Aunt Vera

The other day I was at someone's house and saw a box with what looked like old paper towel rolls and some other odds and ends in it, and I thought back to the play box Aunt Vera Weems used to keep at her house.

She had a sizable cardboard box with playthings in it that she kept in the back room off the kitchen, maybe a pantry, and that is where I would head first thing when we went to visit her. The box had old pot pie tins, egg cartons, plastic spoons, discarded kitchen utensils and the like in it. Now don't get me wrong, I liked going over to kids houses that had the fancy, decked out plastic kitchen sets, but there was something so desirable about Vera's set-up, something that still gives me a little thrill when I see objects that remind me of those times.

It was so desirable, in fact, that it inspired fighting betwixt children if there was more than one visiting at the same time. And often there was.

One time when I was staying there, when I was about four or five, another cousin was also there, a much more sophisticated girl of 11 or 12. We sat on the edge of a huge cistern with the lid propped up while she told me the stories of Bloody Fingers and The Girl with the Black Choker. The echoey sound added legions in sound effect. That night as we were all getting ready for bed, Aunt Vera couldn't figure out why I was crying scared, and she also didn't know the cousin had told me Bloody Fingers was watching us through the twitched up slat of the venetian blinds.

I often ponder over childhood and how memories from that time are so set in stone, how the people were like characters, well-defined and impervious. I can still hear Vera's voice and see her with a turban wrapped around her head talking to my grandma about an upcoming funeral, purse hanging from the crook of her elbow.

I don't know why I was at Vera's so much, I'm just glad that I got to be there, with Guy sitting in his chair and always amicable, me playing with a round cork-board globe that had pens and pencils stuck in it, an orchard at the front of the house, where we collected apricots, and bursting through the swinging doors between the tv room and the kitchen.

Did I ever mention that I had a charmed childhood?

NFL Blacks Out Saints - Texans Game

Tonight, those of us who have just changed to DirecTV are getting a taste of sour grapes. The New Orleans Saints and Houston Texans game is blocked from DTV NFL channel 212, and we are finding out that Abilene local station KTES, where the game is airing, is not included in the DTV local channel package.

If you have Dish, you can watch the game on channel 40, since it has also been blocked on the Dish NFL channel. We're hoping to get the Vikings and Seahawks game since it's not local. We better. Or we're gonna... we're gonna... gripe a whole lot!

I Gotta Lotta Anger Inside'a Me

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Aargh! Creationism? Submission? Sex? Who gives a brickety-brack, frickety-frack! Talk about our PAYCHECKS. Talk about GROCERY STORE PRICES. Talk about UTILITY costs. Then, politicians, you will have hit home with all the people in the nation. For Judas sake, can you not even do a simple equation to figure out the common link? Shoot.

About the President

I don't take the Presidency seriously. I have had a lifetime of social instruction that has left me with a flippant attitude towards the POTUS. Let me explain how I have been directed to view our Commander-in-Chief.

I have NEVER, in my lifetime, heard ANYONE refer to any of the Presidents, who have graced the White House since 1965, in a respectful manner. I've seen them derided and lampooned, treated as a constant source of entertainment. I haven't heard a President praised. Not while one was alive. My jaw was on the floor when I heard the effusive eulogies given upon Ronald Reagan's death. During his Presidency, he was ridiculed mercilessly. He was portrayed as an ultra-moron, no bigger fool had ever existed, unless you count all the other Presidents. It's one thing to make fun to keep pedestaled people in their place, it's another to attack their personality and reasoning to the point of breaking them down in the sight of all others.

To those of you out there who can't figure out why the latest generations have no respect for the prestigious offices held by ANY politicians - You have taught your children well!

Underage Thinking

I was thinking about context and perspective and thinking that we are all searching for both in our life. Then I decided we weren't really searching for them, it's more like we're surprised when we discover them, one or both.

What set me off on this thought was that I was hoeing and had just kicked up a renegade goat's head sticker plant.

When I was little, around three or so, we used to go to the butcher and get the gut wagon, which is exactly what you would think it is. My dad and uncle used to heat the remains in a huge trough and feed them to the pigs. In this offal there was intestines, blood and heads. Some were goat heads. One of my fondest childhood memories is when my little step-sister and I would sit on the fender of the wagon and dare each other to look in, hands clenched, head against the side of the trailer, ducked down, saying "No, you do it!", "I'm not gonna do it, you do it!". Ah, the tender years of youth.

One day, my grandmother made the comment that the field was so full of trash the tractor plow had goat heads dragging from it.

I can't tell you how many years it took me to realize what kind of goat heads she was talking about, but, boy, did the light shine bright over my head then.

Persistence

When I was young, I was astounded to find out most of my favorite songs were simply remastered songs from prior years. Led Zeppelin's Gallows Pole? Sung by Leadbelly decades earlier, and a folk song from long before that. As time goes along, I've found that most things are this way, and also that fads and inventions from centuries before seem more modern than now. You would think I would have grown used to the idea of old is new, new is old, but I guess some things are like a toy you never get tired of, a puzzle with a new twist.

I was reading Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes: A Study in Scarlet the other day, and I found that the back story for Dr. John Watson was that he had been wounded in what he called the Second Afghan War previous to making the acquaintance of Holmes. That was around 1878. Again, astonished to find that the "news" is old. What can be said about Afghanistan now that hasn't been discussed before in the last century and a half?

I couldn't find the chicken and kitten photos I wanted to post here, so I put up an old photo of a spider wearing all it's babies, or else it has a mighty infestation of some kind.

I noticed today that Hastings in Sweetwater will be closing, and I heard someone in another store say that the doors will close Aug. 20. Jack in the Box out by the interstate recently closed, also. Some will blame it on the economy. You never hear a store take the blame for closing. "Oh, we were sloppy with the book-keeping",  "We had really lousy customer service", and "We didn't do all we could do in the PR dept." are all real possibilities. The story of my failed make-believe store would be "I had no idea what I was doing!".

Lemony Lemonade

All during the week I think of at least a half-dozen good topics to talk about, and many more that would be inappropriate, but come time to put fingers to keys, it's like my mind is stuck between channels. Where are all those specific points I made while talking to myself (in my head, I hope), where are all those prolific, ecclesiastical realizations I came to that I couldn't wait to share with you all? Gone. Like the wind.  Like Tuesday, as Skynyrd says. I can barely put two sentences together. Ok, it's not that bad. You might say "Write those ideas down so you can remember". I've got a whole drawer of reminders. There's nothing quite as stale as an idea gone cold.

I keep trying to think of positive things about this remarkable heat (lemonade from lemons), because if I can't think of an upside, I'm gonna brain myself. Here's my little list:

1. You can hang clothes on the line and they're dry in about five minutes. By the way, let me brag here about the new clothes line that Mr. Me put up. It's snazzy! I don't think I've ever had such tight wires.
2. You can see which plants are the hardiest and use those to landscape your yard. Go somewhere that there are plants you would actually want, like Rough Creek. Or the Caribbean.
3. You appreciate 6:30 a.m. a lot more, since it's the only time that is bearable to be outside.

That's it, I'm tapped. It's pretty miserable.

The photo is one of the multiple little shower clouds that we've watched float around us. On July 3, we saw a tornado, but it only lasted about 40 seconds. No, really, and I have witnesses. Mr. is the one who said, "Yes, I see it, it's a tornado," after I said "I must be seeing things". Also, I heard through the grapevine that Bobby Wright saw it, too. We thought it was over by the gin, but it must have been closer to Sardis.

It looks like someone has taken interest in the old Beavers store up at Camp Springs. There was a pick-up with old appliances from inside the house on it and I saw a guy on a little backhoe working up there. The realtor's sign that's been there for a few years is gone. I wish it would be a store, again, but I think only someone who didn't want to make money would open one up. It sure would be convenient for us locals, though.

We spent the Fourth in Roscoe on the second. I don't know what it is about the town that makes it so good for festivals. It was like being at a gigantic family reunion. It probably has a lot to do with organizational skills, as well as the good people of the town.

I got my electric bill this week and I did NOT have a heart attack. It was just about a fifth of what I expected it to be. Thank goodness for little mercies. I hope all of you will find some of your own.

Bird's the Word

I gotta tell ya, I enjoy my Twitter account more than anything else online, including Facebook. The few people I follow have sharp wit and can capture thoughts with just a few words. I keep thinking I need to have hundreds that I follow, like everyone else, but I feel like my group is the best and just reading what they have to say keeps me busy enough.

My top two favorites are Elizabeth Baker, author of  Half-Baked Twice as Good, and Linda Sharps, who writes for The Stir. Both of these women are hard-core, living life as normal women, both as wives, one also as a mom. I like the real way they talk, their cynicism and their big, but not too mushy, hearts.

Alex Hyde seems to be from somewhere near Austin and an educator. He's very clever and not arrogant.

Shriek House provides humorous and cynical outtakes on family life. For some reason I'm thinking she also writes for The Stir.

Chris Sherman is an excellent Associated Press writer. He is the Rio Grande Valley correspondent here in Texas. He has written many articles about the big damn mess that's going on at the border. I admire his unbiased and factual writing style. He has a great voice on paper. He's currently on leave for a fellowship, but I hope to see more articles by him this August.

Linda follows a few people, like I do, probably for informational purposes only, but I like knowing she's out there watching and I try to keep her updated about what's going on in the community.

I urge you to get your own Twitter account! Then you can inform the world of such things as "I love this song", and "Just dropped ice cream on my shoes". It's fun.

SISD Feels Budget Cuts, Closes Hobbs School

The Hobbs School has closed doors behind another school administration. According to a Sweetwater Reporter article written last December, the Sweetwater Independent School District will consolidate their alternative education program with the Colorado (City) ISD to save the school district money. The savings at that time were estimated to be $75,000 for the alternative education program (AEP) and $35,000 for the discipline alternative education program (DAEP). The amount was increased to $130,000, collectively, according to a February SR article. Students will be transported to the Wallace School in C-City.

The Great Divide

Well, it's very dismaying to watch the chasm widen between politicians and constituents. Politicians are following some blind path, being led by the call of an old, decrepit, mythical bird, and constituents are left at the camp alone, wondering why tortillas are three times the price they were two years ago.

And seriously, when the candidate's platform is president bashing, they are of less than no use to me. Also, dispense with the general promises and projections. Who needs another candy machine in the cafeteria, Charlie Brown?

Who are these politicians pandering to? Not me, that's for sure.

I want someone who is smart and savvy. Not someone who declares to have a solution to all the problems, just someone who makes sense.

Honestly, I think the the people I see on tv who are running for public office don't understand the regular person's day to day life. You would think we're all obsessed with abortion, health care and smoking policies if the news was any indicator. I'm frenetic about paying my bills, although the people I owe money to might think otherwise. Vehicle maintenance is also a daily factor.

That's another issue. Politicians make blanket promises when the needs of the many are diverse. Country, city, north, south, shore, land, old, young, the list of variations is never ending. But the incumbents and nominees hammer away at dead horses.

I've noticed in my life that if someone keeps harping on a subject, you eventually form an opinion, even if it's an issue you could care less about. So then here we are, arguing about things that we don't give a damn about in general, forgetting what's really important to us.

Dear Politician, I don't want you to solve my problems. I don't want new laws. Just be a good, dependable manager of public policy.