Conoco Phillips Rodeo Run -- running through downtown Houston with 12,000 others

After 3 years of many baby steps, and very gradually working up to this, this old body accomplished the impossible -- my first ever 5 K (3 miles) race.  My goal was to do the entire race without walking or stopping, which I did.  My time was 35 minutes, nothing to brag about --- but it was so so much fun. I got a big kick out of seeing how many people half my age I could catch up with and pass.  I started way near the back, figuring I'd be one of the really, really slow ones, but ended up in at least the upper third of the group.

It was fun doing this event with Walter and Jessica. They ran the 10K, something that seems to me so hard to do. Maybe, when I'm 70, I'll give that one a try (that would be in the wheelchair division).

Jump for joy!

I know. It doesn't look like we're jumping on the trampoline. But Ava and I are merrily bouncing away  in a grammy/3 year old little girl  way.  It was a beautiful day last Saturday, to head out to the country and visit some sweet little grandkids.

These eyes!

With these eyes, I watched Neil Armstrong take mankind's  first steps on the moon. On that muggy night in July 1969, we huddled around our black and white T.V. set. I was a college student home for the summer. It was an incredibly magic moment, when the impossible became a reality.

With his eyes, he looked upon the dark, rough terrain of the moon. From where he stood, feet firmly planted in moon dust, he saw the earth, a perfect blue ball that could fit in the palm of his hand.

When I went in for my annual eye exam yesterday, I found out that Neil Armstrong and I have something in common!  Our eyes!  Every year, Dr. Bruce Cline is amazed that I don't need reading glasses, that my eyes can still focus on the printed page unaided. He said, "I don't think you realize what an unusual thing this is for someone your age (62)". He went on to say that in all his years of practice he had only one other patient with eyes like mine -- Neil Armstrong! I guess I should feel honored. "Do I get some sort of award for this?" I asked him. "Well, maybe I'll just brag about it on my blog," I told him. 

I am the luckiest!

Before doing this post, I had to sneak a heart shaped chocolate (dark chocolate, of course).
What is Valentine's Day without chocolate and those we love?   I am lucky to have been loved and cherished by a dear, sweet father who has passed on.  I'll never forget the Valentine's Day he sent me this beautiful bunch of roses to tell me how much he loves me.

 

Check out the latest on my father's life story here.

I'm also the luckiest to be loved and cherished by this guy for 36 years.  Happy Valentine's Day to all my loves, wherever you are!

Valentine's Day Memories -- the Valentine Box

How many of my generation suffered psychological damage because of this elementary school Valentine's Day traditon?

Shortly before Valentine's Day, a large, decorated box magically appeared on the teacher's desk.  We could hardly concentrate on our school work, anticipating the day when each child would recieve his/her share of the cards that were placed in the box throughout the week. Back in the 1950's we weren't told we had to give a card to every kid in the class. We made one out for the teacher, and then only to the kids we "liked".  Kids nervously chewed on their pencil erasers as the teacher slowly walked up and down the aisles, doling out the precious cards.

 Would I be one of the "popular", or at least "liked" kids? I knew that the pretty girl with the curly blond hair, saddle shoes, and full, swishy skirt, supported by layers of starched petticoats, would get the most cards.  Where did I stand? Would I get enough cards so I wouldn't feel like a reject?  Somehow I did, and I could hold my head up high. But I felt guilty stealing a glance at a sullen boy hanging his head over  two or three cards.
Many years later, I breathed a big sigh of relief when my first kindergartener came home with a note telling parents to make out valentine's cards for all the kids in her class.  Times had changed for the better in that respect.

still raising a kid....

TaTa, the baby of the family, the last of eight kids, the child of our old age...I feel sorry for him that he lives life as an only child, his older brothers and sisters married or away at college.  Life must be pretty boring living with an old grandpa and grammy. He is the focus of our daily attention. He must feel like a bug under a microscope. Poor kid.  He doesn't even get spoiled. He drives around in a beat up Chevy pick-up truck with a busted out side mirror.  He has to be in by 11:00p.m. on the weekend. Parenting an "only child" presents different challenges. We do have our "moments".

 So I'm grateful for the wonderful women's conference the church put on last weekend.  Randall Wright, an author,speaker, and teacher (who is also related to son-in-law Walter) reminded us that as parents, we are coaches. Our kids are on scholarships (they've been given everything), and so there are expectations.  The secret of good coaching is to have clearly defined rules (and consequences)and high expectations along with good relationships (lots of positives -- hugs, "I love you's"). With teenagers, there are many times you don't "like" them or what they do, but they must feel our unconditional love. 

 What's not to love about the baby of the family?

February in my backyard

The big freeze in January left its mark in my yard.  My "taller than an avatar" avocado tree (15 ft.) that I grew from a seed is looking bad. My beautiful blue flowered plumbago bushes look dead too. Hope they both come back to life in the spring.

But all isn't doom and gloom. Many plants here in south Texas thrive in the cold and were unaffected the unusually hard freeze we had. My holly bushes produced their biggest crop of berries. My fall veggie garden, which was totally unprotected during the freeze, is still producing. That's south Texas for you.