Jack and Jill

On July 29, 2015July 31, 2015 By DGThomaIn Exercise, Friends, Humor/Light Hearted4 Comments

fell down a hill….

Saturday morning, 4:30 AM and my eyes are open. What’s wrong with this picture? In the background, I hear the faint sound of the music from the alarm. Grudgingly my feet hit the floor and I am semi-vertical. To avoid the extreme Texas heat, our weekly running group meets at 5:45 AM for a 6:00 AM run. We have to be in the car before 5:00 AM to arrive on time.

Pulling on my running clothes and grabbing a bagel for breakfast, my husband and I made it out the door and were on the road by 4:50 AM. For some reason, I just didn’t feel like showing up, but shrugged it off. I mean after all who would want to get up at 4:45 AM on their day off to go for a long run!

Driving through Manor, TX at 5:00 AM, the last thing either of us wanted to see were flashing red and blue lights. A very nice man in uniform introduced himself as a county sheriff, and informed us our right headlight was out. With a warning ticket in hand, I asked Ron if he was sure he didn’t just want to go back home and go to bed. He just grinned at me and pulled back into traffic.

We actually made it on time and headed for a quick bio break at the restrooms provided by our running group. As we walked toward them we were warned, someone had forgotten to lock them the prior night and they were so soiled they were virtually unusable. Great!

Undeterred, we each found our running mates and lined up in the pre-dawn muggy heat, ready to do a 6 mile run. I was scheduled for 14 miles for the day, so I was looking forward to an extra 8 miles after the group run.

We all synchronized our watches and set off, settling into an easy rhythm. The first few miles went by pretty fast although there were a lot of uphills. I told my coach I was ready for some downhills. Pretty soon, every downhill someone would call out, “Here’s a downhill for Deanna!” Around mile 4, we turned down a particularly hilly road where the slopes were quite a bit steeper. I was enjoying an especially steep downhill, feeling like I was riding a Radio Flyer red wagon. My right shoe hit a patch of gravel and suddenly I knew I was going down. I’ve run a lot of years and have never fallen, but it was happening!

My right hand hit the asphalt first followed by my elbow, hip and knee. As I slid a few feet down the hill, I managed to avoid hitting my head or tumbling head over heels. Completely mortified, I tried to jump up as blood dripped from my right palm and elbow. Everyone gathered round and offered assistance as they returned my possessions. Some one had my phone, another runner had found my Jawbone and someone else returned my water. Everything had flown along with me and been scattered when I hit the pavement.

After the shock wore off, I walked a few blocks and decided I was not significantly injured and finished my run. I actually caught back up with part of my group and finished.

This afternoon I still had swelling and bruising from my wrist to my elbow, so I ducked into an urgent care center for x-rays and a tetanus shot. Good news – nothing is broken, only sprained. The only down side is a splint and a late blog post.

Not too bad after all!

The Phone Rings…..

On July 22, 2015 By DGThomaIn Humor/Light Hearted, Musings, WritingLeave a comment

How often does that happen anymore? It is rare for me to receive a call. I keep a house phone simply for the convenience of the answering machine. I give out my home number when I am asked for one by a business or individual I’m not familiar with.

Every month, on my cell phone invoice the minutes used are minimal. Everyone I know texts. My daughter and one of my sisters are both great at calling. And my dad, one of my aunt’s, my granddaughter….. Ok, maybe it’s a few more people than I first thought.

When my cell phone rings, it’s like getting a call in the middle of the night. I immediately picture chaos and mayhem.

Tonight, as I was leaving work my cell phone rang. Halfway down the stairs, I began to shift my lunch bag so I could dig through the suitcase I call a purse in search of the vibration tingling my hip. Just as I pulled it free from the tangle of phone chargers, lipstick etc., it stopped ringing.

I smiled when I saw it was my sister. I immediately returned the call. She answered and said, “Hey, I haven’t talked to you in a while and wanted to see how you are doing.” Then she waited for an answer and actually listened for a response.

It was an amazing thing! A real conversation, listening, talking and listening some more. How lovely is that!

With a smile on my face and well caught up on the family news, I said goodbye to my sister and tossed the phone back into my purse. Immediately, I felt it vibrate once again.

This time it was my daughter. After a too brief conversation, I hung up smiling even more broadly and declared it to be “The Night of Phone Calls!”

A lovely surprise which I highly recommend! Maybe I should try it myself occasionally!

Pick a Little, Talk a Little…….

Aunt Marge

On July 15, 2015 By DGThomaIn Family, TravelLeave a comment

My aunts have always been very important to me. My mother was the oldest of seven children, six girls and one boy. My aunts Ruth, Carol and Myrna died too young as did my Uncle Gary. But, my mother, Aunt Helen and Aunt Marge were constants in my young adult life.

Aunt Marge only lived an hour away when we I was a child so we visited her more regularly.

In fact, when my daughter was born, it was Marge, and my cousins Lois and Stan that delivered me to the hospital. My labor pains kept getting closer and closer and my cousin Stan drove faster and faster. I was afraid of going to the hospital too soon and being sent home as “a false alarm” so I almost waited too long to go. For eleven miles, I bemoaned increasingly closer and harder pains while everyone assured me it would probably be all night before she was born.

Not so! Less than one and a half hours after arriving at the hospital, my daughter and first child graced us with her arrival. By the time I was checked in and assigned a room, I was sure it was time. The nurses fussed at me, telling me to be calm, but Marge asked them to check me anyway.

When the nurses realized my daughter was actually attempting to exit on her own, they slapped a gas mask on me and we rushed to delivery. She was born just as we passed through the doors even though the doctor and nurses weren’t quite ready. By the way my daughter is still going full force and showing no signs of slowing. The interesting thing is she was born on August 2^nd at around 8:30 pm, just 3 ½ hours before my Aunt Marge’s birthday, August 3^rd. In spite of my Aunt’s insistence that I should wait until after midnight, my daughter had other ideas.

But back to my Aunt Marge. Whenever we visited, she would always cook our favorite foods. When I was younger, I loved her hotcakes and hot cocoa. The pancakes were the size of a dinner plate and the hot cocoa was chocolatey, buttery yumminess! When my children were born they each developed their own favorites. My daughter loved her chili beans and my son loved her fried potatoes. She would always make chili beans and fried potatoes when we visited. No matter how I made those dishes, they just never seemed to be as good as my Aunt’s.

Southern Fried Potatoes

I love the memories of playing Wahoo with my cousins while listening to our Mom’s laugh and giggle as only sisters can. I cherish those memories of sitting in the floor, listening to the sound of the dice skitter across the wooden board surrounded by the warmth of family.

A Change of Plans…

On July 8, 2015 By DGThomaIn Family, Food, Friends, Humor/Light Hearted, Musings, Travel, Writing5 Comments

July 4, 2015… Well it actually started July 2^nd.

When my Dad called to say he wanted to come for a visit, we decided to rent a cabin for a couple of nights at the lake. Knowing the cabins would fill quickly over the 4^th of July, we made reservations months ago. My dad loves to fish, which is obvious from his nickname “Fishhook”. We made sure to get a waterfront cabin so he could fish as much as he wanted. I’m not a fan of water and I don’t have the heart to go fishing, but Dad loves it!

In anticipation of our time together, we postponed our Father’s Day celebration. We decided to celebrate Father’s day and my birthday together. (my birthday falls on the 6^th of July).

My daughter, Kat planned to swing by and pick up the boys, (my grandson’s) and my Dad. They all live about six hours away and although Dad is perfectly capable of driving here himself, at 82 I hate for him to be on the road.

We reserved the cabin for Thursday night and Friday night. We planned to drive to Corpus to see my older sister Saturday morning. She and I share a birthday even though we are three years apart. My Dad wanted to visit both of us on our birthday. Rarely do she and I have an opportunity to spend time together and it’s been years since Dad was able to join us on our birthday.

As often happens, our plans went awry. The boys had rehearsals for their community theater production and couldn’t get away. Dad lost his critter sitter and didn’t want to leave his dogs. He was also feeling a bit under the weather.

We thought about cancelling the trip and just gathering at home, but decided against it. The cabin was only 20 minutes or so from our house, but tucked away among the trees and nestled on the bank of the lake made it feel worlds apart.

We left for the cabin on Thursday, picking up my goddaughter, Dez and my son, Rich on the way. Dez, loves to fish and had eagerly anticipated fishing with my Dad. Rich on the other hand has never really enjoyed fishing as much as his sister does. My daughter was bringing her fishing gear and planned to arrive Thursday evening. She and Dez would be our fisherwomen for the weekend.

The cabin was very basic. It had five beds, an air conditioner and a trail leading to a shared shower and restroom facility. It also had a beautiful view of the lake, fresh air, an outdoor grill and a picnic table.

During the weekend we played games, rented a canoe, ate too much food and created unbelievable memories. My son discovered an enjoyment of fishing (much to his surprise), my daughter discovered a slug in her tennis shoe and a June bug in her swimsuit cover-up and my granddaughter, Jilly discovered a beetle in her nightshirt.

I discovered the delight of sitting in the middle of a canoe, lightly rowing and watching my Kat and Dez cast their lines. We laughed so hard trying to launch the canoe we almost didn’t get in the water. Even when the wind picked up and the rain fell, we laughed and fished and rowed.

Father’s Day was celebrated on Thursday night. We celebrated my birthday on Friday night, with Kat and Jilly surprised me with a cake and everyone sang happy birthday.

Saturday morning we were supposed to leave by noon but no one was ready to leave. Anticipating failure, but deciding to try anyway, my husband went to see if we could stay another night. Our cabin was already booked but the one next door was available. Rather than make us move, they switched the other guests next door. After a wonderful breakfast and lunch, my husband and I went to pick up a fresh bundle of firewood from the front office. When we arrived, they let us know the family that was originally booked in our cabin was insisting that we move and give them our cabin.

Since our reservation had been impromptu and it seemed to be important to the other family, we willing agreed to move. I rushed into the cabin to interrupt the current game in process and let everyone know we were moving. We had 5 beds stripped, suitcases moved, dishes and food transitioned and all our outdoor gear moved in about 15 minutes. By the time the new guests arrived we were already seated in our chairs next door planning our dinner meal.

I decided that if we ever have to go on the run or leave in a hurry, we definitely have the skills! Slightly sunburned, a few pounds heavier and a heart full of sunshine, we went our separate ways. It was a wonderfully fulfilling weekend with many stories left to tell…. Like the raccoon and the hotdogs and the snake in the reeds…. All stories for another day.

Under the Peach Tree

On July 1, 2015 By DGThomaIn Family, Food, Gardening, Humor/Light Hearted, Writing1 Comment

It might be an aroma or a quick glimpse of something that triggers a memory snippet. For me, it is often a smell. Fresh bread baking immediately finds me standing in the school cafeteria with a tray in my hand waiting for a delicious hot yeast roll to land beside my mashed potatoes.

Last night, I was in the kitchen putting away groceries, when my husband placed a bag on the counter. It was a bag of fresh Fredericksburg peaches. They had been picked three days earlier. Without moving closer to the bag I began to smell the peaches. Not the ones on the counter, but the fresh ripe peaches hanging from the limbs of the two peach trees which grew in my childhood backyard.

The smell of those peaches brought a kaleidoscope of memories. In the heat of the day, my mother would send me out to pick a few peaches. She sliced the warm peach in half, removed the pit and poured cold evaporated milk over the peach before sprinkling it liberally with granulated sugar. I think she invented sweetened condensed milk long before Eagle Brand marketed it!

I can’t even remember how it tasted, but I remember the anticipation and the contrast of the warm peach against the cold milk. Yum! I haven’t thought of eating those cream soaked peaches in years. My husband has brought in peaches countless times and laid them on the counter. I’m not sure why yesterday triggered the memory, but I’m glad it did.

It made me think of my Mom and smile. A momentary sadness tugged at my heart as I miss those days with my mother but it was soon replaced by happy memories.

My thoughts followed the path to other memories of time spent around and under the peach tree. My friends from next door would stop by and we would sit under those two trees. We invented fairy tale worlds and planned our future. You know important stuff, like who would we sit by next year in school and how would we fill our days next week.

I also thought about my mother telling me to behave or she would switch my legs with a peach tree limb. Now those trees had thin pliable limbs that could sting like fire. Not that I would know! The threat of having to go cut a peach tree limb and bring it back to my mom was enough to keep me on the straight and narrow. I’m pretty sure I was never spanked with one, but I remember the dread well.

After dinner last night, I pulled a peach from the bag on the counter. I rinsed the peach and bit into the crisp fruit. As juice dribbled down my chin, I closed my eyes. For the moment I was ten years old, sitting beneath the peach tree, playing make believe with my siblings.