Confession part 2

This is only my second vacation of any length in the past twenty odd years. Probably the only vacation with a majority of my family in forever. I know, I know...it's about damn time. Heaven knows when I'll remember to take another vacation.

So in order to make up for all the missed family vacations, we packed as much as we could into this one. Today's adventures included a boat ride watching dolphins surf in front of a big boat, a tour of most of the U.S.S. Lexington and a dip into the Gulf. The last excursion included an illegally caught fish via Myrtle the Younger's swimsuit (no fishing license and the poor kamakazi fish was way too small-shh, don't tell anyone).

Fun was had by all. There are a few sporting sunburns and generally all of us are making old people noises (we are sucking down Advil like it's going off the market). Getting out of any chair requires an act of Congress and all hands on deck.

Tomorrow we get the privilege of leaving this paradise behind and making the 6-7 hour (or more) trek to reality.

I don't wanna go!!! Wah!!!

T

Confession

Yes, I must confess...I have spent very little of my life at the beach. Now, in my 40+ years on this earth, I have come to realize I might be missing something.

Now to be fair, I live in Texas. We have Galveston and Padre Island. And we have heat. I mean HOT heat. You would think this Texas girl would high tail her hind quarter to one of the above locales at least once a year or so. Not so.  For one, it's about 4-5 hours to Galveston and 6-7 hours to Padre. Long car ride aside, I can count on one foot how many times I have actually been to a beach, most of which were in high school (ugh).

My first excuse lies with the story of my mother and her worst sunburn ever (blisters et al) from sitting on a tailgate while at Padre Island. I don't know about you, but I have spent my life trying to avoid sunburns. Plus, I married a redhead and birthed another.  'Nuf said.

Secondly, did I mention that it's hot in Texas? The thought of playing around in water (relective sunburns are nasty) in the heat of the day in order to "cool off" doesn't make sense to me. That's what air conditioning is for. Or a shade tree with a lovely breeze.  There are no shade trees at the beach. The idea of sitting, standing, walking on a beach all day fills me with the heebie-geebies.

Then there's the whole sand between your toes bit. Yeah...why should I cut my feet to bits with tiny glass shards? Or stub my toe on a jellyfish?

So anyway, Mimi got the bright idea to go dolphin watching. I am on board with watching dolphins. A bonus is seeing a shipwreck. Cool! So Mimi makes arrangements for said boat tour.  Then my baby brudder makes arrangements for a condo near the beach. Still good.

So here we be, on Padre Island for Labor Day weekend to watch dolphins while staying in a condo near the beach. It is only when we gorge ourselves on a Japanese Hibachi dinner that I truly realize the value of beach time. Mi espouso, Myrtle the Younger and I take a quick stroll down to the beach to say we have done so. It was already evening, most of the daytime beach goers were leaving or gone and those left showed me the possibilities I have been missing: evening breeze, warm water, cool sand, beachfront campfires. I'm telling you, this is what noone talks about. I am sold.

The dolphin tour is tomorrow. I'll probably have more to say about that. Maybe I'll have some pictures to post.

T

Getting There

I thought I was ready. I've always been ready. For the first step. For the first day of kindergarten. For high school graduation. All those firsts you envision for your child, I was ready and cheering the girls on to success.

Yeah, I was the mom whose child crawled into the nursery like she owned it (she actually thought she did; it was the church nursery and she called it "my school"). I was the mom proudly watching my daughter walk into kindergarten while the mom next to me sobbed. I turned to the poor woman and said, "They're okay, let's go grab the donuts." (The school was kind enough to offer breakfast and reassurances for grieving parental units.)

There was something exciting about watching the girls move forward in life, meeting goals (required and desired), figuring out who they are and what they want to do. Sure there were things that could have gone better, mistakes were made. We got through and learned from each experience. I couldn't wait to see what was next.

I will admit to not being ready for the hardest part: letting go.

Friday morning, Myrtle the eldest, with a car stuffed the rafters, left for Georgia to follow her dreams. Georgia. As in a long freaking way away from Texas. Sure I sent the girls on mission trips, choir tours, band trips, and let them travel  God's green earth with family and friends. In fact, both girls have been places I have never been and don't expect to see in my lifetime. That was my plan: allow the girls to think of the world as their backyard. For some reason in my preparations for my children growing up, I never really considered them LEAVING Texas. The backyard is a great place to visit, but I don't want my kids to live there.

I guess this is payback for my lack of sympathy for the kindergarten mom.

Myrtle says she'll be back. Eventually. But it will be different. She'll be married and working as a nurse by then, maybe even have a baby or two, and Myrtle the Younger will be moving on with her life. That's hard to think about right now.

I'll get there. Eventually.
T.

This is Texas

I am cold.

Yes, I live in Texas which typically has summer temperatures ten degrees higher than Hell (and Hell doesn't have the humidity). This week will see the first 100 degree temperature streak BEFORE the heat index.

Here I sit, at 10:22 p.m., on July 18, outside temp of 85 (feels like 91), AC set at whatever setting my hot-natured espouso determines necessary for survival, and sitting under a freaking ceiling fan. I should be comfortable, right? Wrong. I sit here in silent misery wearing a crocheted wrap over a 3/4 sleeve cardigan, sipping hot tea with honey (and just a smidge of Crown Maple). And, as soon as I finish this little rant, I will be putting finishing touches on my next crocheted sweater. For dinner, I made Lima Bean Soup (yum!). I keep extra blankies by my bed just in case the comforter doesn't cut it. They're small ones that cover just me, not the espouso. The dog is rather opposed to those as well this time of year.

I tell you, people, I am cold. I go outside to warm up and stay there until the humidity makes me sweat, then I go in. I can appreciate the AC for about 5 minutes after that, but then I'm done. Do not put any AC vent or fan directly on me or you will lose important body parts. (You would think mi espouso would have figured this out after 32 years. No. He hasn't.)

Now could someone please explain how I can be freezing my keister off in July, when I am perfectly comfortable the rest of the year when the temperatures run in the 70s and 80s? It's a good thing I don't live in Montana, or even the Texas panhandle, for that matter.

Rant over. Blankie calling.

T.

Any Good Parent...

I know, I know...2 posts in 1 week. I just had a startling realization and thought I'd share. The world might just not know what to do with this information. I sure don't know what to do with it, except attempt to rectify the situation ASAP.

There we sat, in the restaurant for Mi Espouso's 50th birthday, having a lovely conversation over dessert with his father and my mother and Myrtle the Younger (Myrtle the Elder is on a friggin' boat to the Bahamas with Uncle KB and his family), when I have the sudden awful realization that I have failed miserably as a parent.

A parent's sole obligation is to teach/share/impart unto their children all the important necessities of life. Correct? I have tried to educate the Myrtles with the essentials and I even thought I had made a decent 'To Do' list: addition, subtraction, basic hygiene, etc. The list included both good and not-so-good life references including learning the words to Bohemian Rhapsody (to be sung off-key at the top of your lungs while Mom is driving) as sung by Queen or the Muppets, memorizing Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and listening to Rock Me Amadeus by Falco. (Hey, I knew the girls would eventually need counseling. I just wanted to ensure they had sufficient reason to fork out good $$ for psychiatric care.)

Alas, I have made the discovery that I left out an important piece of Americana...Beetlejuice (GASP!). Somewhere between Star Wars and Speed Racer, Mi Espouso and I forgot to introduce the girls to that classic piece of bizarreness. What is even more tragic is that Myrtle the Younger actually stated that the main character never appealed to her. (WHAT?!!?)

So there we sit, at the table, reciting scenes and dialogue from Beetlejuice. (No one was looking at us like we were insane, but the waiter returned in record time with the check.) MTY just sat there, wondering why we are her parents. (Because we are the only 2 people on the planet who get the portrait of the green and orange skinned girl with pink hair on the paper tablecloth that MTY drew while eating her pasta, that's why.)

Now I am certain this is not my only omission to the Myrtles education, and, as previously stated, I shall be rectifying the situation ASAP. In the meantime, I am racking my brain for any other errors.

T.

June was a busy month and July is shaping up to be the same. Yea! If I'm occupado, I can't get into too much trouble...or can I?

So what has T. been up to, you ask. Wellllll...

In June, I participated in a podcast with a friend. Her website is MidlifeSchmidlife.com and her podcasts focus on people who take a left-turn after the age of 40, aka The Midlife. She is having inspirational conversations with those who have quite their jobs or altered their existence to pursue their dreams to start a business, perform burlesque show or write a book after reaching midlife. I have to say this is a much better plan for a midlife "crisis" than buying a motorcycle or a sports car (Ooh, look! A Ferrari!) and/or trading in your spouse for a younger/newer model. Sooo... in episode #3, I discuss my journey as an author. Check it out.

Also, as previously hinted at, I pulled the trigger on Book Baby #2.

Ta Da!

Keep Your Eyes On Me. This link is for the ebook, but if you're like me and prefer a physical book, it is available in paperback. If you have an opportunity, please leave a review on either Amazon or Goodreads (or both). Reviews are the lifeblood of independent writers and help us reach a larger audience. So please!

If you think I only write my blog when good things happen, you might be somewhat correct. But I'll share something on the less positive side: I've got a doozy of a losing streak going in Words With Friends. I can't get a handful of decent tiles to save my life. So if you want to up your stats, now might be a good time to challenge me to a game.

T.

A Little Behind...

I know, I know...I'm a little behind on writing. In my defense, it's been a busy month. I'll make this quick:

Myrtle the Elder graduated with her associates degree in May. Later this summer she plans to move to Georgia and go to nursing school. Why Georgia, you ask? That be where the fiance be. Assuming the army keeps him there. We have no idea. Stay tuned.

The wedding?  Inquiring minds want to know. That's on hold for a year or two. Yea! Maybe by then I'll have lost a few more pounds and can rock the Mother of the Bride dress. I really don't want to look like a Mother of the Bride. That would be bad.

Myrtle the Younger graduated high school last week, along with 1542 of her nearest and dearest friends. The ceremony took nearly 3 hours. Yes, my butt was numb. The things we do for our children.

Family trekked in to sit through the event so we had a lovely weekend. Mi espouso took The Nephew fishing at the local hole. The fishing kid caught about a 1/2 pound bass. The rest caught a variety of perch and sunfish. No one got sunburned. Yea!

Last, but not least, I revealed the title, cover and blurb for book 2. Myrtle the Younger did the cover art again. Here they be:

Mitch Monzingo thought he made all the right decisions: leave small town Texas for the bright lights of Los Angeles, answer the seductive lure of Hollywood, and support his family back home. Stunning success should be enough to make everyone proud, including the girl he reluctantly left behind.

Abandoned by her high school crush and best friend following one perfect night, Dora Therrell fought to make her dreams come true. After years of hardship and secrets, with a best-selling novel, she has finally achieved the success which leads to security.

A desire to please confronts the need to protect when a chance encounter thrusts Mitch and Dora together again. It is up to self-proclaimed matchmaker, Faye Santiago, and respected psychologist, Annabelle Joshua, to tackle the secrets and demons which separate Mitch and Dora from true happiness.

Anyway, back to editing. The next post will probably announce the publication of KYEOM. Stay tuned.

T.