The Texas Woman

Saddle up...

2011-08-20T13:18:00.000-05:00

...up on the wall, that is.

This championship saddle was found at - where else - a garage sale. It was their grandpa's and they were tired of hauling it from house to house with every move they made. They had long ago cut the stirrups off for easier storage.

I saw a saddle mounted like this in a sales brochure once. They wanted well over a thousand dollars for it. For fifteen dollars I knew I had to try duplicating it. I burned out the motor of my jig saw and broke two jig blades and three hacksaw blades, but I finally had two separate pieces of saddle. I felt like a doctor just out of surgery.

Then I lined a frame with barnwood, built a shelf and covered it with burlap and the green saddle blanket, then screwed the saddle from the back onto the barnwood. The saddle was then lined with old rope to cover defects, and we hung our 3-D piece among other works of art behind the couch.

This piece is great for a western house. My challenge to you is to think of other things that can be cut in two and mounted in a frame for 3-D art.

Linked Up to Funky Junk Interiors.

Like a Phoenix

2011-06-01T08:47:00.007-05:00

Just like the song says, what a difference a day makes, 24 little hours.

When we last left the McDebt McMansion site Monday evening, this was our view - a nice slab of concrete with some iron work for porches.

What we were greeted with upon arrival Tuesday evening made me gasp with pleasure. The McDebt McMansion, like a phoenix, rises!

In one day - ONE DAY - the whole first floor sprang into the air, although I doubt if the crew that worked on it in the 100 degree heat felt it went up so easily!

Here Juan McDebtor enters the back door for the first time...

...to view his land through the newly-formed front windows...

...and back ones.

And as the sun sets outside of one of the great room's windows (dramatic, huh?), Juan and I marvel at the whirling thoughts and ideas chockablock (my word for the day) in our brains as we dare plan for the unknown future.

Through the combined good fortune of my sister from Denver finding this lovely property and the new neighbors becoming loving friends AND our building contractor, Juan McDebtor and I indeed feel blessed.

Tote and Table

2011-05-29T15:52:00.013-05:00

I am so excited to give you a sneak peak of my old tool tote and farm table sitting in my new home.

My new home isn't totally weatherized yet...

but I feel it will be done any day now.

I bought the old tote several husbands ago, before tool totes had any value at all. I picked it up for a song, and maybe a dance, not even knowing what I'd do with it. When the boys were young, the tote sat in the hall by the back door and held their muddy shoes and boots. Then it graduated to the garage where Juan Last Husband used it for it's intended purpose - tools!

Now it has been upgraded to the house once again and has a place of honor because when we bought this property, guess what I found in one of the outbuildings? This beautiful farm table!

Oh, it was in terrible shape...

...cupped top boards, termite damage, deep gouges, and chippy legs. But it was huge and had such potential! When Juan Last Husband and I were moving it, he noticed printing burned into one leg.

It reads, "A. & M. C. Dining Hall".

Now for all you non-Aggies, A&M University hasn't been a college since 1963. So this baby is OLD. Being retired from A&M, and with Juan Last Husband still working there, I knew I had to bring this big darling back from the dead. The chippy legs and printing were gonna stay!

I couldn't bring myself to retop the table with new boards so I worked madly on getting the double tongue and grooved boards back into shape. I even had to scrape off gum from the underside of the table, although I did leave one piece in honor of all those military boys who sat at this table and ate...after they parked their gum underneath!

UPDATE: Love and Renovations posted about an old A&M table she saw at Round Top. Pictures are about halfway through her article. Amanda, the blogger, said, "This, my friends, is a table from Sbisa dining hall at Texas A&M. It lived there from 1912 to 1926..." Thanks Rosemary for sending the site my way!

Round Top/ Warrenton NOW!

2011-03-20T10:05:00.004-05:00

To the left is another great Texas entertainment center!

Me? I'm not old. I'm just a little rusty and chippy...like the rest of my husband's junk!

Going to Round Top/Warrenton next weekend with my cousin buddies. Watch out, Treasures. Here we come!

The Mystery of the Whistling Terlet

2010-12-20T08:45:00.003-06:00

My terlet whistles when it’s flushed.

Not the sputtering, low whistle like when you’re calling your dog with your mouth full of crackers but a long piercing whistle like you’re trying to get the attention of your friend Johnnie down the block.

The mystery of the whistling terlet started Sunday night after the warehouse lumber and hardware stores were all closed. My husband, Juan-Too-Many-Thumbs, has a policy: Never start a plumbing project when the plumbing parts stores are all closed. As much as I agree with that policy, it made for a long night.

You see, I have lots of things that make me lie awake at night - Christmas is less than a week away, I have an operation coming up the week after, and we’re contemplating building a house. And I’ve noticed it’s not just me awake for what feels like hours on end. Juan-Too-Many-Thumbs isn’t snoring as much or as loudly at night as he used to either.

What does this have to do with the whistling terlet? Well, it’s hard for a woman to wake at night without needing the services of said terlet. I usually resist the pull of the commode, not through stubbornness or laziness but because I know getting up will only make sleep move even further down the clock.

Knowing how hard sleep is for me, Juan-Too-Many-Thumbs usually gets up quietly during the night with only the creak of his knees alerting me he has risen. But last night, due to the mystery of the whistling terlet, when he got up, he turned on the faucets of both the tub and sink in our terlet room before he flushed, trying mightily to alleviate the whistling so it wouldn’t wake me. And it worked. No whistling. Only it made the terlet room sound like a CD of Niagara Falls.

And you know what the sound of running water does to a woman!

Why I like...

2010-09-16T20:17:00.001-05:00

...Texas restaurants!

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2010-09-13T22:23:00.004-05:00

"Terlet" brush holder

Gives new meaning to the term
"Shit kicking boots," doesn't it?
(Pardon my language)

And yes, we own one!

This Tasteless Tuesday is especially for Art.

My sister came to Texas and kicked my fairy "tail"!

2010-09-10T12:56:00.007-05:00

You know how it is when you have the feeling that something’s wrong but you can’t, or won’t, figure out what it is, don’t you? That’s how I was feeling. Not good or bad. Still doing the things I knew I should be doing but things just weren’t right with me.

Then here comes Sis*.

Like the Dog Whisperer, she observed my behavior. Then Sister Whisperer that she is, she sits me down for a talk. Physically, she says to me, you don’t have cancer. But mentally, you still have it.

My eyes opened wide and I started to object and defend myself but I couldn’t. I knew instantly she was right. I still think of myself as having cancer. Of course, barely two months out of treatment, and with scans and checkups popping up every three month for the next couple of years, it’s understandable. But that’s not how I want to live the rest of my life.

I’m cancer-free. Period. No "at the moment" added.

I’m cancer-free and going to live like it!

I’m painting pretty pictures every day I possibly can.

I’m designing our new house for our new piece of land.

Maybe it’ll be a bed and breakfast. Who knows but I’m living in the future from now on. I never realized how important that is. Yes, I’m living every day fully too but without tomorrows, "every days" aren’t whole.

How are you living your life?

*Sis had great scans at MDAnderson herself. Her lung tumors are almost gone. She’ll remain on this current chemo, which seems to be working miracles, for another four month, then she’ll come down from Denver for more scans…and hopefully, won’t have to kick my fairy "tail" again.

Love – and I do love you all,

Untitled!

2010-07-13T20:33:00.005-05:00

Last Friday was my cancerversary. Exactly one year ago I found a lump in my left breast, which, needless to say, is no longer with me. Lefty is now being stored in a back room of MDAnderson Cancer Center, on a lower shelf somewhere, I’m sure.

Coincidentally - or maybe not - the last of my treatments (radiation) finished up last Tuesday. The complete cancer adventure took one whole year, a year with few highs and lots of lows. How working women or women with small children get through cancer treatment amazes me. They have my utmost respect.

But on the encouraging side, the whole thing is doable. It might not be fun. There might be other things one wants to do with that year, but cancer treatment is a demanding mistress and one must give it its due and then get on with life.

For me, I now wait six months (at least) for that area to heal so I can have breast reconstruction (or not. That decision doesn’t have to be made at the moment) or, at least, some scar repair and possibly the other boob removed. I’m weighing my options. My three-month tests all looked good. I’ll do them - and more - all over again in October.

Right now I’m feeling good and building up my strength again. Juan-and-Only and I walked to the neighborhood Wings ‘n More tonight, had dinner, and walked home. A big deal for me. Don’t know if the exercise worked off the good, greasy meal but it felt good to walk in the Texas heat.

I also want you all to know how much your support and prayers have meant to me and Juan. If I didn’t respond to your email or comment, I was probably overwhelmed at that moment and once I got behind in correspondence, the situation just overwhelmed me more! Forgive me and know that I valued the communication.

Love,

Baby Emery update plus an update on The Texas Woman

2010-04-20T15:27:00.005-05:00

All your prayers for Baby Emery have been answered. Thank you very much!

Emery, who was diagnosed with cancer at the tender age of six weeks (she's now 4 1/2 months old), had surgery yesterday morning at Texas Children Hospital. The chemo had knocked the tumor back quite a bit and the successful surgery by wonderful doctors took out the rest. She'll be going home soon to start life anew with her grateful and attentive parents.

As for the Texas Woman, her pathology report indicated radiation treatment is her next step, not surgery for the other breast. I move to Houston and start treatment May 24.

Without radiation, chances of cancer not reoccurring are 90%. With radiation, 96%. Now that doesn't sound like much of a difference; but when you break that down mathematically, it's a 1 in 10 chance of reoccurring versus a 1 in 25 chance. Radiation cuts my chance of reoccurring by 60%! That's big. Huge, in fact, so I'm taking radiation!

Guess I'll be leaning to the right for about a year...like what else is new!

Happy Easter!

2010-04-04T18:31:00.003-05:00

Wrong body parts but you get what I'm trying to tell ya!

Totally Tasteless Tuesday and Surgery Update!

2010-03-30T09:13:00.002-05:00

Surgery Update
Surgery yesterday afternoon went well. Not much pain at all. Home (well, back in the RV) already this morning. Another step behind me on this journey!

De-Boob Job Monday!

2010-03-26T16:46:00.006-05:00

Monday is part one of my breast cancer project conclusion. The left beauty will go on that day.

April Fools!

No more beautiful aspirin on the left knee for me after Monday!

Silly. Did you really think those shadows were my boobies?

Right mastectomy (part two) late in April, hopefully. Have to see what the pathology reports says first.

Wish me and my knees luck!

Fun with a chemo-head shadow

2010-03-18T13:36:00.000-05:00

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2010-03-16T17:00:00.002-05:00

Totally Tasteless Tuesday Thank You

2010-03-08T22:16:00.009-06:00

This post is not for just everybody…it’s only for YOU! You who have supported and encouraged me since I discovered triple negative cancer in my left breast eight months ago.

The things you’ve done have meant so much, like your:

blog comments and blog mentions
emails
cards and e-cards
presents (like Demanda Jr.'s boobie cookies!)
food
phone calls
and the sharing of your own struggles with cancer.

Everything you’ve done for me, Juan In A Million, and our wonderful children.

I still have several months to go in this fight but I didn’t want to wait any longer to say thank you and to say that I love you all. I wanted to say it now. So…

THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU ALL!!!

Will my old, ratty bras make it to my mastectomy?

2010-03-03T14:27:00.005-06:00

or

So you thought I had floated away on a current of chemo!

I rang the bell at MDAnderson!

Then I rang it again just to make sure God heard it! Ya see, the bell is there for us chemo patients to ring after our last treatment and my last chemo was February 19th. Hooray for me!

I was so deliriously happy to ring the bell that I forgot about all the chemo things I’d been through in the last six months, all the cancer things I’ll be going through in the future, and the disgusting fact that triple negative breast cancer has a bad reputation for reoccurring.

I was totally in denial as I happily rang the bell.

And the best way to deal with being in denial is to deny you are in denial. At least that’s how I deal with life. That’s how I’ve lived the last half of year being balder than my husband Juan Very Bald Man.

The denial euphoria lasted until yesterday when I had an appointment with my oncology surgeon. I go under the knife for tit removal March 29.

Ain’t no denying that!

Getting lucky without playing the lottery!

2010-01-18T18:43:00.002-06:00

UPDATE: My mother-in-law passed away this afternoon about 5:40. Rest in peace, dear.

This is a repost, complete with previous comments, from almost a year ago exactly.

Picking a nursing home for a loved one is hard work.

After sorting through government ratings, touring affordable - and unaffordable - residences, and asking strangers on every street corner, IT Guy and I finally relied on our own experience.

Neither one of us have personally needed a similar facility, but after my mother fell and suffered severe brain damage several years ago, we placed her in a local Methodist home called Crestview.

IT Guy and I had inquired about availability at Crestview during the course of M-I-L’s hospital stay and rehabilitation. Availability in a good nursing home is just another way of getting lucky, only without buying a lottery ticket.

The day before M-I-L was scheduled to leave rehab, a bed at Crestview opened up, so to speak. Since IT Guy had a meeting, I escorted M-I-L to her new home.

It was lunchtime when we arrived. I asked our escorts if she could see her room before she ate. She was worried and I wanted her to be able to enjoy her meal and start the whole experience off on a good note, without reservations about where she would be sleeping that night.

Of course, they said, as they pushed her down the hall, me faithfully following behind the wheelchair. I’d been down this hall many times, daily, in fact, for a full year.

We turned left in front of the dining hall. I waved at several people I’d known during my Mother’s stay. Not that they would remember me, but I remembered them.

By the time our little parade got halfway down the hall, willies started wiggling up my spine. It was all too familiar. I knew the people who lived in the rest of the rooms in this wing. I’d just waved to some of them.

The CNA kept pushing my M-I-L and I kept following, until there was only one room left.

My mother’s old room.

And that’s where we turned, right into my Mother’s old room. Right up to her old bed. Right across from her old roommate.

The only available bed at Crestview was my mother’s old bed. To me, it was like going home.

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2010-01-11T20:58:00.002-06:00

Funny the games you become addicted too!

I just can't seem to grab two boobs that match!

Meet Sweet Baby Emery

2010-01-10T11:49:00.004-06:00

Hi. My name is Emery.

I wanted to show you how cute I am before I tell you my story.

Some day this picture will embarrass me but it's OK for now.

Here's my story.

I'm six-weeks old and the baby girl cousin of Juan and Texas Woman. I live in Amarillo, Texas, but the other day I was life-flighted to Texas Children's Hospital in Houston because - and you won't believe this - I have cancer. The tumor is pressing on my spine and attached to my lungs.

Last night I had a port placed in me and I had my first treatment of chemotherapy. I probably need at least one more treatment. The doctors are trying to shrink the tumor away from my spine to make the operation easier.

So I'm here asking you a favor. When you send up prayers for The Texas Woman, could you add my name next to hers? It's just a little name.

Love,

Bad weather!

2010-01-07T11:33:00.005-06:00

Since I managed to pick up Strep Throat with my chemo-caused low white blood cell count, from now on Juan-Lucky-Shopper gets to be the only one going to the grocery in our family!

Last night, before the cold front hit, Juan found empty shelves at the store and took a picture to show me.

I guess us Southerners don't take cold weather too well!

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2010-01-04T23:00:00.000-06:00

Painless implants on the cheap.
Sign up NOW!

After looking at all the implants available (iTit, etc), I've finally decided on this inexpensive, one-size-fits-all, painless set of new breasts.

Apparently you get three sets for the price of one so anyone who wants to sign up with me, just let me know!

Merry Christmas from me!

2009-12-24T15:43:00.003-06:00

Recognize this elf?

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

It's ME!

A Christmas Story - NOT!

2009-12-12T09:51:00.005-06:00

Our little dog Joey is a revenge shitter. When things don’t go his way, he pops a poop.

For example, when Juan-in-a-Million and I want some alone time, we lock the dogs out of the bedroom. For a while Joey protests as loudly as he can but ultimately he gets even with a pile of pooh – not close enough to the door to step into but strategically placed so that it’s the first thing you see when you walk out of the room.

Juan-and-Only says that calling Joey a revenge shitter is a little strongly put. He prefers the terms Joey the Pooh or The Turdinator. Whichever, they all adequately describe the little fellow in language that tickles pre-teen boys.

The only reason I bring up Joey’s bad behavior this time of year is that I expect a lot of protest poop this season. Ya see, Juan-of-a-Kind and I have decided not to buy Christmas presents this year – for anybody! Not each other. Not the children. Not the grandchild. Not even the dear little doggies!

Considering my current situation, we just want the focus of the holiday to be on our love for each other, our love for the children and grandchild, and, of course, our love for our fur-children.

Hmmmm. There might be more protest poop under our Christmas tree than just Joey's!

P.S. I have completed my 12 Taxol chemo treatments and am currently on a two-week break before starting my FAC chemo. I should be done with FAC by mid February. After a month-long break, I'll have my big operation, followed by radiation. Thanks to all of you for your support. It's meant so much to me. Love and hugs, Cher

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-12-07T09:09:00.003-06:00

While Juan-in-a-Million and I were in Houston Friday, it snowed! Then, just as we were leaving town, a snow angel appeared right before our eyes.

Juan's never driven home to Bryan so fast!

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-11-10T10:27:00.006-06:00

Too bad this BBQ pit can't be towed

with the gun barrel pointing backwards!

Apple's new iTit, a must-have for breast cancer reconstruction!

2009-10-28T17:19:00.002-05:00

Apple announced today that it has developed a breast implant that can store and play music. The iTit will cost from $499 to $699, depending on cup and speaker size. This is considered a major breast reconstruction breakthrough because women are always complaining about men staring at their breasts and not listening to them.

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-10-27T08:55:00.002-05:00

Another
Texas Grill Accessory

See last week's Tasteless Tuesday
for the rest of the story!

Local benefit for Paper Cowgirl!

2009-10-25T00:42:00.004-05:00

If you live in or near the Bryan/College Station area and are planning to eat Thursday, help out fellow blogger Tina Wright (Glue on my fingers, paint in my hair; Paper Cowgirl) and get your eats here.

A dinner and silent auction

benefiting Tina Wright and Stan Kistler

will be held

Thursday, October 29,

4-8 pm

at the Wellborn Community Center

on Wellborn Rd. in Wellborn, Texas.

Proceeds go towards the cost of cancer surgery and treatments. Tickets are $8 per person and may be purchased at the door the day of the event or in advance at Changes Hair Salon, Independence Harley Davidson, and the First Baptist Church of College Station.

For more information or to make a cash or auction donation, please contact Faye Lane 979-680-1025 or email elliefae@gmail.com. The event is sponsored by the Brazos de Dios Harley Owners Group.

I hope to see ya there!

I've been BOO'D!

2009-10-24T22:53:00.004-05:00

Me, Sis, and friend back in the day!
I'm the one with the big, black buttons
which is the only thing I remember
about the costume. Sis is the cat in black.

You Have Been BOO'd!

The air is cool,
the season is fall,
Soon Halloween will come to all.

Ghosts and goblins, spooks galore...
Tricky witches at your door.
The spooks are after things to do,
In fact, a spook brought this "BOO" to you.

The excitement comes when friends like you,
Copy this note and make it two.
We'll all have smiles on our faces,
When we see who Boo'd who's places.

I was Boo'd by Amy at Whisperwood Cottage. Now...

The following 4 ladies have been officially BOO'd...

1. Colleen at Utah Grammie...fun and clever!
2. Lori R at Altered Glass...creative in so many ways!
3. Tina at Glue on my fingers...so creative but right now fighting cancer with all she's worth!
4. Donna at Brynwood Needleworks...projects and more!

This BOO party was started by Toni at The Tattered Cottage. Please keep the fun going by following these instructions.

1. You have 24 hours to work your spell

2. Copy and post the Halloween Boo Poem with the instructions for playing.

3. Pick 4 blogs you enjoying visiting and tell why you enjoy visiting them, with a link to their blog and remember to link back to me.

4. Go to the original BOO Party post at the Tattered Cottage and add your MckLinky.

5. Let's see how fast and far this spreads between now and Halloween.

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-10-19T21:05:00.002-05:00

Texas Grill Accessory

I'm not tellin' who sent THIS one to me!
You'd be so-o-o-o surprised!

Unluckyb@$!@#d!

2009-10-18T17:33:00.000-05:00

Hubby Juan Luckybastard is considering changing his name. Apparently, he isn't feeling that the next few weeks will be his luckiest.

Ya see, I had a little surgery at MDAnderson Friday that installed a Power Port into my chest. This will make chemo infusions much easier and is the only way to handle the upcoming harsher chemos.

The port is placed below the collarbone under the skin. Tubing from the port is tunneled upwards towards another incision which is made to help thread the tubing downward into the jugular vein. The whole procedure takes about an hour, following an hour of prep with an antibiotic transfusion. It takes about hour in the recovery room after the operation.

Cute cowboy boot slippers from Joan that I wore in the hospital!

No biggie, really. I had a fairly comfortable night in a propped up position in our fifth wheel travel trailer. A small amount of pain in the morning saw me taking a pain med. If we'd been home, I could have done without it but we had to drive our rig home and that's a bumpy ride after a surgical procedure.

So what does all this have to do with Juan wanting to change his last name to Unluckybastard? Well, postoperative instructions for him were MUCH longer than the ones for me.

My list only stated that for two weeks I cannot lift my arm above my head or straight out to the front or side. I cannot lift over 20 lbs. I cannot drive.

Here's Juan list for the next ~~two~~ six weeks :

Juan shall do all incision dressing changes.
Juan shall drive me wherever I want to go.
Juan shall do all grocery shopping as well as the putting away of said vittles.
Juan shall do all vacuuming, laundry, and ironing.
Juan shall empty dishwasher (it involves putting dishes away over my head).
Juan shall change bed linens.
Juan shall unload travel trailer (and load, if need be).
Juan shall continue to work to support me in the manner I have become accustomed to.
Juan shall continue to visit and monitor his mother's care and feeding.
Juan shall continue with all of his usual chores around the house.
And, in his spare time - if there is any - Juan may gather with his male friends and fly his precious remote control airplanes.

I think you get the drift of the proposed name change.

And, of course, Juan shall do all this while putting up with my chemo treatment aftereffects. Just so he understands what he's in for during the week, I've renamed the days.

Chemo Friday, of course, is the day we travel to Houston for treatment.
Steroid Saturday is definitely a good day for me. If I plan on doing anything at all during the week, that's the day to gitter done! Of course, I'm a little chatty on Steroid Saturday, usually starting at 5 a.m. and continuing until bedtime.
Sucky Sunday, when the steroids have worn off, starts the downward slide into Chemoville.
Mattress Monday is a very tired day for me. The dogs and I sleep in every room of the house.
Flu Tuesday is full of achy muscles and fatigue.
Wild Card Wednesday can be good, can be bad. It's a wild card kind of day, all right.
Thrilling Thursday is the closest day to feeling back to normal for me...most of the time.
And then we're back to Chemo Friday, starting my week - and his - all over again!

Poor Juan. Poor, poor Juan.

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-10-12T21:36:00.002-05:00

Don't ever sample the fruit of the butt tree!

Thanks, SIE.

Honey, does this mastectomy make my chest look flat?

2009-10-10T07:40:00.002-05:00

Since I haven't had THE operation yet, I don't have the flat chest situation, but I can see my body changing since I started chemo.

My taste buds have gone on strike so you'd think I'd be losing weight, but I seem to be ounce-ing upwards and inching outwards. MDAnderson weighs me in stones, I think, so it's hard to tell what my actual weight is, but even with chemo brain I can tell a big stone from a little pebble! If there was ever a time to eat healthy and control portions, this is it, but so many foods are dead to me due to my compromised immune system (e.g. fresh, uncooked fruits and vegetable that don't have thick, peelable skins) and my delicate tummy (e.g. spicy foods).

On the up side the doctor recommends white bread to control nausea. Finally, I can legally eat white bread again. Just don't let all those people in my water aerobic classes whom I've told to not eat "white" know!

Then there are my arms. The chemo nurse diagnosed a Taxol rash among the freckles and liver spots. She declared that I was lucky it hadn't spread to my face yet. I declared her evil for even mentioning a face rash in the same room with me. Doesn't she know how things like that can jump out of someone's brain and become fact?

Anyway, I emailed my chemo doc about the rash (you know how those teenagers love to text and email!) and THREE minutes later (I kid you not here, Juan as my witness) she replied from her berry thing. I told you she was young!

Before chemo I took an occasional aspirin or equivalent, but now I have prescription meds for the rash, prescription meds to poop, prescription meds to not poop, prescription meds for nausea, prescription meds for...well, TMI but you get the not-so-prettty picture. I keep them all in a big bowl on the counter where they're handy to gather up because every three weeks the chemo doc calls an ally-ally-oxen-free, and I have to haul them to MDAnderson in there original containers so she can review them with me. If you're above a certain age, you know what "ally-ally-oxen-free" means. If not, look it up on the Internet with that little berry thing of yours.

We won't mention hair loss again except to say that the stubble on my shaved head down to the hair between my toes is clearing out faster than the Houston HOV Lane in rush hour traffic, which is pretty dern fast. We use it every Friday night to get clear of the big city, and it saves us almost an hour's time.

But since my main tumor (the largest and only one I can feel) has changed in texture and drastically lessened in size and shape, the news is all good. I feel so lucky, in fact, that I'm going out and buy lotto tickets today!

Lookin' like Juan!

2009-10-07T10:05:00.008-05:00

I said it before and I'll say it again...the longer a couple stays together the more they look alike!

Don't believe me? Then take a look at my portrait with hubby Juan Luckybastard, taken just last Friday evening. I think we look strikingly alike, don't you? From the tops of our little bald heads to the tips of our mustache, our image shows what a healthy, happy marriage we have.

OK, I'm callin' bulls*!t on myself. Don't get me wrong, we are a happily married couple. And I do usually have a mustache. And he does wear glasses (just not those pink ones!). But the haircut itself is just more fun with chemo!

The truth about my lost hair is that when the chemo doc asked me Friday if I had started losing my hair yet, I answered no as I ran my fingers through my Mohawk. Lo and behold, I came away with a fistful of hair. Even the doctor laughed at the timing of the first fallout.

So when we got home from MDAnderson that night, Juan took the dog clippers to my thinning Mohawk and gave me HIS hairdo. The free photo-altering software GIMP did the rest.

Actual good-looking couple.

By the end of the evening, I was completely shaven bald.

I don't know what it says about me but I actually like it.

And when we take our nightly walks, cars veer away as their headlights reflect on our naked domes and they think we're an oncoming car!

Thank you, The Domestic Fringe, for today's Party in Pink supporting breast cancer survivors and battlers! You and your followers rock!

My hair is gone!

2009-10-03T20:39:00.001-05:00

The semi-true poem about my baldness.

I misplaced my hair today.
I can’t find it anywhere.
I searched for it on Ebay.
But, alas, it wasn’t there.

It wasn’t on my pillow.
It wasn’t on the floor.
It wasn’t on my towel,
Nor hanging on the door.

It wasn’t on hubby’s head.
That I would have noted,
His own hair long ago fled
Leaving his poor dome uncoated.

I saw it in the mirror
When I first got out of bed.
But I swear I won't shed a tear
Ov’r what used to top my head.

It was the perfect Mohawk.
So easy to maintain.
It made people stop and gawk
But I loved it just the same.

I knew the hair had to go.
That’s what the doctors said.
After so much Chemo,
I thought it might turn red.

But it didn’t. It just fell out
Before I ate my lunch.
Finding it I had my doubt
But then I got a hunch

After all my searching
In every cubby hole,
I found my hair amid the bling
On my little doggie Joe.

The end
(of my hair for now)

Bald photos coming soon to this blog!

Have you ever?

2009-09-30T20:29:00.009-05:00

Have you ever laid out on the grass, staring up at the sky, feeling the green blades poke through your clothing, wondering what the future will bring?

Or warmed yourself on a sun-soaked bench under a white-capped sky, wondering where your future lies?

I have.

I do.

Last week I saw my future in a news story on the Internet. It read:

A 107-year-old woman says she is ready to marry for the 23rd time because she fears her current husband might leave her for a younger woman.

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-09-28T21:18:00.002-05:00

This is not my fault!

Blame Joan!

Happy early Holloween to you!

DISCLAIMER: This pumpkin resides on the butt of a total stranger.
It is not my butt, nor the butt of Joan, the butt of Chaz, or the butt of Juan.
But we thank butt for the laugh it gave us!

Watching Juan sleep

2009-09-27T13:08:00.000-05:00

Lately, in the middle of the night, my mind kicks into overdrive, pops my eyes open, and leaves me wide awake — with very few options. If I get up, the dogs do too and the flurry and commotion that ensues is not conducive to any of us returning to a sleeping dog pile.

So I stay in bed and watch Juan sleep.

Juan-watching is not as uninteresting as one might think. He can fall asleep anywhere, anytime, and in the most unusual positions. Also he hums words in the back of his throat every time he exhales. His favorite word seems to be 0-Oh-me, pause, 0-Oh-me, pause, 0-Oh-me, pause. For hours. Or until the word changes.

Uh-uh (meaning no and not to be confused with uh-huh meaning yes, which I’ve never heard him hum), is popular with him too. Fi-i-re, hummed with a bit more exuberance, is probably left over from his days as an assistant fire chief. He’s never exhaled y-es-dear, but I contribute that to the fact that the consonants y and d are hard to hum.

But the other night’s Juan-watching reminded me of another one of my inventions.

I haven't dated in the last 20-years but I do have sympathy for the single women out there.

She picks out this great looking cowboy while she's on the prowl and takes him home. Then what? He kicks off his alligator boots, strips out of those slim Wranglers, and stashes his hat on her bedpost. As he climbs into bed, the single gal realizes all his charming personality was in the clothing! Her mind screams, "What have I done?"

My invention solves this problem. It called the Cowboy Keeper and is modeled here by Juan Luckybastard.

Ah, you say, that hat isn't that attractive from the back but ladies, just look how great this cowboy looks in my bed!

See why it's called the Cowboy Keeper? I'm keepin' this guy!

The Simple Photographer

2009-09-24T08:28:00.005-05:00

If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times.

When having your picture taken, turn your body slightly (SLIGHTLY) away from the camera!

This slims your profile, and who among us can't use a little slimming. A new friend that I met the other day agreed to pose and illustrate this important photography tip.

Meet Larry the Longhorn. He's pretty wide (and horny too but we won't get into that in this post!)

With just a slight adjustment in his pose, Larry appears a little slimmer.

As he keeps turning away from you, you can see how nicely Larry slims down.

Considerably so, in fact!

Do ya see what I'm talkin' about now?

Nice job, Larry. Thanks.

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-09-22T08:43:00.003-05:00

Guess what all y'all are gettin' for Christmas
from Juan and me this year?

Photo album of a chemo cut!

2009-09-20T17:11:00.008-05:00

The cast of characters:

back row: Hat Dude, C-Bear, Code Woman, and Kid Coffee
front row: The Texas Woman and Juan Luckybastard

Before

The first haircut!

The second haircut!

Everybody gets to help!

OMG! What are they doing to me?

I kinda like the ponytails!

Ya know you look pathetic when the grandson gives you sympathy!

First look!

Back view. Note famous butt in background!
Kinda similar, ain't they?

Side view!

Mother/son matching Mohawks!

YOU made me do it!

YOU went along with the idea!

After

The toned down version awaiting fallout!

One chemo treatment down
and fifteen to go.

I'm kicking tumor butt now!

Hog Haven Report

2009-09-17T08:58:00.008-05:00

I feel like a groundhog coming out of its hole in the Spring, only instead of being Punxsutawney Phil, I’m Cancertawney Cher, and instead of seeing my shadow, I see lots of caring bloggers, friends, and relatives…and I love you all.

So here, in straight form, is my diagnosis and progress report:

I have triple negative invasive ductal carcinoma stage IIb (which means the primary milk duct tumor is between two and five centimeters and that there is malignant lymph gland involvement) with some DCIS tumors (which means cancer has not spread beyond the original duct). All are grade 3 (aggressive).

Triple negative, or TN for short, means the cancer does not have hormone receptors to estrogen and progesterone, nor HER2 (human epidermal growth factor receptors). That boils down to the fact that this cancer will not respond to maintenance therapies such as Tamoxifen, Femara, or Herceptin, but it should respond well to chemotherapy and radiation.

TN is an aggressive and prolific cancer, discovered about a decade ago and only studied as a breast cancer subtype in its own right in the last three or four years. Only 10-20% of all breast cancers fall into this category. Profiles show a high prevalence of TN among young, African descent women who are BRCA1 and BRCA2 positive. So much for statistics since I am older, Caucasian, and BRCA1 and BRCA2 negative!

My chemo doctor (not to be confused with the surgeon shown on an earlier post), who is (and I swear this is true) a beautiful sixteen and a half year old girl with a waist the size of my wrist and not any taller than my left cancerous boob, has put me on a chemo diet of Taxol every Friday for twelve weeks, then FAC (I won’t even bother telling you the long words behind those letters) every three weeks for three months.

After those seven months of chemo I’ll have one month of freedom before surgery to remove said boobs. Surgery will be followed up by weeks of radiation. Young, sexy doc feels she has to throw everything except the kitchen sink at this TN the first time around since it has a high metastasis rate and no after treatment as I already said. TN, though, is a hot bed in the research department and I feel five years will make a big difference in the treatment of this tricky breast cancer.

Stay tuned next week to see the chemo haircut my children plan on giving me this Sunday. Be afraid. Very afraid.

Guest blogging b@$!@#d!

2009-09-14T09:49:00.013-05:00

Since The Texas Woman has been a backsliding blogger lately, I, her husband Juan Luckybastard, have decided to guest blog today in an effort to get Cher back to her laptop.

Oh, I remember the days when associating Cher with a lap top meant something totally different to me than it does now but I'd better not go down that trail. She might not let me come back to blog again.

Like my name implies, I count myself lucky. While most men are forced to change into their wife's idea of an ideal husband, Cher is becoming more and more like me! Soon we'll have matching hairdos, or should I say matching lack of hairdos since we'll both be bald. And in a matter of months we'll have matching chests too — both flat.

At first, Cher wondered if the lack of these human accessories would effect my feelings towards her but I pointed out that she fell in love with me when I was both bald and flat-chested and I know I'll love her when she's bald and flat-chested too!

But the best part of the new Cher will be that I'll get my pick of these lovely ladies to spend time with...

...ahhhh, would number two please step forward?

Laughter is the best medicine!

2009-09-06T11:08:00.004-05:00

I hope you enjoy this video

my friend Joan sent me.

I sure did!

2009-09-03T07:14:00.003-05:00

Blogging friends
are like angels.
You can't see them
but you know they're there!

Cancer by the numbers

2009-09-01T17:10:00.008-05:00

So I put on my

and went to

where I was poked with needles

times!
(well, it felt like it!)

I thought I had

tumor but it turns out I have

tumors.

Since the cancer has traveled to at least

lymph node, my

(yes, this is really his picture)
says I will have

months of chemo before I have surgery.

The prognosis is that I have an

percent chance of living at least

years.

As my mother told my Uncle Harry,
"You're 63-years old (I changed the age to my own)!
How much longer did you expect to live?"

Forever, Momma. Forever!

Texas Tough

2009-08-29T10:40:00.004-05:00

B. is a strong woman.

She keeps herself trim and in shape by hard work on her own piece of land. She’s quiet as the Texas plains in the mid-day heat and beautiful in such a way you don’t often see the likes on TV, for she’s not smooth cheeked with sophisticated hair. She's better than that. Simpler. Deeper. Richer. Highly seasoned and elaborately prepared for the rest of her life by past sadness and trial. You can see them in her face, feel them across the table.

Like the Ford truck, she’s Texas tough.

The other day at a luncheon, surrounded by small talk, B. leans over and asks me if I’d like to see her mastectomy scar. I would. I’ve wondered. I’ve seen pictures on the Internet but never in person.

B. stands up and heads to the restaurant’s bathroom. I follow and press my butt against the door so nobody else can enter. Calmly, she bears her chest. She shows me her scar, her prosthesis. She lets me look and touch. She encourages questions. Then she buttons up her shirt and leaves the room.

I profess to have to pee and don’t leave with her. Really, I’m taking a moment to mentally regroup. Reality has hit me hard. In all probability I’ll have two scars like the one she showed me. And if I’m lucky, I’ll be as brave as she is, for, as I stand alone in the bathroom, I ponder on the courage it took for that private woman to offer such an intimate show and tell.

B.’s my latest hero. She’s my new breastfriend.

The light at the end of the tunnel!

2009-08-22T12:32:00.006-05:00

Tunnels aren't always made up of rocks and dirt but they all have one thing in common - the light at their end!

And I'm thinkin' I'm seeing the light at the end of mine. MD Anderson is only a week away now. It's been a long, dreary wait.

My BRCA1 and BRCA2 genetic tests came back showing no mutations, a good thing for Sis and me and our children and grandchildren.

The oncology surgeon I consulted for a second opinion first agreed with me about the treatment I have decided upon. MDAnderson will give me the first opinion second. This cancer stuff sure is confusing, isn't it?

Schoolmarm, designated dater of my youngest son Kid Coffee, taught me how to swallow pills...with a bite of banana! I'm workin' on it daily and I've noticed that the price of bananas at the supermarket has gone down considerably since I started buying so many!

And finally, my new tat is in place.

No, not on me...

...on Kid Coffee!

More cancer musings

2009-08-19T09:48:00.009-05:00

I sleep like a chicken with gas. Let me explain.

A couple of days after my breast biopsy my left underarm started swelling slightly and painfully. The doctor said it wasn’t infected, nor could it be galloping cancer. It was probably a reaction to the biopsy.

A couple of days later my right underarm started doing the same thing. I wasn’t able to get a good night’s sleep because of the pain and worry but Doc said everything still seemed OK.

Of course it worried me even more when the good doctor called me while on his vacation to see how I was doing. That’s never a good sign in my book!

Meanwhile, at the hospital, M-L-L’s arm swelled up (quite large). Nurses elevated it by hanging her arm with a tube sock (OK, it wasn’t a tube sock but that’s the best description I can give you) from an IV hanger. Her swelling subsided.

Hmmmzzzz, my sleep-deprived mind thought.

That night I surrounded myself with puffy pillows. I stuck my fists into my armpits and propped my elbows high on the pillows, sort of like a sleeping dancer doing the chicken. Lo AND behold, the next morning the swelling and pain in my armpits were much less.

Since I was such a genius, I decided to tackle another problem that will be looming shortly — pill swallowing. You see I’ve never, NEVER been able to swallow pills. I’m not on any meds now so I don’t get a chance to practice much. And anyway how many of any one type of pill can a person swallow in any one setting to learn how to do it!

Furniture Man bought me a large bag of M&Ms for practice but I couldn’t swallow them either. I just kept thinking of the waste in swallowing good chocolate whole without even tasting it! Instead, I pulled a can of baked beans out of the cupboard.

Need I say more?

No, I have not been discomboobulated yet!

2009-08-17T13:59:00.004-05:00

Yes, I know that word only has one “o” but in my case I think it should be a double. FINALLY, two weeks from today, I will be at MD Anderson in Houston, finding out the fate of said boobies.

I say “boobies” because where one goest, I think the other should goest. After all, they are a matched set, unlike my daughter’s whose set doesn’t match at all. I’m not giving away secrets here. To see the disparity, one only has to look at her — when she’s naked, which hardly counts at all since she is a workaholic, doesn’t date, and isn’t married. I mean, the girl is hardly ever naked nowadays, even though she works from home and could be naked 24/7 if she wanted to be. [This paragraph is a test for my daughter to see if she REALLY reads The Texas Woman!]

Anyway, I don’t want to have to go through life trying to keep my chest level or equally poufed. I’m too old for vanity, too young for cancer, which reminds me of my cousin Janice who says she's too light for heavy housework and too heavy for light housework. I always liked Janice. I should keep in touch more often.

I won’t miss my C cups at all. At least that’s how I feel right now. I might feel different when I wake up with nothing. Nada. Zip.

I have been busy while waiting to be summoned to The Big C Hospital. M-I-L has been critically ill…twice. We’re talking with Hospice today to put in motion her next steps through life. Such sadness and, between her situation and mine, such pressure on my poor husband. Thank God for his strong shoulders and loving heart.

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-08-03T21:25:00.001-05:00

Maybe urinals don't have the same motto that real estate does. You know the one I mean - location, location, location!

Bad to the bone!

2009-08-01T16:22:00.005-05:00

I hear looks can be deceiving.

But surely not when a guy sports a phat tat like this. This dude must be bad!

Especially since he also has a haircut like this.

A kinda scary thug!

Especially when he comes with more tats and muscles too.

And, of course, when a person like this smiles, you don't know WHAT they're up to.

Wait. He's sewing on a button?

So he can wear good clothes when he goes to see...

...his godchildren?

I guess looks CAN be deceiving!

This bad boy is really a good man and my youngest child Kid Coffee. His looks are just his way of trying to do his part in keeping Austin weird - Austin, Texas, that is, where he and his friends own a coffee shop on Lamar Street!

Dissing the artist's eye!

2009-07-29T18:17:00.005-05:00

Of all the photos I took at the Scott Kelby's Annual International Photowalk the other Saturday, my favorite is this shot of a plastic chair in a doorway.

I like the simplicity of the composition, the lines and angles in the photo, the bold complementary colors, and the neutral black and tan which seem to push the red and green even further up the color chart. It all comes together like a freshly blended Christmas dessert.

So when a friend showed me some cute, contrived pictures on one of those send-around email slide shows, I clicked on Texas Woman to show him MY photos.

"But you just went around taking pictures of things you saw," he misspoke, dismissing the artistic eye needed to spot beauty in everyday things.

I wanted to respond with "Like golf is just you hitting a small ball into some little man-made hole." But of course I didn't say anything. I work for him Wednesday afternoons and want to keep doing so until our project is finished.

But it all reminded me of a story I heard many years ago at a mall art show. An oil painter strolling through the artist stalls stopped at a photographers booth to admire his pictures. "I love your photos," the artist said. "You must have a great camera."

Like me, the photographer said nothing. Later, as he roamed through the mall, he stopped at the same artist's stall and said, "I love your paintings. You must have some great brushes."

Ta-ta-da boom!

A recipe for friendship

2009-07-29T08:37:00.006-05:00

Feel free to take notes because I'm about to tell you how to make a good friend.

First take two ~~strange people~~ strangers, i.e. The Purple Goat Lady and The Texas Woman.

Mix together with two kinds of soups, one brownie with nuts, and two hours of small talk, trade secrets, and tall tales. Bring to a boil in the Texas heat.

Throw in three junk stores and a fabric store and stir well.

Add very little money, several good finds, and a home tour and bake well. When the timer goes off (sadly) and it's time to say good-bye, you will have, in the best use of the words, a new friend - a treasure not usually found at garage sales and thrift stores.

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-07-27T20:40:00.001-05:00

I love phat tats!

Thanks, Joan!

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

2009-07-25T09:11:00.009-05:00

Yesterday was genetic testing day. Since Sis has ovarian cancer and I have breast cancer, MDAnderson asked me to have the test to see if I have a BRCA1 or BRCA2 gene mutation. The results from the test won't be back for FOUR WEEKS.

Which means, of course, I sit around with cancer for four more weeks. As my MDA triage counselor said, people will think you're crazy but the end result will be worth it. It might mean having one operation instead of several.

Exactly how does this effect me, you ask. Well, ovarian cancer is harder to detect than breast cancer. So if I have the mutation, the doctor will just go ahead and remove my ovaries (called an oophorectomy. Yes, the word starts with double o's) at the same time he removes the lump, much simpler than waiting until cancer strikes there too. It also might mean taking the whole breast instead of just the lump.

Clear as mud? I thought so. But I can stand the waiting if you guys can stand me whining about it all the time!

Seriously, except for water running from my eyes when I read all your wonderful comments and emails, I've been upbeat (read: putting on a good front) so far. I do directly contribute my ability to deal with the situation to friends, family, and bloggers. You have all been so wonderful. Your comments have made me laugh, made me cry, and just plain made my day.

The other day Altered Glass asked for contributions to the age-old list: You might be addicted to blogging if.... Well, I'm here to say that I'm certainly glad I'm addicted to blogging. My world of friendships has widened significantly and I truly am thankful for each and every one of you. As long as I have my computer, I am not alone. Friendship is just a keyboard away.

Saga of the purple ta-ta

2009-07-22T11:02:00.000-05:00

This whole lump-in-the-breast thing is a learning experience. Take yesterday morning for instance.

For some reason Furniture Man, my temporary name for IT Guy since his mother is crazy as a bedbug and his wife as lumpy as an old couch, likes the alarm to go off 40 or more times before he gets out of bed. It was probably on its 14th ring when he rolled towards me, mammogramming my purple ta-ta. The resulting high-pitched screams are probably why he immediately achieved wakefulness and a coronary on the floor by the side of the bed.

Needless to say, Furniture Man quickly learned to be careful around me and I learned to sleep with my left arm in a permanent reverse Pledge-to-Allegiance position.

This morning, as the alarm blared its 29th ring, Furniture Man warily turned towards me. Sensing he was on the move, I, ever in my reverse Pledge-to-Allegiance position, raised up slightly to protect the purple ta-ta and slammed my mouth into his downward spiraling, sucker-punching fist!

To be honest it wasn't really a fist, just the relaxed hand position we all sleep in. And he really wasn't trying to hit me, just hold me. It was just as much my fault as it was his but nevertheless I did see stars. Not big stars like George Strait and Ally McBeal but D-list ones like Kathy Griffen and Kathy Gifford. There were also eight little stars which I think were the Gosselin children. I didn't see any falling stars so their parents, Jon and Kate, must have been out on dates.

My radiologist called this morning at 10:45 and told me my lump is malignant.

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-07-20T21:15:00.002-05:00

Although I am encouraging self-exams
and annual GYN exams,
I want you to know that
this man is
scamming women!

Don't fall for this!!!

This is NOT my radiologist!

Little did I know when Talkin' Trash sent this to me a couple of months ago,

that I would need this warning so badly. Thanks, Deb.

Photowalkin'

2009-07-19T21:19:00.009-05:00

Scott Kelby's Second Annual Worldwide Photo Walk was this past Saturday and I attended the one in nearby Brenham. Several of us gathered under the leadership of Santa Fe photographer and author Steven Walenta.

Steven told us to watch what's in the backgrounds of our photos and to remember that an interesting picture is better than a technically correct photo. With that said he pointed out a couple of things unique to the area and off we went in our separate directions.

So here are some of my shots:

Life on hold!

2009-07-19T13:09:00.007-05:00

WARNING: Partial breast photo ahead.

Don't you just love it when you meet someone new and they totally get you?

You know what I mean. You feel like you've known them all your life - or, at least, all their lives if they are eversomuch younger than you. And let's face it. Nowaday, who ain't younger than me, if you know what I mean!

Anyway, I met Amy and her sister Ann on vacation. They are cousins once removed, which means they are my cousin Chuck's children, making my kids and Amy and Ann second cousins. Their children will be third cousins, in case you've always wondered about such things - unless I can get Amy to marry one of my boys [legal in both states!] and then their children would be...goodness, I don't know what they'd be. Maybe monsters.

Anyway, Amy gets me. I know this because here is her email to me:

"Aunt Demanda, [She calls me that just because I snapped my fingers at her to get some gum!] I just read your news on your blog. Please tell me this is some crazy story concocted just so you can talk about your boobs on your blog!! [Does she get me or what!] However, I know this isn't true, since you would need NO reason at all to talk about your boobs on your blog. [Oh, she so gets me!]"

Isn't she gorgeous!

Anyway, since I don't want to disappoint Amy, let's boob talk.

I went to the radiologist to get my breast biopsies done. First, they deadened the area with a shot of xylocaine, just like your dentist uses. It stings just like any other shot. If you ask nice, they'll turn the screen of the computer towards you and you can watch it all since they use the sonogram machine to make sure they hit the tumor. After the first biopsy, I didn't bother looking again. Creepy!

Apparently, there are two types of needles they could use. One suctions part of the tumor into the core of the needle and then snips it off. The other one shoots the hollow needle into the tumor. They used the later on me. Two loud clicking noises are heard with each biopsy. They said they'd take three biopsies but took five instead.

I can't say I didn't feel anything but it was certainly something I could handle. I went home and put an ice pack on it. Of course, just like at the dentist, as the xylocaine wore off, I felt more but as long as the dogs didn't jump on me or someone didn't hug me, I was fine.

There is bruising. The very dark spot pretty much
shows the size and location of said tumor.
I named it Dennis the Menace because
it's a pain in the ~~arse~~ breast!

So now I wait for the results. I asked the radiologist if he could tell anything from looking at the extracted tissue and he said no. But, he said, the image on the sonogram does not look good.

Waiting....

Dear Journal

2009-07-16T08:34:00.005-05:00

Dear Journal,

Today we came home from our long vacation. Even the Texas heat feels good. It's downright cold up north! How do those Yankees stand it?

The Texas Woman
*********

Dear Journal,

Didn't have to work today so laid in bed late catching up on my TV watching. My fingers found a lump in my breast. Good thing my annual is already scheduled for next Tuesday. Funny how our body tells us things if we'll only listen! Probably nothing. Sure shows the importance of self-exams, though.

The Texas Woman
*********

Dear Journal,

Put M-I-L in the hospital tonight. A raging infection has taken over her body, making her hallucinate. She taught history all afternoon, her caregiver said. Old people don't always generate fevers. Since his mother is crazy as a bedbug and his wife lumpy as an old couch, I'll have to rename my husband Furniture Man! Poor guy.

The Texas Woman
*********

Dear Journal,

My GYN is "concerned" about my lump. Tried to get me in at the radiologist today but couldn't get me an appointment until tomorrow. The speed of it all makes me nervous.

The Texas Woman
*********

Dear Journal,

Had my mammogram and sonogram today. Yup. It's a lump, all right. A dern tumor. The radiologist gave me the option of surgery to yank it out to analyze or a needle biopsy to see what we're dealing with. I chose the needle. Ouch. Hurts to think about. I'll tell you, dear journal, all about it soon.

The Texas Woman
*********

Your Shot Jigsaw Puzzle

2009-06-24T10:21:00.004-05:00

Enjoy working puzzles everyday while I fiddle around!

This blog closed due to the heat!

2009-06-17T07:47:00.005-05:00

The heat is on! The cops are after me and once again I'm on the dodge. To make matters worst, summer has laid upon Texas like an itchy wool blanket. So I'm closing up my laptop and relinquishing my blogging credentials until...

cooler weather?
I feel like typing again?
I get some stuff done around this old house?
I consummate my marriage?
All of the above!

Have a great summer, my blogging friends!

Love ya,

Lone shoe in the Lone Star State!

2009-06-16T15:48:00.009-05:00

Just how does something like this happen? One left shoe in the lost and found. Didn't the owner realize as she was walkin' away that things weren't exactly right?

Admittedly, I see lone shoes by the side of the road all the time here in Texas. One tennis shoe. One rubber boot. One flip flop. But I've never seen one cowboy boot. I guess cowboys know when to hold 'em and know when to walk away...with both boots on - which, of course, reminds me of the song The Gambler, made famous by Kenny Rogers.

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.
There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.

I bet you junk dealers didn't realized until just now that the above chorus of that song was written just for you!

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-06-15T22:18:00.002-05:00

Just thought my short-armed friends would want to know!

The misspellings in the text below the ad are on the website.

For over a hundred years we've been using toilet tissues the same old way. Now there's a better way with the extended reach and comfortable to use Comfort Wipe™. It grabs and holds the toilet tissue in perfect postions so you can easily wipe yourself. When you're done, just dispense the soiled tissue right in the toilet with the press of a button. Comfort Wipe™ extends your reach a full 18" while the anotomical design follows the contours of your body for perfect cleaning. It's perfect for everyone, especially if you have trouble easily reaching because of physical limitations such as bad shoulder or other mobility litimations. Now you'll never have to touch a dirty toilet tissue!

Thanks, SIE.

Walking with a professional!

2009-06-14T18:54:00.013-05:00

NOT a professional streetwalker! A professional photographer!

If you live in Brenham, Texas, close to Brenham, Texas, or could get to Brenham, Texas, on July 18, you have the opportunity to take a photo walk with Santa Fe professional photographer, author, and teacher Steven Walenta.

Steven will come back home to Texas to be the local walk leader for the worldwide Scott Kelby's Second Annual Worldwide Photo Walk on that date. The walk will start on the east side of the beautiful and historical Washington County courthouse. Then we'll (you're darn right I'll be there) wander around the downtown area for several hours, all the while taking photos under Steven's professional guidance.

Because of the heat, and to make use of the best natural lighting, the walk will start at 6:45 P.M.

I guess this is last year's video so don't get confused by the date and prizes on the video. THE DATE THIS YEAR IS JULY 18!!!! Don't know nuthin' about no prizes fer dis here year!

To register for this event, or if you have questions, go here.

Steven has strong ties to our area, having taught photography classes for the City of College Station and Texas A & M University from 1995 to 1999. Since 2002, he has taught classes for the Santa Fe Community College in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

I'll post about this exciting walk again as the date gets closer.

And I hope to see y'all there!

The door to nowhere!

2009-06-13T13:30:00.002-05:00

I took my favorite rug off the floor last December because visiting dogs with nervous tummies did obscene things to it.

I hung it on the living room wall but it still needed something.

I decided it needed a door...a door to nowhere. Something I could hang art on. Something that would break up the busy pattern of the rug. Something for the eye to focus on. In other words, it needed the depth that layering a door on it would give.

So I varnished this green, chippy, scared door. It's over a hundred-years. I got it out of an old farmhouse in Brenham. It had a twin in red but I made that one into a lift-up coffee table for my daughter Code Woman (CW).

One day CW called me and said (and I quote here), "I've left (insert name of her husband here) but I took the coffee table with me!" She loves her chippy door/table as much as I do.

Isn't this better? Even Sally Sue thinks so as she naps on the back of the sofa. (Note Steven Walenta original photo on black washstand!)

This is the first painting that I've completed in many, many a year. I thought my new/old door was the perfect place to feature it.

One of life's parallels!

2009-06-11T09:43:00.013-05:00

Projects are an important part of me and always have been. They’ve gotten me through every major crisis in my life and, just like you, I’ve had a few crises.

I first became aware of this important project/problem parallel when I was nine-years old and my parents decided to divorce. This was an uncommon event in our small town and certainly a disaster for me. It made me very sad and I was lonely for my dad.

We didn’t have a television set in our home and I don’t know why. Certainly we could afford it, one small box of living images, even though we only had one channel in our town, no national feed coming into our isolated valley.

Our neighbors on Texas Avenue (I do not tell a lie here. We lived at 816 Texas Avenue) had a TV but they didn’t have small children, only two older girls. Still, the man of the house found me in his living room in front of his TV many an afternoon. Instead of shooing me away, this good man took a page from Tom Sawyer and gave me a large art gum eraser and showed me how to clean the cork tile in his living room, inventing, in the process, the first ever pay-for-view television.

“It’s very important,” he told me, “to clean just one tile at a time, staying within its lines. That way it looks neat while we’re working on the floor.” I loved the way he used that magic word “we”.

So every afternoon, I’d slip away from my own troubled house and go next door, retrieve my art gum eraser from its secret hiding place, turn on the TV, and erase my problems away.

I’d sit Indian style and erase. I’d stretch out on my tummy and erase. I’d be on my hands and knees erasing. Many times I didn’t even bother to turn on the television. I just erased. The act of working on an important project was healing to this little girl.

Sometimes the man would have cleaned several tiles himself in my absence but I noticed more and more that it was just me working on the project and I felt proud that he’d judged my work competent enough for this little girl to handle the project all by herself.

If he could have only taught me math too...

The big middle name reveal!

2009-06-09T19:41:00.004-05:00

Believe it or not, I’m not hung up on this Jon and Kate (+ 8, the TV show) thing like so many people are. It’s just that I happen to have a lot in common with Jon.

For instance, we both hate Kate.

Also, at any given moment at least two of our own children (more, in his case, ‘cause he has so many) irritate us no end.

Plus, we both hate Kate. I know I said that already but after watching a rerun late last night when I couldn’t sleep, I feel it bears repeating. Or should that be “bares repeating” because I was in bed nekkid while I was watching the show (satin sheets feel good on the skin).

But the main thing I have in common with Jon (besides the hate-Kate thingy) is that one of his dogs is named after me. Not my first name. My middle name. The name that is my father’s name spelled backwards. The name that is also my sister’s middle name.

Jon’s other dog is named Shoka.

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-06-08T20:54:00.001-05:00

Sad but true!

Why I'd hate to be a man!

2009-06-06T22:49:00.003-05:00

My waist size would be right on my butt
for all the world to see!

Neck and neck...and more neck!

2009-06-05T12:39:00.006-05:00

Just as a woman’s shoes reveal her financial situation, her neck tells her true age. So I was shocked the other day to look in a mirror and see that my neck had aged faster than the rest of my body.

I have more chins than Chinatown. My throat alone could make enough giblet gravy to feed all of Bryan at Thanksgiving. And I could make a medium sized lampshade from the excess skin. I think you get the picture.

My. Neck. Is. Old! How did this happen? When did this happen? More importantly, what can I do about it?

Plastic surgery is out. Too painful as well as too expensive. It costs an arm and a leg, which, by the way, are still lookin’ good! I don’t want to be tradin’ away parts of me that still are fairly attractive.

I could, I guess, wear turtlenecks all year long, but then again it gets pretty hot here in Texas during the summer. Sometimes during the winter too.

I thought about scarves at the neck, but then I remembered how silly Candice Bergman looked doing that. It’s one thing to get old and another to get ridiculous!

The answer to my dilemma came walking into class Thursday.

With a higher neckline and a gender switch, I think Don's T-shirt could be the answer to my neck problem!

In fact, the answer to several problems!

Answering a tag!

2009-06-02T20:57:00.003-05:00

Lisa of La Rustique Market had this foolish idea she wanted to tag me and find out seven things that I haven't already blabbed about on this blog. I told her she'd be sorry!

At the end of my seven I'm to tag a couple of people I'd like to know more about. That's when you'll be sorry I tagged YOU!

So anyway, let's get this about me over with!

1. My middle name is my father’s first name spelled backwards.

2. My sister has the same middle name as I do.

3. When I was married to Two, we kept snakes in aquariums in our bedroom.

4. I was afraid of water and couldn’t swim a lick until I started water aerobics when I was in my mid fifties.

5. I HAVE to sleep with a fan directly on me.

6. I’m afraid of heights but loved ziplining and would do it again in a heartbeat!

7. A man once GAVE me a racehorse. I renamed him Bubba (the horse, not the man).

I'd like to know more about so many of you out there in Bloggerville but for now I've tagged the following bloggers:

Whispering Pine Cottage Antiques

The Sweet Gardenia

Midway Records

What Now?

Jodielejeune

Tagged! You're IT!

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-06-01T21:03:00.000-05:00

Just because of the placement of the trigger and cork,
this water gun man HAS to be a superhero!

Signs from God

2009-05-31T11:51:00.011-05:00

I’m always on the lookout for signs that God throws my way. I don’t seem to respond to His subtle hints. He needs the full thrust of thrown lightning bolts and booming thunder when telling me something!

Take the time IT Guy and I and several cousins were visiting the horse racing track near Dallas. As I turned to ITy to suggest placing another bet, the lens from my eyeglasses popped out and fell into his lap.

Sign from God: Stop betting.

Then there was the time I decided to grab 20 minutes to go to a junk store when I should have been working. I turned behind a car that was stopped at a red light just as that driver decided to back up - right into the side of my car.

Sign from God: That one kinda confused me. It was either Stop going to junk stores or Stop cheating on your employer by junking on his time. I chose He meant the latter.

I’m not the only one who needs heavy signs from God. Ol’ Jon and Kate of reality TV fame can’t seem to see the trainwreck coming down the road either, so God keeps throwing them bigger and bigger lightning bolts - this time in the form of an investigation into the abuse of child labor laws.

Don’t Jon and Kate realize that by drawing attention to themselves, they’re making it harder and harder for good people like the Octomom to get her own show?

So just in case J & K + 8 is taken off the airways, I’m offering them titles for a new show, based on other popular series. After all, I'd hate for them to have to get real jobs!

Jon Plus Date With Eight On The Weekends
The O.C.D.
How I Left Your Mother
Desperate Multiples
Law and Order: Kate’s Special Victims
Num8ers
The Dysfunctional Unit
Rescue Us
Terminator: The Kate Story
Cold Kate

What show titles can you offer J & K? They need your help!

When is a cake not a cake?

2009-05-28T20:54:00.010-05:00

When it's a plate of spaghetti!

This was a fun cake to make and eat! It's a crowd pleaser, yet so simple and doesn't take much skill at all!

I gently sculptured a plate in the top layer but you don't have to go to that much trouble. Just pile on a lot of frosting-spaghetti, squirted straight from a Wilson decorating tip. The spaghetti sauce is pie cherry juice out of a can. I used the cherries themselves in something else. If the juice is too thin and runny, mix a little corn starch into it until it's the consistency you want.

Told you it was simple! Want a piece?

My bedside companion!

2009-05-27T18:39:00.000-05:00

Dateline: Houston

Apparently, a Texas woman (no, not me!) shot a man in the back as he was running away with her purse.

When asked to explain her actions, the woman stated she was on a street corner waiting for a bus to take her to her job as a waitress. It was a little scary, she added.

Dern, knowing Houston, it was a lot scary!

Anyway, her purse was hanging over her left shoulder but she had her hand inside it, gripping the butt of her pistol. (I told you it had to be dern scary!)

"All of a sudden," the woman said, "I was being spun around hard to my left. As I caught my balance, I saw a man running away from me with my purse!"

"I looked down at my right hand and I saw that my fingers were still wrapped tightly around my pistol. The next thing I remember is saying out loud, "No way, punk! You're not stealing my pay check and tips."

So she shot him six times!

"Why did you shoot the man six times?" the judge asked.

The woman replied, "Because when I pulled the trigger the seventh time, it only went click."

2009-05-25T22:11:00.002-05:00

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

Don't know why.
Don't know who.
Don't wanna know why or who.

2009-05-24T21:03:00.002-05:00

On this Memorial Day
I'd like to pay tribute to my nephew,
shown here on the throne of Saddam Hussein
(which shows a little about what that dictator was thinking),
and to all the men and women of our military, past and present,
who safeguard our country,
as well as to the wives, husbands, parents, and children
our military personnel leave behind
while they do their jobs!

Now on to our monthly make-over...
Grind out another lamp!

I love lamps and I've got lots of 'em. But that's OK because I have it on good authority (read Jen R. at Sanctuary Arts) that a room needs seven sources of light, including mirrors, lamps, and windows.

Combine that decorating tip with Candy's (from Junk Sphisticate) request for ideas on what to do with a rusty old meat grinder and I decided to feature one of my kitchen lamp on Sanctuary Arts monthly make-over.

No, the photo above isn't of Candy's meat grinder, nor is it of mine. In fact, I stole the picture (sorry, whoever) but I wanted to show you what mine looked like in its original "before" form...only with the rust. Lots of rust.

The wingnut-like thingy clamps the mechanism to a table or counter but to turn this grinder into a lamp, it has to go. You'll probably need to use a hacksaw to make it do so.

Removal leaves a threaded hole and that's a good thing 'cause now you're going to screw a hollow threaded lamp fitting pipey thingy (notice the exact wording in this post) into that hole. A lamp cord goes up through that hollow fitting and you then proceed to wire the lamp socket and fasten it to the grinder. Check the Internet on wiring lamps. I always have to look it up since with my dyslexia (read Alzheimers), I can never remember which wire goes on which screw post.

Now turn the grinder upside down so that it sets on the mouth where it once disgorged (yucky word) ground meat.

Notice the lamp has a short cord. When I made it, I knew exactly where I wanted the lamp to go - on the kitchen counter near a plug receptacle. I don't like a lot of dangling cords on kitchen counters!

I just realized that in the picture the cord looks like it goes through the grinder but it doesn't. I just hangs from the hole and travels behind the grinder.

Add a lamp shade and you have a neat lamp, if I do say so myself!

2009-05-22T19:48:00.004-05:00

Tote that barge! Lift that bale!
And do it with Forearm Forklifts!

Because I haul home heavy ~~junk~~ stuff, I have a set of As Seen On TV Forearm Forklifts! I used them just the other evening when I hauled back to my lair this primitive, old wardrobe that my friend Ruthie gave me.

Now, before you go thinking that Ruthie is such a dear for giving this wardrobe to me, remember that she is moving and the wardrobe is very heavy! She just didn't want to move it herself so she kept calling friends until some sucker (me) accepted the "gift"!

Big! Heavy! Old! No, not the husband. The wardrobe.

But I did mention to her a long time ago that I liked it so maybe she did call me first! Thank you, Ruthie!

This is how you use the Forearms. The grimace on my face is a reenactment but the lifting is real.

With a little bit of work and some furniture wax, I've got decorative storage. Stay tuned but don't hold your breath. It might take me a while!

2009-05-21T09:47:00.007-05:00

Hide the fine china!

Interesting friends and good food lead to appealing conversations, I always say.

Or is it interesting conversations about good friends are always appealing?

Whichever, both were true the other evening.

Steaks were grilling over hot coals and yellow cake with Godiva chocolate icing waited to be sliced when Margie decided to tell us about a conversation with her little granddaughter.

“Out of the clear blue," Margie said, "Sissy told me that her mother told her not to show anyone her fine china.”

Cher's fine china

Now Margie has some very nice china and uses it on special occasions such as Thanksgiving and Christmas, always with the same warning to her daughters upon cleanup: “Don't put my fine china in the dishwasher. Hand wash it and put it away."

But Sissy’s mommy doesn’t have any nice tableware. With toddlers in the house, it’s just not a priority yet.

“So I said to Sissy,” Margie continued, “ ‘Fine china? What china was Mommy talking about?’ ”

“You know, Grandmaw,” the child replied.

“I’m afraid I don’t know,” Margie countered.

“Yes, you do,” Sissy insisted.

“No, I don’t,” Margie doggedly repeated.

“Grandmaw!” Sissy said pointing to her lap. “This fine china!”

Apparently, vagina wasn’t in Sissy’s young vocabulary but the little girl knew a thing or two about fine china - put it away and keep it hidden!

True story!

2009-05-20T21:27:00.000-05:00

I got sauced today!

I fall off the wagon and get sauced about once a month. It's really easy to do in the microwave and the results are terrific.

Just combine:

2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons flour
1/2 teaspoon salt

...in a one quart glass dish (it needs to be that large to prevent boilover) and microwave for two minutes, stirring after one minute.

Gradually stir in 1 cup milk. Stirring every minute, microwave for 3 1/2 minutes or until thick and bubbly. A wire whisk or fork will give you a smoother sauce with minimum stirring.

This makes one cup of white sauce...

...and is really good on salmon patties, among other things.

Variations:

Curry sauce - Add two to three teaspoons curry powder along with flour. Follow above directions.
Thick sauce - Use three tablespoons flour instead of two tablespoons. Follow above directions.
Dill sauce - To finished sauce, add two teaspoons dill weed and one teaspoon lemon juice.
Horseradish sauce - To finished sauce, add one to two teaspoons cream style horseradish.
Cheese sauce - Add a cup of shredded sharp cheese and a dash of cayenne pepper to finished sauce. Microwave another minute or two to melt cheese.

Would you like to know how to make microwaved gravy?

2009-05-19T15:24:00.008-05:00

Breakin' bad news on my blog!

I have bad news and I can't seem to tell my sista.

You see, Sis is madly in love with the Freecreditreport dude on TV. The bad news is that the guy on the commercials, Eric Violette, is a French-Canadian actor who speaks with a strong accent. Consequently, Eric doesn't sing those songs! Somebody else does.

Eric, cutie though he may be, only lip syncs. Sista's in love with somebody who doesn't even exist. She'll be crushed!

Heckfire, I was crushed.

It was like finding out your boyfriend stuffs rolled-up socks down his pants!

Or that your kid isn't enrolled in college like you thought and you've been giving him tuition money for years!

Or that PJ and Malisa are really...well, you get the picture. I don't have to divulge everything I know!

Here's Eric in the snappy commercials of a product I'd never buy. Be sure to watch the second video all the way through. It's a take-off of one of the credit commercials and has a darling ending!

Oh, and sorry, Sis, to break the news to you this way. Love ya, though!

2009-05-18T21:06:00.002-05:00

Excuse me...while I interrupt Tasteless Tuesday but I want to tell you about a virtual writers' conference going on RIGHT NOW and for the next four days. It's free! It's fun! And you'll learn a lot!

It's all done through posts on this blog:

http://virtualwritersconference.blogspot.com

You can follow Gayle on twitter too!

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-05-17T11:24:00.005-05:00

(cont'd) The Landlady home:
Window treatments and
miscellaneous, darling details

I don't think I need to use words here. Just feast your eyes on these photos!

Hope you enjoyed the tour. I know I did!

2009-05-16T17:54:00.005-05:00

Shoppin' on the foreign foods aisle!

Groceries stores in the U.S. are quite the experience, one Americans take for granted. We can buy anything in them – turkey breast, pork butt, spotted dick… Yes, I said spotted dick. Don’t stop reading now. You KNOW you want to know what I’m talking about!

Apparently, from the dust on these cans, Americans don’t eat much spotted dick. But the British do. It’s their concoction of pudding with currants (hence the term spotted), which is sold in a can.

But how did it get the name “dick”?

I asked my British friend Doris.

“Spotted dick,” explained the sweet old woman, pronouncing each word with ladylike clarity and no giggles, “means spotted dog.”

“Then why didn’t they just call the pudding spotted dog or cut out the dern reference altogether?” I asked.

“It is what it is,” she explained in that curt, British way. “Put a yellow sauce on it and it’s called treacle dick.” I didn’t even let my mind go there and neither should you.

I did a little digging on the Internet and found a lot of references for dick usage – a cop, an abbreviation for dictionary, a riding whip, an apron, and a penis – but not for pudding nor dog.

One source stated it might be the fault of those tricky British accents. You know, “pudding” becoming “puddink,” then “puddick,” and finally just “dick.”

Heck, I’m just tickled they sell it at my local grocery store!

2009-05-15T21:31:00.003-05:00

Push me over with a feather!

Last week in a free pile at a garage sale I pulled out a stack of decorating magazines and hurried home with my stash of goodies. "Free" and "decorating mags" are two of my favorite things.

Working my way through the magazines, I spied an article about our favorite folk artist P.J. Hornberger. It was right there on page 26 of the May 2000 issue of Country Living!

You could have pushed me over with a feather!

You saw it here first, folks...well, second!

2009-05-14T17:00:00.015-05:00

What a kitchen!

The Texas rains delayed a long awaited lunch at the beautiful country home of Lyndy Landlady but I was so glad we had waited for sunny weather. Rocking in the shade of her covered porch and gazing out over her pasture and woodlot made for a delightful afternoon.

But you want to see her kitchen!

Or do you want to sit out here a little longer?

Too early in the day for deer, I guess, so we might as well go inside.

The first thing you notice when you walk into Lyndy's kitchen is...well, I don't know. My eyes were trying to go everywhere at once - the sinks, the ceiling, the counters, the china. So I'll start with the sinks.

Yes, I said sinks. The main workhorse is a lovely copper farm sink, decorated with - what else - Texas stars.

A small bar sink, also star-studded copper, is near the stove in a counter between the kitchen and living room. Trust me here, I have sink envy!

Below: This bar, located on the back side of the farm sink counter, is in the formal dining area.

And while we're in this area, look up. A large copper square highlights the ceiling fan.

But really the copper is an extension of the kitchen ceiling decor. Oh, my. My photos just don't do the ceiling justice...plus I'm getting dizzy looking up!

So let's look at Lyndy's china at the far end of the kitchen eating area.

Outstanding.

A delicious, healthy lunch awaited but I just couldn't stop taking pictures. Lyndy's granite countertop GOES ALL THE WAY TO HER CEILING! Is not that divine?

The colors in the granite and the extra detailing puts this kitchen over the top!

And it wouldn't be a farmhouse kitchen without a huge walk-in pantry.

Lunch was delightful, as promised. Wish you could have been there, but oh, that's right. You weren't invited!

More darling details of Lyndy's house coming soon!

2009-05-12T10:22:00.008-05:00

Peanut butter is not just for kids!

I like vintage things.

And I like peanut butter.

So this post is sort of like the peanut butter candy commercial that shows the kid saying, "Hey, you got peanut butter on my chocolate!" Only I got peanut butter on my vintage tin.

Ya see, I bought some great vintage tins at a garage sale last weekend. One, a darling deep blue number with a cute little tin handle, had a little problem. Dried on, vintage adhesive was across the front of the tin.

Not that I cared because I could just turn the tin around and display the back which had the same image. But it was the challenge of it all!

See the old glue? I mean it was baked on!

But I had read a list of household hints on Magnolia Memories blog and thought I knew the solution to the tin's problem.

Peanut butter.

So I slathered it on with a butter knife! Hours later I wiped it off and the adhesive looked only slightly different. IT Guy, looking over my shoulder, told me I didn't leave it on long enough. "Spread some more peanut butter on it when you make me a sandwich and this time leave it on longer."

Well, he didn't get his sandwich (his arms aren't broken!) but I did re-peanut butter the tin.

Two days later I wiped the goo off and polished the tin with a soft cloth and bingo! No vintage glue on the tin!

Here are all my new tins! Some cuties for a dollar each, huh?

So I went back to Magnolia Memories to say thanks and guess what? That hint wasn't on her list! I'd made it up in my head!

But her list of hints is still real good. Jump over there and tell her I said hello!

2009-05-11T21:21:00.000-05:00

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-05-10T11:27:00.002-05:00

Mother’s Day.
Bah. Humbug!

If you're the type who gets all misty eyed over this holiday, stop reading. This is for the parentally handicapped only.

And don’t email me what a bad daughter I am. I already know that. My mother told me so a thousand times.

For some of us, picking out cards for this holiday is tough. The verses on them are sugar-coated, smoochy, flowery, sucky up things that just don’t say what we really want them to say.

You don’t think so? How long did it take YOU to pick out a Mother’s Day card for your dear mother?

After looking at a million or so cards over the years, I’ve learned to translate the verses. As a public service, I offer the following:

Card: May your days be full of blooming bouquets of flowers.
Translation: To make sure, I’ll send them to the funeral home myself!

Card: Thank you for all the things you’ve taught me.
Translation: I’ll make sure you remember to take your bipolar meds from now on!

Card: You’re so sharing and giving.
Translation: Can I borrow some money?

Card: Happy Mother’s Day from across the miles.
Translation: And let’s keep it that way!

But the most difficult card to find is one appropriate for a nursing home resident. I offer the following verse to card makers:

While wheeling down
Those nursing home hallways,
Trying to remember
Where your room is,
Don’t forget I’ll love always
The fact you’re not
Living at my house.

OK, so it’s not perfect. I’m working on it.

Write your own nursing home card verse in the comments!

2009-05-08T15:50:00.000-05:00

A Warm Welcome

I adore the entryway in the home of Janice, the linen lady. It says, "Come in. We're glad you're here!"

Janice did the 3-D pattern herself using a 3-D stencil and hard molding paste. Then she painted the whole thing with the warm, welcoming choice of color.

She even did the ceiling. Can you believe it?

What a stunning detail!

No, the picture below isn't the entryway. It's her bathroom and I had to show you her wall finish and color in there. Don't ya love it?

2009-05-07T18:33:00.006-05:00

Faux painting inside and out

Janice, the linen lady, loves faux painting as much as I do. She doesn't see a blank wall. She sees a canvas just waiting to bloom under her artistic direction.

Take the the cinder block wall that surrounds the patio area at her condo. A little paint turned it from an eyesore that provided privacy into a piece of art that enhances her plants instead of the other way around.

Nice, huh?

Come back tomorrow and see Janice's entry way. I guarantee you'll like it!

2009-05-06T11:37:00.005-05:00

Seed bead angel pin

This is a fun project with stunning results - if you have three hours of life you don't need anymore, because that's how long this little beauty takes me to make! Unreal, huh?

And it's impossible to photograph in focus. Trust me, I tried many times!

Here's the pattern. The trick is to keep the string from showing and to have the front look the same as the back. The pencil drawing below the pattern of the body is my attempt at showing you how it's threaded together.

Don't forget to make the top of her halo which isn't included in the pattern. The single "leg" is one piece of the dress.

Oh, and use a magnifying glass that fastens onto your table top. It will save your eyes from a lot of strain!

Glue a tie tac type pin on the angel's back and you're done...until your friends see it and want one too.

My cousin pinned the one I made her onto her hospital pillow so when she woke up from an operation, it was the first thing she saw.

2009-05-05T09:25:00.003-05:00

Totally Tasteless Tuesday

2009-05-03T12:01:00.013-05:00

The Great Zipper Hunts

My Aunt Nell was the original queen of all things pre-approved (read: used). She recycled and junked long before garage sales were an idea in some crazy woman’s head.

Even though Aunt Nell didn’t have yard sales to go to, she did have an old, musty secondhand store in the neighborhood. When Aunt Nell needed sewing notions, she’d give her daughter Janice and me a couple of nickels and send us up the hill to THE STORE. With color in mind and size (buttons), length (zippers), and width (lace), Janice and I would sort through richer women’s relinquished clothing at THE STORE, trying to match their parts to Aunt Nell’s needs.

I think that’s where my appreciation for box-digging and treasure hunting first outed. It helped, of course, that the boxes held the cheaper clothing. Rack clothing, the more expensive items (fifty cents, at least), wasn’t nearly as interesting and anyway, if Janice and I saved a little money on the soon-to-be-ripped-up and recycled clothing, we could get gum on the way back home. New gum. Gum that hadn’t been chewed yet.

You see, we didn’t just spit our gum out when we grew tired of it. We saved it on little china hands so we could chew it later in the day, or the next day, or even the next week, although that was a hard chew and sometimes a little dusty. But all that old gum needed was a quick rinse at the kitchen sink (the only sink in the house) and our strong, youthful teeth to whip it into chewability.

So with new gum at stake, Janice and I participated weekly in great zipper hunts because Aunt Nell needed lots of zippers, especially dress zippers.

Dress zippers aren’t found in lower end stores nowadays but they were real popular back then when women wore dresses and pearls to clean their houses (shudder!). These zippers are closed at both ends. Think an operation with a zipper closure.

Or a mouth that must be unzipped in order to eat.

These zippers are normally used at waistlines on fitted dresses so women (or cross-dressing men with good figures) can slip them easily over their heads.

But, of course, Aunt Nell had other ideas for the dress zippers. She invented Aunt Nell’s Little Picnic Helpers (ANLPHs).

In An Lefts, as my Uncle John called the Little Helpers, a dress zipper was placed in the crotch.

You see, we camped out in the mountains a lot. A LOT! And Aunt Nell, noting how fortunate men were in such peeing situations, created An Lefts, enabling us girls to squat and go as easily as any guy, without exposing our bare bottoms to the cold mountain air.

2009-05-02T11:34:00.001-05:00

Delish dish from Jamie
at Bumps In the Road

Jamie calls this dish Potato Sticks. I call it good and easy.

4 medium potatoes, peeled and cut how you like them.
2 1/2 tsp. seasoned salt
1/2 cup Parmesan Cheese
1/4 cup butter

In a 9" glass dish make a layer using half the potatoes, half the seasoning, half the cheese, and half the butter. Repeat using remainder of ingredients.

Sprinkle with paprika. Microwave covered for about 15-18 minutes. Let stand 5 minutes.

I served the potato dish with fried (in olive oil) pork chops heaped with fried (in olive oil) onions, corn, and our favorite biscuit. Yummy.

Thanks, Jamie.

2009-04-30T16:12:00.000-05:00

That's so Mickey Mouse!

On my way to work last Saturday morning {Shudder down my spine! I hate working Saturdays!} I tripped over a garage sale two blocks from my house.

The sale was so Mickey Mouse! No, I really mean that. The sale had a lot of Mickey Mouse stuff!

I'm not that into Mickey - or Minnie, for that matter - but I was attracted to seven Mickey and Minnie non-working watches.

I asked how much and the lady told me fifty cents. I muttered out loud, "Fifty cents times one, two, three..." but the lady interrupted me.

"No, fifty cents for all the watches," she explained.

All? The Mickeys? The Minnies? The plain faced? The Santa? The cat? COOL!

"OK. Then how much for the cross?"

"Oh, a quarter."

I went on to work happier than when I started out, that's for sure.

So I took off all the straps, wired the Mickey/Minnie watch faces together, and put magnetic closures on the ends to create a cutie of a junk bracelet.

I know it's cute because Renee said so!

2009-04-29T21:31:00.007-05:00

A whispering
friend

Snailmail brings us
Bills and junk,
Letters not so much,
And surprises very rarely.

But yesterday
A pale envelope
Whispered friendship
And delivered beauty.

I treasure both,
WhisperWoman.

Thank you.