beef, pork, vegetarian and everything else in between.

You get so spoiled here. Store bought tortillas will never be in your shopping basket once you've eaten the real stuff. I've even gone through the drive through at one of our local Mexican fast food restaurants and ordered flour tortillas to go (they sell them by the dozen here). I then went home and made my own enchiladas using their tortillas. Oh yeah, baby. Tacos in Texas--it's an experience you have to have first hand to truly understand.

Being Polite is Part of Being Texan

I'm an adopted Texan. About two and a half years ago, my husband and I decided to sell our house, pack up all we own (and everything we still owe on) and move to San Antonio. We had no home, no family nearby and most importantly,--no job waiting for us. We moved cold turkey. Most would ask, "What the hell are you doing?" I know my husband asked me that more than once.

I just knew it was the right time to make a change. We both had ties to Texas in various ways. His grandmother was born in Texas. One of his great grandfathers is buried up in the panhandle. Three of my older siblings were born in El Paso when my Dad was in the service. So, we've heard stories about the state over the years. (We pictured Texas as being full of rattlesnakes, sagebrush and big skies, but that's another blog. lol)

What made us truly pack up and move was the price of housing. Only someone living in California can truly understand the value of a purchasing a new home with more than 3,100 square feet for a mere $200,000. It was a dream come true. Of course, to do this we had to move thousands of miles from everything we knew. We had to leave behind all family and friends and somehow find a job. But we did it.

And we bought that house, with escrow closing in only one week. If that wasn't destiny I don't know what to call it. We love the house, the neighborhood and yes, we both got jobs.

The first thing I noticed when we moved to Texas, (besides the affordable housing) was how polite everyone was--no matter where you were. Work, shopping, and even fast food restaurants--we heard a lot of "Yes, ma'am, " or "Thank you, sir." A smile almost always greets us wherever we go. At first, it was quite unnerving. I kept wondering what the person's secret agenda was--my Mama didn't raise me a fool. But, no agenda. Go figure? People are just polite here. I found myself picking up the habits. Especially at work, I would find myself responding to people, "Yes, ma'am." "No, sir." and I meant it. If I had done that back in California they would have thought I was from another planet.

The longer you live here, the more you get manners. Now, that's not saying there aren't idiots here, because they are still around. But, on the whole, most people will treat you mighty nice. You start to feel you are a better person because of it. Having manners actually feels nice.

I think I like it.