Days At The Lake, Gone By....

While cleaning out the guesthouse, I came across several large cardboard boxes full of pictures,

so I thought I'd share some of my favorites with you.

Unfortunately, I've spent two days going through

pictures rather than cleaning, so it seems to be a bit of an obstacle for the time being. I'll get back on track after I get through them.

Every summer, one

of the favorite things to do at the lake was

ride one of our many toys behind the boat, while the driver tries to throw you off.

We could throw the best of them off the toys believe me. My favorite was the Ski Hawk and the only person who could throw me off was of course, Mr. Snoots.

Sometimes passengers would even give us choice

sign

language to let us know what fun they were having. It only got you thrown off even harder.

Then there were those who tried quite earnestly to hang on, but could not.

Unfortunately, we ALL ended up like this...

And the Sunset Cocktail Cruises

were a not-to-be-missed happenings. We always had so much fun!

There was never a lack of humor at the lake.

There was also never a

shortage of deer out in the yard.

There were even a few deer that would come up & eat from your hand.

I miss those summers at the lake

when the children were small. Those were the best summers of my life…

The Guesthouse Project... Can This Really Be Done?

Remember back in March when I said I'd found my dream house? Well, it just happens to still be for sale & they have lowered the price by $25,000. I want it even more than ever now, which means it's time for me to really buckle down and get this place in shape to sell. The true bane of my existence are the outer buildings, which include the guesthouse/workshop/art studio/storage of inherited things & things for sale in my shop (all one building), the storage house across from it, and the ancient, crumbling playhouse/fox den.

Whenever we can't find a place for something in the house, we're known to throw it out in the guesthouse, when it probably should have just gone in the trash.

If I can manage to clean out the guesthouse, I think it will enable me to move all of my art supplies back out to the studio, from various nooks and crannies around the house. I am really beginning to resent this house & the shape it's in, so I need to take action, which I've already started on. I did manage to take a few dozen shots of how really bad the guesthouse is. I thought the end result would be more impressive if I showed Before & After pictures, right?

I really want the Georgian/Federal townhouse in La Fayette Place! I want it so badly that it hurts! I probably need to quit driving by the place so much, but I can't. I think I'm obsessed.

So, to keep my mind busy as well as work toward the sale of this monstrous house & property, I am beginning the cleaning out of an accumulation of 23 years of crap. The new roof is scheduled to go on soon and the painting of the exterior of our house & the outer buildings begins when the roofing is done. Remember back in the spring when we had that horrendous hailstorm? We failed to check on the guesthouse for a couple of weeks and when we did go out there, the damage was unbelievable. As if my mess out there wasn't bad enough, it sort of tripled the mess. Argh! However, we received a check for $36,000.00 for a new roof and other repairs. One of our skylights was severely cracked and gutters seem to be hanging on by a thread. We've neglected things far too long, which is why I've put this off as long as humanly possible.

When I get everything eventually cleaned out, we can begin the few remodeling jobs we plan to do before putting the house on the market. The real estate market here has really slowed down, so I'm hoping La Fayette Place won't sell very quickly. I'm keeping my fingers crossed at any rate. I'm not worried about our place selling because of its size & prime location, especially being across the street from the largest & most expensive home & property in town. Hopefully, that will help sell ours quickly along with all the work we're doing.

So, my absence will continue, with brief updates & pictures throughout the summer & possibly into the fall. Tune in periodically to see me transform this mess into organized clutter.

At first I thought I'd have a garage sale, but I just don't think I have the *get-up-and-go* to manage that, so my housekeeper is receiving lots of things for free. So far, she hasn't minded it a bit…

Well, Color Me Happy! My Team Somehow Pulled Off First Place...

This morning amidst a steady, light rain, my team and I teed off at 9:15 AM with great trepidation. There was loud thunder off to the left and off to the right, but we never saw any lightning, so play was never interrupted. I thought that we'd surely hear the sirens from the clubhouse, but they never sounded. We played on, thinking that we were going to have the worst score of all the teams because we were all playing horribly. The air was so heavy you could have cut it with a knife and the balls weren't going as far as they should have. I found myself having to *club up* on nearly every shot and every shot seemed to play out like a game of craps.

Today was another *shamble* with two *net balls* instead of only one, like we had yesterday. The teams were different too, but once again, I made out like a bandit and scored an awesome team of players. Today I only had one Eagle, 2 Birdies and 3 Pars. Boo Hoo! (whatever!) It was great and I enjoyed the entire tournament thoroughly.

However, today, with the all the wet weather, I had to dress for the rain and knew my hair would get soaked, which makes me resemble a wet rat. It's not pretty, but I didn't care. I was there to play real golf today, with real diehard players and it was such a great feeling being a winner for once. I could seriously get used to this.

I also had an epiphany. I like playing with everyone but my own Mr. Snoots. I know. It sounds really mean, doesn't it? But honestly, the man cannot quit telling me what I'm doing wrong the entire time we play together. Everyone else praises me for every shot and every putt, good or bad, which somehow makes me (or allows me) to play better. If Mr. Snoots could just figure this out we'd be great together. But, alas, I fear he cannot and will not ever be able to be different. This will certainly limit our time playing golf together.

The only thing that really ruffled my feathers a bit today, was the two men on our team insisted on telling me precisely where to putt my ball. You know. Like I didn't have the sense to do it on my own. Yesterday, I sank 16 of 18 putts. Today, I sank 5 putts out of 18. Hmmmmm… There's your sign, huh?

When someone insists on telling you where to putt, I think they have no idea how they are undermining your play, but they are. Of course, they think they are being oh-so-helpful, but it's almost insulting when (without invitation) they say, "Firm stroke right here to this spot." For me, it's like the freaking *kiss of death* and then I usually rocket launch my 3 foot putt to destinations unknown. Thanks a lot guys, but I think I can handle this all on my own, unless you'd like for me to line YOUR putts up for you....

I Might Be A Golfer After All... Who Knew?

First of all, I hope everyone has a fun & happy Fourth of July!!!

Yup. Go figure. Last weekend I looked like I'd never picked up a golf club in my life. This weekend I looked like a sand-bagger because I've played so well. I did not do a single thing (that I know of) different.

Yes, I admit it was nothing but ugly last weekend. I'm talking about my golf game. I played the roles of reigning Queen of Shankopotamus, ruler of bad putts and master of absolutely nothing related to golf. I suppose everyone has days, even weekends like that on the course, but I felt like the only person ever. Even though I shot a good round for me, a 95 (which gave me a 68 with my handicap), it wasn't even close to being good enough to beat the other duffers, or even half of them. It's hard to believe my partner and I got second place last year. Frankly, I was ready to go home, sell my clubs, and never play golf again.

The heat and humidity were absolutely stifling and I was sure I'd die before we finally hit the 18th hole. Of course, I had my wide assortment of little tricks to keep cool with me, but they weren't much help in the triple digit heat & high humidity. If that wasn't bad enough, I'd also forgotten my hair dryer and my digital camera. The absence of the hair dryer alone would send me into frenzy, but the camera just took the wind from my sails.

Let me see if I can explain this. Whenever I play in a tournament, I must have everything go perfectly before the round. My outfit has to look great, my legs need to be shaved, my hair and nails need to look good, and I need everything where it belongs in my bag. In other words, I don't need any last minute upsets of any kind. Golf is a very unforgiving game as well as being a very humbling game. I want things to be the same every time, without fail. I am then able to focus on making every shot with the same set-up and same precision. When my pre-game organization gets screwed up, so does my game. Yeah, I know. Call me crazy, but that's how I roll. Oh, wait. It sounds more anal retentive than anything, doesn't it? Oy.

So, needless to say, my game last weekend was all out of whack and I wasn't a very happy camper. We didn't party with the other duffers and we didn't stay up late. Normally, I would have, with or without Mr. Snooty. Frankly, the heat just sucked the life out of me, so I retreated to the confines of our air-conditioned room while I licked my wounds. For once, the heat rendered me speechless…. Go figure.

Today, I played in a tournament called The Firecracker, which is another *shamble*. I am, of course, the D player in an A-B-C-D tournament team. This tournament is at our home club, so I was much more comfortable knowing what to expect. Besides, they had me pretty well padded with good players, so that I couldn't do too much damage to the team. Our team ended up with a 49 today, which put us in second place! I made a total of 5 eagles today and I was on Cloud Nine. What am I saying? I am still on Cloud Nine. It was an awesome day of golf with some really fun, good players, so of course, I'm not going to quit playing now. It seems I go through this sort of thing at least twice a year, so maybe I should just admit when I'm in a slump and quit saying I'm going to quit playing.

So, I shall leave you with a few shots of a hummingbird it took me a good 30 minutes of sitting still, to get a shot of. Tough little guys to capture, I assure you. Also, I've included a few new pictures of Felicia. The pups are as big as she is now and it's getting difficult to tell them apart...

Desert Duffers Golf Tournament Weekend And Fox Pictures

Be sure to click on the pictures for a full size view.

Felicia stopped to pose for me one evening, on the fence to the garden.

We are leaving today to go play in a two-day golf tournament outside of Dallas with our large golf group called Desert Duffers, so I thought I'd leave you with the most recent pictures of our little fox family.

And I know you'll all want to tune in on Monday to find out about whatever misadventures I've found myself in during this tournament. As always, it should be interesting to see if I show my ass again. It's been hellishly hot and we all know what happens to me in the heat, when I'm drinking and playing golf.... Thank goodness we're playing with friends that are used to my antics. Truth be told, I think they all like it when I misbehave and they tend to urge me on. However, Mr. Snooty doesn't like it, but he should really be used to me by now.

Anyway, this is the first of three tournaments we have with this group every year, so if I'm not naughty this time, I'm sure I will be the next time.

Also, several of the hubbys play guitar, so we usually sit around at night, singing and listening to some really amazing guitarists. Hell, we might even sing a round of Cumbaya (Koom-By-Ya).

Most of the time, Felicia seems to be resting while the pups are either asleep or off hunting with their Dad.
Her favorite new place is up on the cinderblock fence, amongst the Trumpet Vine.

The pups are really growing and seem to be getting some wise advice from Mr. Owl.

Did You Ever....

Did you ever go to a wedding, run into an old friends' son & his wife, and then proceed to stick your foot in your mouth by asking when *she's due* because she has a gargantuan tummy and she replies "I'm not pregnant."?

Yeah. Me neither.

Two Weddings And A Flirtation...

Wow! What a weekend! Snooty Daughter left yesterday at about 1:00 PM to drive back to Austin with a friend, and then catch her flight back to Los Angeles. I always just hate saying goodbye. But, she was here for Father's Day, which made Mr. Snoots a very happy fellow.

We ended up going to the wedding ceremony for one girl and the reception of the other girl, so I only got a couple of quick snaps of the reception and none of the wedding at the church, but it was absolutely gorgeous and blissfully short.

However, SD's little pre-party turned out to be larger than she thought, but it was great fun to see all the kids again. If I counted correctly, I believe there were a total of 25 in all. It's such a wonderful group of young people who are all really smart and successful. And, they've all been friends since pre-school, which I find pretty amazing.

Anyway, the bride at the reception was gorgeous and the groom is so nice, handsome and personable. They stood and talked with us for about 10 minutes and told us they were going to The Turks and Caicos Islands for their honeymoon. How wonderful is that?

We ate fabulous foods at the Petroleum Club reception and stayed until the cake was served. We had fried quail, smoked salmon with cream cheese and all the trimmings, boiled shrimp with a selection of sauces, sliced beef tenderloin, fresh fruit, and marinated asparagus rolled in proscuitto. However, the highlight was the groom's cake, which was a divine double chocolate with chocolate icing. The wedding cake was a scrumptious Italian Cream cake with white icing and it was decorated with colorful ornamental cabbage leaves.

We finally left for home and all the young people headed out to party more. I'm fairly certain they came in around 2:00 AM, but I had fallen asleep in my computer chair by the time they came home.

So, SD saw *him* again Saturday night and apparently he was a bit drunk and she reportedly slapped him for saying something ugly. It seems he still likes her though. I always say treat most guys mean and be aloof and they'll follow you anywhere….

I don't think much will develop from this until SD moves back to Texas, which she says she's really ready to do, so that she can go to law school. She says she is *so over* L.A. Hmmm… Imagine that. Those words were music to my ears!

It's The Big Wedding Weekend...

Most weekends around here are pretty tame. We don't go out much since we're homebodies and we don't really have a lot of company. So, when a weekend like this comes along, I'm all in. I've been resting up for weeks now. I've also been cleaning like some kind of maniac.

So, the girls got in last night and we ordered pizza and antipasto salads from our favorite Italian restaurant. We sat around the kitchen table talking and laughing and it really was Heaven for me. After that, the girls all went out to hook up with all their old friends who are in town for the wedding.

There are two weddings tonight and we've decided to make it to both celebrations. We'll go to the one friends' daughter's wedding at the church and then attend the other friends' daughter's reception at The Petroleum Club.

I decided to go ahead and wear the Victor Costa suit I got for my best friends' son's wedding last year, rather than go out & buy something else I'll only wear once. My biggest decision today is going to be which pair of shoes I want to ruin in the rain. It rained all night with more expected this evening. It's not fair to have rain when there are weddings to attend.

Snooty daughter invited about 15 people over for a little wedding pre-party, so I'm thinking all the cleaning was a good decision. I've got a few appetizers ready to tide everyone over until the wedding reception and SD went out and bought a huge amount of champagne to make Mimosas. It ought to be really fun!

SD may or may not have told me she thinks she's in love with our best friends' son. Hmmm... Let's see. He's smart, good looking, funny, finished grad school, has a great job, and his parents are our best friends in the world. That would be just too good to be true, which is probably why nothing will really come of it. But, I can sure dream about it....

Really Embracing Life...

“Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely, in a pretty and well preserved body….but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up…totally worn out and loudly proclaiming, WOW…What a Ride!”

I can't remember where I first read the above quote, but it has always stuck with me. It is basically how I've tried to live my life. I'm always up to trying anything new at least once. I'll go just about everywhere anyone wants to go. I just always need to be doing something to maintain inner peace.

When I started thinking about organizing my time to better utilize that time, I realized that there are some real *time sucks* in my life. You know what I mean. Things you do that essentially just suck the time out of your life, on a daily basis. I suppose that watching TV is the biggest *time suck* of all.

Others include grocery shopping, clothes shopping, waiting in lines and waiting at the doctor's office. I guess I should also include waiting in line to drop off prescriptions and then waiting in line to pick up prescriptions. I wait in lines at the bank and I wait in lines at the grocery store. I wait in lines at the post office and I wait in lines at traffic lights. I waste a fair amount of time waiting in lines, so I have the right to complain.

Conceivably, these are things I cannot do anything about. So, I'm seeing that the only real place I can do any good, is to cut back on my TV consumption. I can't stand most TV commercials anyway, so this shouldn't be too taxing. I used to just love all the CSI shows, but they are all becoming a big blur as the stories all seem to have already been covered by one CSI show or another. Did you know that Americans spend something like 32 hours per week watching television? No wonder this country is so full of overweight, obese and unhappy people. Considering the amount of TV consumed in our country, I'm willing to guess people eat more because they can't measure up to the lives they see others living on the television, which we all know is bunk anyway.

So, in my grand effort to better utilize my time, I'm guessing that TV is going to take a far back burner in my life. Like I've always said, I'd much rather be out doing something than watching someone else do it on TV…

The Friends Who Have Walked In And Out Of Our Lives...

Do you ever think back on some of the wonderful people who have walked in and out of your life over the years? Sometimes, all it takes for me is driving by the house they used to live in. Unfortunately, I'm also forced to remember them when they pass away from this world.

It's a well-known fact that I'm no stranger to death. I've lost countless friends and loved ones to an endless array of ailments and diseases and tragedies. Each and every death makes me wonder about the old saying "Only the good die young". From what I have seen over the years, it appears to be true. I mean, I'm still here for some crazy reason, which will probably explain a lot about me. I've never been an angel by any measure.

Today, I learned of an old friend's passing and it has really darkened my day. There have already been entirely too many deaths so far this year. All have been good, dear people and it has been difficult to lose them.

However, my friend Mary was an angel walking on this earth and my heart is cracking wide open for her family. The first time we met was when she and her family bought the house two doors down and our sons became fast friends throughout grade school, even though her son didn't attend the same school. Mine were young and still in private school at that point, but it never seemed to hinder their friendship. They eventually moved to another neighborhood, but I will always cherish the years they were our neighbors.

A few years ago, I'd heard that she and her husband had divorced and that she had moved back down to Kerrville, where she was originally from. By then, all of the kids were grown and I had not seen Mary more than a handful of times since they had moved away from our neighborhood. You know how it goes. We still managed to get the boys together all the time, but things seem to change when a friend is no longer living two-doors-down-the-street from you.

Still, when I read about her death today, I bawled my eyes out. There was no indication as to the cause of her demise, but she was ALWAYS good to my children and was always there to take up the slack for me, when I needed her to. She was one of the many blessings that floated in and out of our lives over the years. Mary was only 65 years old. That is only 9 years older than me…. Rest in peace, my friend.

It scares me a bit, because I want to be here until I'm old and crotchety, just like my ancestors that went before me. This is where I'm reminded that there is a reason why we don't know when we will be whisked away from this life in a mere breath.

Embrace life. Live each day as fully as you can. Love everyone as hard as you can, as long as you can… I've decided to not allow myself to get depressed. Instead, I'm going to use this as another reminder to get out there and live my life to the fullest degree. If I can find the energy, that is.

Erin Brockovich Here This Week Investigating Contaminated Water Wells...

Erin Brockovich and her team of investigators are here this week investigating hexavalent chromium contamination of some local water wells. The area of contamination is within our county but outside the city limits and it's so bad in some wells that water comes out of the tap looking like green Gatorade.

Chrome-6 is a chemical that when ingested, inhaled or dermally exposed to, may cause chronic nosebleeds, skin rashes and cancer. Ms. Brockovich says they are the highest levels that she's ever seen (even worse than the Hinkley, California case), and she's seen a lot. When Brockovich met with the large crowd of residents she asked if anyone had seen any of these symptoms and nearly all hands went up into the air. There is clearly a problem. So, Brockovich and her team of investigators are here to help this group of residents unite and organize.

The scary part is that new residential homes are being added every week. It isn't yet known how far this goes or how big it will end up being. They haven't even begun to nail the source of the contamination yet.

Apparently, the state tested the water in 2006, found unacceptable levels of Chrome-6, made a typo on their report, and the problem was forgotten about… until now. It's gotten much worse than it was in 2006.

There has been some local speculation that Brockovich is only here to gain more notoriety. I disagree. If it were my water well involved, I'd be relieved to know that a bulldog like Erin is on the case. Many people feel that since she is a celebrity of sorts, she's only in it for more. From what I could see, she is strictly all business and doesn't put on any airs. She doesn't have paparazzi following her around, nor does she have a crew to do her hair & makeup. This woman means to clean things up in our county and I'm damned glad it's her.

One... Two... Three... Huh?

Mr. Snooty and I have had the busiest last week! There are two weddings coming up so we've had lots of parties to attend. We've also been playing a lot of golf since the weather has been so nice this year. However, we've been keeping tabs on Felicia The Fox and her growing pups on a daily basis.




Yes, my garden is shot to Hell. It's much more fun watching the FOUR Fox pups play out in my garden. That's right. I said four. For the first time, we believe we saw all of them. See if you can find them in the pictures.


YOU MUST CLICK ON THIS PICTURE to see the crouching tiger/fox just left of the little house and right of the terra cotta pot.

Yesterday Felicia had a look on her face that I recognized from my own days of motherhood. The look of total exhaustion that only a new mother can have. Judging by the way these little characters carry on, I can only imagine that she must be tired to the bone. They constantly chase each other around the garden and have torn up everything out there that could be destroyed. But, they are absolutely hilarious to watch.



However, Felicia is a fiercely protective mother, so we still only peek over the fence, which she doesn't seem to mind. One afternoon last week I went out to start the water in the garden and I apparently surprised Felicia when she was out with the pups, which seems to be most of the time now. She hissed/growled at me then came toward me, scaring the crapola out of me. I never knew I could run so fast.



So, I guess if I'm going to have a garden, then it's going to have to be a Fall garden… I think it's worth it. At least we have tomatoes, which we planted in the *Topsy Turvy* planters that we have hanging from the guesthouse roof. For now, this is far more entertaining...






Oh, and the Midnight Bed Rambler has been at it again.... More on this later.

The Shrimp Boil From Hell... It Only Takes One Bad Shrimp

One time when Mr. Snooty and I were first going out together, we were invited to a married couple friends' home for a Shrimp Boil. It was really the first time I'd been to one that was New Orleans Style. They had butcher paper spread out over the tables outside, with large rolls of paper towels strategically placed all about. There were also sleeves of saltine crackers scattered about.

Best of all, there were Stuffed Artichokes at every other place setting and they were absolutely divine. When the Shrimp Boil was ready, our host and hostess turned out several pots of shrimp, red potatoes, sausages, and corn-on-the-cobs, onto the tables. It was a massive feast and we all ate like we'd never before had such a meal.

About halfway through the meal, Mr. Snooty started feeling badly and leaned over to mention it to me. I said something like "Oh, just don't eat any more. You've overfilled yourself". The look on his face said otherwise.

I mumbled our thank-you to everyone and hustled him to the car just in time for him to *blow beets* everywhere. Fine. I finally got him into the car and began driving him back to his apartment. He threw up two more times, all over the white leather interior and the passenger side door of his Grand Prix. I felt really awful for him, but was at a loss as to what I could do to help. I also knew there was no way I was going to get through the ordeal without some of the vomit getting on me. It's one of my biggest *gag factors*. I even hated getting it on me when it was my own children.

We reached his apartment and he managed to throw up again before I could get him up the stairs and inside. Once I got him through the door, he threw up several more times in the bathroom. I began to get scared. I'd never seen anyone throw up so much in my life. I finally decided to call his parents but it was approaching 2:00 AM.

The phone rang several times before his Dad answered. I could tell he was groggy with sleep and wasn't at all happy about being awakened in the middle of the night. I tried to explain to him that his son was violently ill and throwing up constantly. He said "Well, you're with him, so you deal with it. He's probably just drunk". Then he hung up. He. Hung. Up.

I was horrified and I didn't know what to do. I was only 24 years old and I'd never seen anyone throw up that many times, considering the amount he had eaten. He kept telling me to take his car home and come back tomorrow, but I was afraid he was going to die. Not that I had a clue as to how I should help him. Seriously. No Google searches back in those days. So, I waited out the night and in the morning when he woke up his first words to me were "I thought I told you to take my car home and come back."

Incredulous, I informed him that I stayed with him because I was afraid he might die. Some thanks. Oddly enough, he has always been like that every time he's gotten sick over the years. He just wants to be left alone. Not me. I want sympathy and wait service...



The man is sooo lucky I still married him.



I guess the moral to the story is this: When you're eating any kind of fish, but especially shrimp, pay attention to what you're eating. If it smells funny or even looks odd, toss it. It's simply not worth throwing up for hours on end.

These Senior Moments Are About To Get The Best Of Me.... Argh!

I suppose we all have *Senior Moments* as we approach old age. The older we get, the more we expect to have. I was rather hoping to not have any until I was up around 60 or 65. Hmmm...

When Mr. Snoots and I were getting ready to leave Las Vegas we of course, piled all of our chips together and cashed them in for real money. I was almost certain that I'd broken even until the hubby counted up his then mine, before combining them for the total. He told me that I'd come up like $200.00 short. I immediately leapt to my own defense by saying I did not lose $200.00. I admitted that the last night while playing Black Jack, I might have lost a $100.00 chip by accident, because I was unable to find it the next morning.

Mr. Snooty looked at me as if I were a complete moron. Well, that was the only conceivable thing that could have happened because I know I didn't lose it at the tables while playing.

So, fast-forward a few weeks to last Friday. I misplaced my main credit card and Sam's Club card and couldn't find it for the life of me. Growing ever more frustrated, I set aside time this afternoon to start going through everything I own, in order to find the missing credit card.

In my search to find those cards, I stumbled upon a black $100.00 Golden Nugget chip, along with $87.00 in cash that were still hiding in the side pocket of my little bronze evening bag. Can we just agree here that was a big old DUH of a Senior Moment? Now, I think I'll go through the rest of my things. No telling what I might find…. Oh The Riches That Must Be Hiding In My Closet and Drawers!


Apparently, today is my one day of clarity for the week...

Feet Don't Fail Me Now... Another Day In The Wild Kingdom That I Call Home

I've still been avoiding the garden until Felicia (our resident fox) gets her pups raised and off on their own. Don't get me wrong here. I'm not staying away because I'm scared of the foxes. I'm staying away so that she won't find it necessary to move them before it's time. If the mama fox feels her babies are in danger, she will move them to a new and undisclosed location, which I don't want to see happen. I like my little wards. I like them even if it means everything I've planted in the garden is going to die. I can replant soon for a late summer and fall garden.

However, yesterday I decided to go out and peek over the fence to see if they were all there. Sure enough, they were. All three pups were outside playing and as soon as Felicia heard me, she somehow related to the pups to get in the den… Pronto! This is the picture I got. I knew they moved fast, but you'll get a huge kick out of this picture of one of the pups, in full run mode. View the enlargement by clicking on the picture. You won't be sorry.

Did you know that the gray fox is the only member of the dog family that can climb trees? Yes, it's true. But, what I really find fascinating about foxes is that they are monogamous, which means they have only one mate for one mating season. Hey, that's more than I can say for millions of humans.

From what I've been able to read, The Grey Fox mates from February to March, bearing their young from April to May, having a gestation period of about 50 to 55 days. (Seriously, I would have had a lot more kids had my gestation period been that short.) They usually have between 3 and 7 pups that are dark brown in color. They are blind for the first ten days. They are allowed out of their den after about 5 weeks and are usually weaned by the time they are 10 weeks old. This is when the father stays gone a major part of the time, to hunt for food. The family remains together until late fall, then separates, spending the winter in solitary.

It's curious that we seldom see one during the winter months, which leads me to think they almost hibernate like a bear. I do enjoy them living on our property and having their babies here. It makes me feel like Snow White or Doctor Doolittle… You know, talk to the animals and all.... In My Dreams.

Exercise And Torture... Aren't They The Same Thing?

This was one of my very first posts that a whole three people read, over a year ago. Since I've gone and done the same thing to myself again, I felt it was worth posting again, especially since I don't think I can improve upon this piece…. or my physical pain.

At least once a year, I get this wacky idea in my head & decide that I need to exercise. I get visions that if I exercise I'm going to be trim & beautiful again. Yeah, right! I think I'm finally learning that this is never a good idea for me, because I seem to hurt myself every time, rendering my body incapable of moving at all. Right now, I'm a useless wet noodle and it even hurts to take deep breaths or stretch. I'm now a whining, groaning lump of flesh and bones, completely unable to do anything.

"How did I come to this?" you ask. Well, I have a good friend who recently bought a new and very expensive elliptical machine and was kind enough to give me her old Torso Track (AKA: The Torture Track). Immediately, I had those grandeur visions of once again being a "flat belly". Oh, the thoughts that raced through my mind! That is, until I had my first session on the beast. I was amazed that I could do 30 repetitions, but I did, all the while thinking about how great I was going to look.

Wrong again. I awoke this morning with a pain in my gut that I can't even describe. I couldn't move, so I just lay in bed lifelessly for a few moments, thinking. I mean I had things to do, places to go, people to see. Yet, I felt as if I'd been stricken with some horrible, debilitating disease that was probably going to be named after me, for being the first one to have it.

Then, I remembered my DUMB ASS actions of the previous day. Guess I should have opted for the slow start, like maybe only 10 repetitions instead of 30, but at the time, it didn't hurt. So, I slowly began to roll over in order to basically roll out of bed with as little muscle movement as possible. The result: I rolled off the bed and slammed to the floor with my head landing in the wastebasket I keep at the bedside. Oh Yeah! That was fun. So, hubby strolls into the room at this very moment and asks why I'm on the floor with my head in the wastebasket. "Are you sick?" he asks. Unable to speak, I could only point to the Torso Track that lay by the dresser, laughing at me. Hubby says "Uh-Huh", chuckles, and leaves the room.

Okay, fine! Now let's try the next step. Getting up and standing. Ooooohhhh! Owww! I managed to pick up my silk robe (which felt like a ton of bricks) and put it on, then I baby-stepped my way to the den and my computer. I've been here ever since because I'm afraid to move, afraid of the inevitable return of the stabbing pains. Apparently, I've either pulled or strained my poor, sleeping stomach muscles and now they're protesting at such abuse. Wait - better yet, make that RIOTING!

Now, you'd think at my age I'd know better. Wrong! And this isn't the first time I've done this kind of thing. I've done this to myself so many times that my Dear Hubby no longer offers any sort of sympathy or back rubs or anything except the giving of smirks while shaking his head. Thanks honey! Although I can't blame him, really. I've had nearly every machine known to woman and I seem to always get hurt, to the point I have to discontinue any sort of exercise for weeks until I'm healed. I've been a DUMB ASS about exercise for years.

Before I met my husband, I was a ski instructor in Aspen and the picture of health. I loved skiing and I literally lived and breathed it. When ski season was over, I spent Summers hiking and backpacking and fishing on the Frying Pan and Roaring Fork rivers, up to Snowmass Lake, Maroon Bells, and the many wonderful places around Aspen. I could do anything back then. I was young and in the greatest shape of my life. Unfortunately, when I moved to Texas, I never found anything in the way of exercise that I could stick to and yet, my DUMB ASS brain still thinks I'm young and allows me do these silly things to hurt my DUMB ASS. I'm not 23 anymore. Hell, I don't even feel I'm 56. Today, I feel like I'm 80 and on my deathbed. Why doesn't our brain age simultaneously with our bodies? Right now, if I could move, I'd give myself a swift kick in the arse, but I'd probably hurt myself again.... "Honey," I yell out. "Can you go to the drug store and buy me an old fart's walker, pleeeease?" All I hear is the sound of one hand clapping.... Yes, I think I'm beginning to *get it*.

We Have Fox Pup Pictures!!!! Mr. Snoots Is The Man...

Well, I am excited beyond belief! My attempts to get shots of the fox babies were fruitless. However, Mr. Snoots (My Hero) is taller than I and can lean over the fence with a camera. We attempted several shots yesterday but they were not good and I feared that we wouldn't get a shot at all.


You need to click on the pictures to get the larger version.







Tonight when Mr. Snoots got home, he said he'd go try again and the result was a whopping success! Of course, we were only able to get a picture of one of the pups. When Felicia smells or senses pending danger, she moves fast to get the pups back into the shelter under the old playhouse. So, the other two had already been herded under the little house. These are such amazing creatures, these foxes.



So, I'm feeling almost like a proud Grandmother tonight…



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Tiptoeing To The Garden.... The Pitter Patter Of Little Paws

When I awakened this morning, the first thing Mr. Snoots told me was that there are TWO foxes and the new one is much larger. He'd seen them out in the garden this morning and was shocked, since we've only ever seen the one, and the pups that one time a few years ago. This really excited both of us!





I ran the water in the garden for most of the morning and into the afternoon, as it dries out quickly in the West Texas sun. I also hoped it would provide our foxes with some thirst prevention.



The rest of today we spent finishing the cleaning of the patio and preparing to have friends over for dinner tonight and we worked exhaustively to finish in time. Then as we were preparing dinner, I looked out the kitchen door to see Felicia sauntering along the back sidewalk as I've seen her do so many times before. I watched as she gracefully glided over the fence to the garden and disappeared.





At that moment, our friends arrived for dinner and sat around the kitchen island, talking, as we finished the preparations for said dinner. We told them about the new fox we've never seen before and they were as fascinated as we were. At that moment, the hubby was looking out the door and said, "Hey, it's the fox." Then she quickly disappeared over the fence that leads to the vegetable garden. His wife and I crowded around the door and we decided to put dinner on hold as we all tiptoed out to the garden for a closer glimpse of her beauty.





Like little children, we made our way to the garden as quietly as possible and were graced with the most precious glimpses of the Felicia's pups. We only saw three total, but that doesn't mean there aren't more. Immediately, I mentally named them Huey, Dewey, and Louie for some odd reason. But, you should have seen the look on Felicia's face. It was that "Don't make me hurt you" look. So, we quickly bowed our way out of the garden and returned to our final dinner preparations.





Still, we could barely talk of little else, even throughout dinner. So, of course, we had to steal another silent glimpse of the babies. I could shoot myself for not having the camera with me. I was in dinner mode, not guest mode. Anyway, they were still out playing and she still had that stern look on her face, so I shooed everyone back to dinner on the patio.





So, I think I'm going to have to get a strap to carry the camera around my neck, in order to have it at the ready. I'm bound to see them again tomorrow evening when I attempt to tend my vegetable garden. If they're there, then I'll try to get some decent shots and blow off tending the garden. Water will do it sufficient good right now, which I turn on in the backyard by the guesthouse. So, I'm good with that.





Good Grief! I feel like a grandmother! And, maybe this means we'll have less destructive little rats squirrels around now. I mean, the fox pups have to learn to hunt, right? Meanwhile, I'm keeping Trouble The Cat inside, for safe keeping...

In Honor Of Memorial Day... Four Generations of Brave Men

Today I would like to honor four generations of soldiers in Mr. Snooty's family and mine, who were soldiers and fought for this country. Some were on his mother's side and some on his dad's side. The only one who didn't come home was my mother-in-law's older brother, her only sibling, who died at the tender young age of 20 years old. Obviously, I never knew him but neither did my hubby, which is sad. Sonny was killed during World War II at the Battle of the Bulge when a bomb was dropped on his Unit from a bomber. He died instantly and was awarded the Purple Heart, which we now keep. Everyone else is gone now as well, but we truly loved them, more than they could have ever known.

This is a picture of my hubby's uncle who died at The Battle of the Bulge:

This is my hubby's grandfather with his son, Uncle Sonny:

This is my beloved father-in-law when he was in the Navy during WWII:

Since their graves are here locally, in 2 different cemeteries, we went last night to put flags on all the family graves and it made me start thinking about what I know of my own family.


So, I also want to honor my paternal grandfather who was in both WW I & WWII. When he was 17 years old, he ran away to join the army for WWI and lied about his age, so they took him. He also fought in WWII and was very proud of his career as a soldier. He died when he was in his late 70's. Unfortunately, I couldn't find a picture of him.

Also, I honor my maternal grandfather, who had been stationed in Honolulu when they bombed Pearl Harbor. He lived to the ripe old age of 94. Both of these wonderful men are gone now, but will live forever in my heart.

This is my mother's father when he was serving in Honolulu:

Even though I barely knew him, I'd also like to honor my own father, who was a Marine and served in Korea. He died when he was in his 60's.

I'd also like to mention my daughter's high school boyfriend John, who was injured in Afghanistan and ended up losing his leg. All of his dreams of becoming a secret service agent or SWAT team member are gone now. He was also awarded The Purple Heart.

And last but not least, my two male cousins who were both killed in Viet Nam in 1968. One had been with the Army Infantry and the other had been a Green Beret. I only ever knew them as children, but they, too, will live on in my heart forever.

I suppose when The Rulers of the Universe finally decide that so many deaths are not worth going to war for; finding other ways to make peace, then perhaps there won't be any more wars. I wish that for my children and my grandchildren and those who follow. However, greed and power are normally what drives men to turn to war, so I don't forsee that ever coming to be. Especially in my lifetime.....

THANK YOU WITH ALL MY HEART & SOUL TO THE BRAVE MEN WHO HAVE GONE TO WAR TO PROTECT AND SERVE THEIR COUNTRY, IN THE PAST, THE PRESENT AND THOSE WHO WILL FIGHT IN THE FUTURE. WE CAN NEVER REPAY YOU ENOUGH FOR YOUR BRAVERY.

The Nose Knows... How To Improve Your Mental Golf Game

More than a month ago I was reading my friend Heather's blog (Real Women Golf) and she had a new *toy* that she claimed was helping her golf game. Called *Golf Scents*, this new idea was brought about by a golfer and endorsed by a renowned golf psychologist with the idea that certain scents can change our mental game as well as our physical golf game, based on memory and smells being linked to our actions and reactions, during play.

Since I'm always the first one to jump on anything that promises to improve my golf game, I was all over it. Now that I've had a chance to use it for a reasonable amount of time, I see major improvements in my golf game. Mainly, I'm hitting better & longer tee shots and my putts all seem to be drifting over the lip of the cup, disappearing into the hole. The last four times I've played, my score has been right at and around 100, which is an improvement of around 5 to 10 strokes, as well as a new consistency I've not experienced before.

I am going to buy one of these for each of my golfing pals, to give them for their birthdays, although not until after it has majorly improved my own game. Hehehe...

Of course, you must follow their explicit instructions on how to use the little olfactory bulb of wonder, but I am seeing major improvements here, which just confirms what I've thought all along. Golf is 40% physical and 60% mental. Now, through associative learning and conditioned response, scents become a part of your memory.

I have found that it is particularly helpful when playing golf with Mr. Snoots. Golf Scents helps me to remember how well I play when playing with *the girls*. It also enables me to ignore all of his comments like "You just looked up, is all." or "You just hit that too hard for a putt." or "Can't you watch where your ball goes?" or "Maybe you need another lesson." or my most favorite "You just need to concentrate more." For that alone, this little tool is worth its weight in gold.

Apparently, these guys are onto something here. Mind over matter, baby!

Also, I'm sure the new golf shoes I've ordered, because I saw them over at Tales of a Golf Gal, will help as well. They are FootJoys LoPro Collection. I still hold firmly to the belief that if you look good and feel good you're going to play a better game. Right? Well, perhaps in just theory, but mind over matter again. The new shoes should be here any day now, so I'm excited!

Last year, I was reading Patricia Hannigan's blog Golf Girl's Diary and she turned me on to another new gadget, which has helped my game tremendously. The Thumb Caddy, which is a tool that teaches you where to properly grip on your club. Once you get used to it, the grip will just become a natural part of your game.

The other pictures are just some shots taken while golfing over the last few months. It seems like we're always waiting on a group of guys who won't let us play through, so that affords me ample time to take pictures of the golf course wildlife.

This last picture is where my tee shot ended up on our #10 hole. Ummm... Could I get a ruling here please? You can click on the picture to get a better idea of my frustration... Okay, this wasn't one of my better tee shots.