Nature almost struck

Coming back to Highlands after dinner on Saturday I saw a snake disappear into the barn, right across from the door to the trailer.  "Snake" I yell.  "I think its just a rat snake though".  Mark:  "Oh yeah?  Where is it?  You mean this one in here?  RATTLING it's tail and coiling up like it's about to strike?!"  Oops - Yeah, I guess that's the one. Ten tense minutes, much yelling at Mark not to get bit, and a sharp hoe blade later

and Mr. Snake met his untimely end.

I'm kinda not in the mood for all this nature.  It's their land, not mine. They know all the hiding places and have the best defense weapons. We are the ones who allowed the mice to find a cozy home in the barn with the damn birdseed.  Mark and I are sorely outnumbered, possibly outsmarted.  And holy hell, I'm not ready to retire to Snake Hill!

Tom

 My brother in law passed a few weeks ago.  Tom, married to Mark's sister Sharon. 

 

At Mark's college apartment, 1984

 Though they were technically old enough to be our parents, we thought of them as just slightly older than us since they were young at heart.  Sharon and Tom took me under their wings and made me part of the family. 

At Mark's college graduation with his aunt Aagot and Uncle Ken, 1984

 Visiting us at our first apartment in Austin.

 At a UT football game - one of Tom's passions.

I was never all that close with Tom - he was a reserved kind of guy - but Mark was, and since I loved Sharon, I thought of Tom as family.  We visited them several times in Dallas while we were in college, then when the time came to marry, Mark chose Tom as his best man.

 The Best Man, 1985

  Once we had a couple of kids, we weren't seeing them often as they lived in Dallas and we in Austin.  We were poor, working full time, had our hands full with small children.  And by the time we had Baby #3 and Baby #4, we had gone through many changes in life.  We drifted from them and their two kids, who seemed to grow up in a blink .  Fast forward to 2015 and Sharon passed. A hop, skip, and a jump, and Tom followed.

Tom and Sharon, with Bryan and Paige

Tom and Sharon at Rustown, 2012

We were separated by so many things, and it was apparent  this last weekend at his funeral. I know a lot of folks want to give you advice to tell the people you love that you love them and spend more time with them while they are alive, but it doesn't always work out that way.  But I will hang on to all of the happy memories and speak their names with love.  

Loyal

You could argue that Mark should help my mother in any way, seeing as he is her son-in-law.  But this is the same woman who asked me if I was sure I wanted to marry him, because after all, Gina "you are a pretty girl".  In the background was my sister, bobbing her head in agreement.  I guess I've always had a stubborn streak, because I ignored them and went on ahead with my wedding plans.  Over the years my mother has softened, as she has come to know him.  But that doesn't mean there weren't some rough spots.

She was hyper-critical of him when he declined to be the administrator of her will.  And she roasted him over the coals pretty good when he broke (and immediately fixed) a picket in her fence by running into it with her riding lawn mower.  Recently he accompanied me to my mother's house and did the jobs I couldn't do:  rebuilding an asparagus bed and getting her computer up and running.  Prior to that, he has done many other similar odd jobs involving either yard work or home repair or computer work or insurance assistance.  He treats my mother with respect and love.  He's the son she never had.  A good husband and father for the last 33 years.  A kind and generous man who loves me no matter what and encourages me in my moral responsibility to her.  A loyalist on all fronts.  I hope someday she gets the chance to tell him how glad she is that he is in our lives.

Dream feelings #2 - wheels on the bus

Another restless night, another very freaky dream.

My mother came to me about something she left at a doctor's office. Some sensitive medical information.  The doctor had it and I had to retrieve it.  Turns out it was a string of sorts, but information.  Then it becomes more substantial as I look at it - it was made of cloth - a shirt?  Multi-colored plaid and woven,  with what I think is decorative stitching coming out.  Mother seems distressed about it.  As I am trying to handstitch it, I realize I am doing a poor job and must start over.  It becomes a dress, Mother disappears.  I need to finish it as soon as possible because one of my kids needs it for a field trip they are going on in a few minutes.  Hurry!  I get on the school bus to give it to my kid - turns out it is Grayson and he is small, maybe around 3 or four.  The bus is going to NYC.  The principal is telling everyone that they cannot go to a big store or someplace that she promised them, so the kids are standing in clusters around teachers, being comforted, including my kid, although I am still on the bus as it is pulling away and the bus driver will not let me off.  I don't have my purse or phone or money or even shoes.  I am pleading with her to let me off, but she won't stop the bus.  She says she can't because there is someone tailgating her.  I am suddenly in the back of the bus, poking my leg out of the open back, pushing on the car behind us.  Its a delivery truck and the driver of it is just starring at me.  There is no glass in his windshield.  I am screaming stop the bus!  But it won't, and no one is listening.  I start sobbing and place my hand on my stomach to steady myself as I cry.  But I realize the hand is not mine - its the man that is driving the truck behind us, and he has reached into the bus.  I push his hand away and the bus arrives in NYC.  All of the kids clamor off the bus with the teachers - we have arrived at the place that the principal said  they weren't going to - surprise!  I never do connect with Grayson - off he goes with someone else.  I am standing in a room of teachers - no kids - the principal is like some kind of ceremonial person conducting what?  A meeting?  She is wearing a turban and flowing clothes.  The dream ends.

So much despair in this dream.  Images of losing things.  Being someplace I don't want to be and ill-equipped to deal with it.  Rushing, trying to fix things, not being heard. 

Verti-go-go

I was toodling along IH35 at highway speed when it started.  That feeling came over me, like an aura, then all at once everything jerked to one side.

I felt a little panicky, not gonna lie.  I knew exactly what was happening.  I griped the steering wheel and stiffened up, repeating over and over out loud  "No.  Not right now."

I started talking to myself like I was an observer of myself - "Put your hazard lights on.  Slow your speed.  Get over to the right as soon as you can, very carefully.  Pull into the first driveway to the right.".  I missed a couple of driveways, but once I felt like I was going slow enough, I found one and pulled into a shady spot.

Then I called work and told them I would be late, but I was very close by and would call when I got there. I sat there at least an hour, pretty much trapped in the car.  I opened the sunroof for air and leaned back in the seat.  Trying to breathe deep and not cry.  Hoping no one would come along and tell me to get out of the parking lot.

And gradually the world stopped spinning, and I made my way in to the hospital about 5 minutes away.  A little foggy headed still.  But alive.  And with resolve to do those habituation exercises daily.

bug bites

 I'm not a country girl, and I don't know much about surviving out there, but I will have to learn.

We spent the weekend at Highlands, working on the pumphouse shower, mowing, and collecting prickly pear fruit.  In the middle of the night Sunday I woke up with crazy itching on my feet!  The next day, when I got out of the car at the grocery store, the itching was driving me nuts.  I looked down and saw a war zone of bug bites.  Either chiggers or fire ants - both rampant out there.

Scratching them feels good for about 10 seconds, then the pain intensifies!  I thought I sprayed myself pretty well with Cutter, and I assumed since my feet were mostly enclosed, they were safe.  But when I switched to flip flops, I didn't spray again.  My bad.   Every now and then I think I'm not cut out for country life.  I like civilization, indoor plumbing, and all the conveniences.  I don't consider things like critters and bugs.  So when stuff like this happens, it seems like a painful learning curve.

Single, with dog

The worry about your kids doesn't stop when they get grown.  It just changes shape a bit.

I figured that once they were all settled in to their adult lives, all would be well.  After all, it's fair to say that Mark and I worked hard to raise four kids. Adolescence strained the limits of our parenting knowledge.  So we figured once we got them to the edge of the nest, they would fly.  And little did I realize that leaving the nest is not always a simple a transition.

  I myself could not WAIT to get the hell out on my own. I knew my mother was proud of me and loved me, but I was ready to have my own space that was clean, and calm, and mine.  I was OK with being alone for the most part - but I wasn't really alone because I did have Mark.  

Chloe has Teddy.  And while he is a source of love and comfort to her, he is after all, a dog.  He can't hold conversations or her hand after a long day.  He can't help pay the bills.  Come pick her up when her car dies.  Make dinner a couple nights a week.  Or share the burden of laundry and apartment cleaning.  And Chloe is now 26, so I worry that she is settling permanently into this single, alone life. I know it's not my life to live, but I worry just the same.

At the end of the day, I just want to know that she is happy and doing what she wants to do.  But I also want her future to be full of more than just Teddy.