Uninvited--but welcome--guest at my tea party

It was Sunday morning at Rusca House Bed and Breakfast in Natchitoches, Louisiana.  I awoke early so I could knit and drink hot tea and enjoy the beautiful back yard garden.   As I sat knitting and sipping tea, this cat walked past me, then made a u-turn, hopped up on the chair catty-corner to me and sussed out what was in my cup.  I was quite charmed by the situation. It seemed--somehow--to be right out of Alice in Wonderland.

Thanksgiving Weekend, Galveston!!

I had a very relaxing, enjoyable time Thanksgiving weekend. Since Mom and Daddy were in Oregon for Thanksgiving and Aunt Nona was in Georgetown watching Jennifer play basketball, I decided to finally take my one-year paid vacation. The guy who sold me my vacation week was able to give me two nights at the resort for free, so I slept, and took bubble baths, and watched t.v. and ate in style. That first photo is from the kitchen in my unit. I took other photos of the rest of the unit, but they disappeared from my camera! Not sure why, but I guess it doesn't matter now since I have a new camera!
When I planned this vacation, I determined that I would do at least four certain things:
-Attend the inaugural Galveston Christmas Gift fair in the convention center.
-Watch the 4D Polar Express Movie.
-Walk through the Festival of Lights at Moody Garden, and
-Ice skate.

Of course I did all of them!

These really cool folded washclothes held my personal dishwashing liquid and salt and pepper. what a cute idea.  Never thought about the personal size salt and pepper, but I guess there would be no way to ensure that it wasn't contaminated.  and--I guess--in a way, it is nice to know that this stuff is just for me!

This adorable Boy Scout taught me how to fold my own personal American Flag.  This lesson was made possible by my donation of 1/3 of the money I spent at this holiday gift fair--$2.00.  Yes, you may go ahead and now refer to me as Loralee Fabulous Responsible Ford.

I forgot to mention to rockin' cool thing which happened as I was about to go into the Holiday Gift Fair.  I was about to descend the escalators when I saw a couple ascending the escalators on the other side.  I asked them if they had gone to the fair and they responded affirmatively.  By this time, they were at the top and i had started descending.  I asked them if it was worth the $ 5.00.   The man of the couple looked at the woman of the couple and she turned to me and said, "Come back up here."  Of course, I obeyed.  When I got to the top, the man of the couple handed me a yellow ticket and said, "Enjoy yourself!"  I thought it was a wonderful thing to do, especially since--I found out later--that it was a VIP ticket which was worth $ 25.  I had access to the VIP lounge which had punch, wine, cheese, appetizers and cookies.  I only had one bite of a cookie--the head off of a gingerbread man!  Nothing else seemed good, though I enjoyed looking at the Christmas decorations, talking to the wine lady (didn't drink any though) and looking at the fruit and vegetable art.  Really, Really cool!  The above photo is a parrot made out of yellow squash!!

A watermelon, carved into some flowers.

Not sure what it is, but it is pretty and made out of a white pumpkin!

Next came the lights!   I had a really cool picture of about 15 butterflies made out of Christmas lights, but it disappeared from my camera, along with those photos of my unit.

Oh!  I found the photo of the fifteen butterflies, except there is really eighteen! If you click on it--after you're done reading the blog, of course, cos you don't want to miss the video at the end!--you can see some really interesting details.

Yo Ho Ho and a bottle of unsweet iced tea with no sugar and no lemon!

This is me.  I am waiting in line, wholly ready to watch Polar Express 4D.  I was disappointed to find that it wasn't the whole movie, only some highlights.  It was really rockin' cool, though. I would not be averse to seeing more 4D films. In the Spring, I think Moody Gardens (in Galveston) is showing The Wizard Of Oz in 4D.  I'll have to take a trip down then.

Clearly, we can put the below photo down as a bad job.   I thought it looked cool, though, so we're keeping it!

About the 4D:  It was awesome!  The seats rumbled like we were on a train, and lights flashed like the front light on a train.  In the hot chocolate scene, we could smell hot chocolate, and--coolest of all--when we were at the scene wherein the train was rushing across that big ice pond, skidding everywhere with a crack chasing after it, and putting on the brakes, causing ice to shoot out from the back of the train, we felt a spray of cool water on our faces.  I think it came down from the ceiling, but it was such a surprise and a delight!  I loved it--except for the guy in the row behind me who was loudly complaining about what a waste of money this movie was going to be.  I do not concur with him, however.  It was AWESOME!!! Just sayin'.

  

The hot chocolate scene!

The gal sitting next to me had some rockin' cool shoes.  She didn't think they sold them in adult sizes, though. :(

Santa was sweet and let me take his picture.  It cost ten dollars to sit on his lap, so I decided to forego sitting in his lap and telling him what I want for Christmas.  You remember that my name for the weekend is Loralee Fabulous Responsible Ford, yeah?

Moody Gardens is famous for it purty flowers, especially during the summer months.  Thankfully--though it was a cold, cold night which required coats and hats and gloves and scarves--there were a few beautiful yeller flowers here and there around the Festival of Lights.  This was one of the last photos I took with my, now defunct, camera.   By the way, yellow flowers are my favorite!! <3

It was a lovely, lovely, lovely vacation!  I got to take three...count 'em...three jacuzzi, hot-tub, soaky, bubble baths!  YAY!

Dunno where I took this accidental shot, but the colors in it made me happy, so I decided to include it in this tableau...

...and, here I am, ice-skating!  YAY!

Hope y'all had as much fun as I did!

Another Ford Family

Because of the vehicle company, my surname is a household word. The last name 'Ford' isn't really popular, however. Out of a national population of almost 313,000,000, people who bear the last name Ford number only 205,000. And, really, as a grown-up, I have only met about maybe 20 people--other than family--who also share the name my Daddy gave me. Which is why I was ecstatic when--on my annual paid vacation from work--I met a whole family of Fords.
When the little girl told me her name was Victoria, I said with happiness, "My little sister is named Victoria! Victoria (omit middle name on the world wide web) Ford!" My new little friend Victoria gasped and said, "Really? My name is Victoria (omit middle name on the world wide web) Ford!"
"No!" "Yes!" and everyone was really excited that we have the same name. Anyway, they spent the evening (and I watched) playing the game of Life. It was fun and I liked the idea of *sorta* spending the first night on vacation with my family playing games.

Victoria and Denzel are playing the game of Life.

a bad photo (but Mom looks so beautiful in this one, so I had to post it) of Mom and Ricky, Jr.

Ricky, Jr., Mom, Ricky, Sr. and part of Victoria.  All these kids love the camera!

The other Victoria!

Me!

Denzel is doing his little dance on the catwalk!

The Fords, junior

Aren't they adorable!?! They were having fun posing!

'

Thanksgiving with the Wrights

For Thanksgiving this year, my family was unavailable. Mom and Daddy went to Oregon to spend the week with my brother, Douglas, and his wife, Boyd. My aunt was spending the holiday weekend cheering on her youngest grand-daughter in a basketball tournament. I had the pleasure of spending the day with the family of one of my college friends. We had a really nice time eating and playing guitar and visiting. The men might have enjoyed watching football, but I did not. My camera was working that day. However, three days later, it started to malfuction greatly, and today, it died completely. :( So, these are some of the last pictures I took with my Kodak Easy Share. I'm hoping to be able to afford this one in its place.
After the family supper, Rachel and I went back to her home. We watched--and sang along--to an awesome HD version of Beauty and Beast and an un-awesome (but only cos it was a live action film. Ever notice how weird and kinda lame live action is on HD) version of Lemonade Mouth. I like the movie a ton! The music is fun and then there is the fact that there is a red-head in it. Y'all know how much a fan of redheads I am. Rachel and I joked that the redhead was my boyfriend and the long-haired brunette was her boyfriend. Such fun! It was a great day.

Aunnie and her niece and nephew.

An accidentally art-y shot.

An adorable baby in an adorable hat!

Leah and her baby girl!

Three generations! <3

three girls from college.

Sunset on Thanksgiving Day--Beautiful!

Sunset on Thanksgiving Day--Beautiful!

Another sunset. Really interesting colors. Almost unreal.

Grandpa Todd and his grand-girl!

Simple Woman's Daybook: 20NOV11

Can you believe I haven't don't one of these blogs since the 24th of July?   I guess it is time for one, yeah?


Simple Woman's Daybook: 20NOV11
FOR TODAY:
Outside my window...I am outside my window. Pop and I are sitting outside on the carport, waiting for our dinner to finish grilling.  We're having barbecue ham, corn on the cob and brussells sprouts.  When I bring it all in--and while I'm getting Pop dressed for bed--I'll pop a few rolls in the oven and we'll have a nice colorful meal!  But for now, he and I are enjoying the air getting a bit crisper and cooler, a few lingering crickets chirping, and the very, very end of the sunset.  By the way, the clouds are moving very swiftly over our heads.  Sometimes, it is just so amazing how nature works, yeah?
I am thinking..that I am really enjoying the approach of Autumn/Winter.  I'm hoping that next year by this time, I will be living somewhere that has Four Seasons!  But we'll see.  I'm staying here until Pop doesn't need me anymore, as far as I know.
I am thankful for...the many people who have been praying for me during this ovary/cyst scare I've been going through the past two months.
From the learning rooms...I'm learning how to use my new computer.  Every single brand is different.
From the kitchen...I'll be making the Ford family Thankgiving tradition 'Cranberry Salad' on Wednesday.
I am wearing...capris and a green blouse.
I am creating...knitted caps.
I am going...to try to be less selfish.  What a challenge, yeah?
I am reading...a book about some English lady who moves to the American West.
I am hoping...that I don't let myself down and spend the Four Seasons money on things that aren't either a) an emergency and b) moving someplace with Four Season.
I am hearing...crickets and the sound of highway traffic.
Around the house...nothing much!
One of my favorite things...playing my guitar.
A few plans for the rest of the week: preparing for my Thanksgiving/One Year Vacation weekend in Galveston this weekend.  Oh, and Thanksgiving Dinner with Rachel Wright and her familia.
A photograph for your consideration:

I took this picture last Saturday at the end of my work day. This kind of light is what I call 'otherworldly.'  I imagine that this is what the sky looks like if you live in Brigadoon.

So, here is what is going on...

...an adventure, of sorts.  By the way, if you're squeamish about 'girlie' stuff, you prolly oughta hit the back button right about now.  Just so ya know.

Between 21Apr and 07Jun, I somehow managed to have four whole (actually longer than normal) periods.  Just in case it happens to be early in the morning and you  haven't had your coffee yet, I'll do the math for you.  That is four periods in 7 weeks.  Even you men who like to steer away from anything "female problem-y" know that  this particular number of periods in such a small amount of time is problematic, yeah?
In tears, I called my doctor after the third period started a mere 3 1/2  weeks after the first one began.  She didn't seem awfully concerned.  She told me to lay off the fish oil cos some studies have shown that fish oil taken together with aspirin can cause extra bleeding.  Of course, I obeyed. When--two weeks after the third one began--another one arrived, I continued freaking out.  My doctor suggested that we wait to see how it continued (since the length of time between periods was lengthening out) and I had an appointment with her on the 14th of July.  Again, I obeyed; however, I made certain that we discussed it when I saw her in July.
Since my periods had 'evened' out, she didn't think we ought  to worry.  She did--however--order an ultrasound.   It must not have been put as urgent or anything cos my appointment was not set until the 4th of October--nearly three months later.
So,  it was the day of my ultrasound and I drank the requisite 30 million gallons of water.  Of course, they were running behind! :)  I think she took me into the examining room about 45 minutes late.   It all seemed like a normal test until we got to the intrauterine part.  (I'd just like to say BLECH and OOOWWWW.) My tech began asking some questions which I answered and then asked "Why do you ask?"  She asnwered way too quickly for my comfort but then never did or said anything else suspicious.  I was glad it was over and I went on my way with a wonderfully empty bladder.
A few days later, I go a letter in the mail informing me that I had another appointment with the gynecologist in Houston.  When I first read it, I was a little concerned, but then I thought, "Well, this really can't be anything scary cos there is no way a letter can get here from Houston in a day and a half.  Plus,  the letter is dated the 3rd and my appointment was on the 4th.   And because I had a lot of audit  jobs scheduled for that week's day off, I called the VA and rescheduled for HALLOWEEN (mwahahahaha).
So, the next week, I had my normal quarterly appointment with my regular doctor.  Imagine my surprise when she informed me that the ultrasound had revealed an unidentifiable mass on my left ovary (or maybe fallopian tube or uterus--I honestly cannot remember what it was, just that it was a girlie part!)  I was a little shocked--to say the least--and I really regretted moving that appointment.  However, next Monday, I will see the gynecologist again and--hopefully very soon--he will schedule more tests to see what is going on down there.  I've heard rumors that I will be getting an MRI, but I guess I'll just wait and see.
Meanwhile, I'm trying to have a good attitude and not worry.  and I'm  praying.  I hope y'all are, too.   I will let y'all know when I  know.
Love,
ME,
Loralee Fabulous "All of y'all" Ford   :-P      

Inheriting Beautiful

For Mother, so she knows I recognize both—and love her still. 

It’s Time 
November 10th, 2002, San Marcos, Texas, 2:00 p.m. 
I punched the 'play' button on my answering machine as I walked into the house at two o’clock that Sunday afternoon. A message from my sister, Lana, began playing as I hung my keys in their proper place by the door. “ Loralee, Mother was put on a respirator this morning at eleven o’clock. It’s time for you to head up here to Fort Worth.” I packed a bag full of clothes, filled the gas tank and grabbed some traveling money. By three o’clock, San Marcos was in my rear-view mirror. 

She Was 
1943-2002, Everywhere 
She was always the epitome of beauty to me. Her thick, healthy, auburn hair fell down past her waist. She was lithe and lovely, feminine and free-spirited, and her perfectly photogenic face was decorated by a dimple every time she smiled. She was intelligent and talented. She wrote literature and painted. She healed and encouraged. She helped and loved people--complete strangers, even. She was amazing. 


Saying Goodbye 
November 10th, 2002, John Peter Smith Hospital, Fort Worth, Texas, 8:00 p.m. 
When I arrived in her hospital room, Larry, her ex-husband, was there, diligently keeping watch over the woman he still loved. I could not stop the tears as I first glimpsed her lying there in her hospital bed. She looked like a machine. Tubes ran out of each arm, leading up to bags filled with liquids in varying colors. Metallic heart monitor leads snaked out from under her blue and white hospital gown. An oxygen mask was strapped over her nose and mouth. She lay motionless, except for her chest which--aided by a respirator--rose and fell in a marked cadence. She was fifty-nine years and fourteen days old, but because of her lifestyle and the fact that Death hovered over her quiet body, she looked more like eighty. Sitting in the chair next to her bed, I leaned over so that my mouth was next to her ear. I whispered to her, encouraging her to do whatever it was that she must do. “Don’t worry, Mother,”  I said. “Your sister, Lana, Jon, Amelia and I—we’ll all take care of each other. It’s okay if you need to let go.”  It was four hours later that she did, at twelve-forty-five in the morning on Veterans’ Day. 

Target 
Summer, 1980, Arlington, Texas 
I got to ride shotgun this time because Lana and Jonathan hadn’t joined us on our trek to the store. I was excited about getting to spend some time with her alone--just me and mother.  As soon as we drove into the parking lot, Mother noticed a lady whose hands were full of shopping bags, plodding away from the store. She pulled up alongside the woman and rolled down her window.  “Pardon me, Ma’am? I noticed that you look exceptionally weary. My daughter and I would love to offer you a ride home. Please, let us help.”  The woman agreed and I scrambled into the back seat, allowing her to climb into the more comfortable front passenger seat. 
Following the lady’s instructions, we drove the mile to her house. Just before the woman hefted herself out of the car, Mother went into lecture mode. “Now, I have a condition to the help I’ve given," she said earnestly.  "Since I’ve saved you these 30 minutes of walking time by giving you a ride, I want you to promise me that you’ll rest for the same amount of time. Grab yourself a cold Dr. Pepper and prop up your feet. Take a nap or—better yet—a hot bubble bath! Just make sure you do something for you, please?”  As she exited the car, this woman--a complete stranger even--promised that she would. 
I was in awe. I must have asked her why she helped the woman because she began explaining.  “Loralee, from the moment I first saw her, I could feel the weariness rolling off her in waves. I could do something so simple and it would make her day brighter. It was just so easy to help her. It cost me only a few extra minutes of my time and about twenty-five cents in gasoline. Loralee, please understand this fact—everyone is worth some compassion.” 


The Way Things Seemed 
1979-1987, Universal City, Texas 
I was raised in a Yours, Mine and Ours family by my military daddy and my step-mom. The four of us kids knew we were loved, but the instances when we received hugs or actually heard the words 'I love you' were few. It wasn’t this way when I visited Mother, though. The minute she spotted me leaving the airplane, her face lit up in a smile. Each time, I had barely come into her arms reach before I was enveloped in a bear hug and asked the question she often asked, “Has anyone told you today that they love you? If not, can I be first? If so, can I be next?” 
Life would teach me in later years that Mother’s more outwardly, showy kind of love isn’t always the best kind of love—or even the most honest kind of love. Back then, however--to a romantic  teenager--Mother’s love felt so much more real than the steadfast and quiet kind of love I received every day back home with Mom and Daddy. I wanted to feel her kind of love all the time. And more importantly, I wanted to be just like this beautiful, vivacious, charismatic and outwardly loving woman. 

Worth Waaaaay More Than Checks 
November 13th, 2002, Arlington, Texas 
We found mother’s braids in an old checkbook box stuffed in her daddy’s antique secretary. Lana wanted to throw them away, but I vehemently protested. At the time, I was thinking  “Locks For Love could use this hair.” There were two braids, each measuring between 10 and 20 inches long. It was in my plans—sometime in the next few months—to cut off my hair and send it in, also. I liked the idea of our hair going in together to the Locks For Love foundation to help make wigs for kids with cancer. This reason alone was a good one for not assigning her hair to the trash bin, but there was, buried way down deep—and not sorted through quite yet--another reason for keeping these braids. I wouldn’t understand for many months that these bits of braided hair represented a mother to whom I was not ready to say goodbye. 

Taking Off The Rose Colored Glasses 
September 28, 2002, Arlington, Texas 
The trip I made from San Marcos to Arlington seemed really long. Even so, at ten a.m., I was the first child to make it to mother’s home for our impromptu family reunion. The smell of cigarette smoke instantly sparked a headache as I walked into my mother’s cluttered home. I found her seated on her ragged couch in the living room, dressed in her leopard skin baby doll nightgown. Already, her hand was curled around a wine glass which sat on an end table. Within her hand’s reach were several familiar items—a blanket, a lighter, a crossword puzzle book with a pen affixed to its front, a well-worn romance novel, and a plate--3/4s full with the leftovers from last night’s meal. 
She asked for my help in getting ready which I gave without hesitation. I hadn’t realized when I’d agreed what it would entail. I helped her up from her couch and we slowly walked the fifty feet to the bathroom. It took five minutes. As we walked, she let me know that she didn’t feel strong enough to stand up by herself in the shower. So, when we got to the bathroom, she stripped off her nightgown and knelt down beside the tub. She looked weak and tiny and frail. Her ribs stuck out in such contrast that, in the right light, she looked like a continuous mountain and valley range. At one point, as I reached down to steady myself, my hand closed completely around her ankle. I felt horrified, but I strove diligently to erase it from my voice as we continued talking about work and school and what was going on in each other's lives. But, in my heart, I was crying with fear. 

Caravan: Gifts From Far And Near 
Summer, 1997, Six Flags Mall, Arlington, Texas 
Mother and I saw the older couple walking around the mall as we left the food court to head back to her gift shop. I was 28 that year, so I was fully accustomed to Mother’s way of greeting people--complete strangers, even--and making friends of them. It didn’t surprise me, therefore, when we made the slight detour on our way back to the shop. As we approached the older couple, I heard her say  “Sir? I just wanted to let you know that I think you have a beautiful wife.” Both of them beamed brightly as they thanked her and continued with their walk. Mother usually found ways to turn situations like these into life lessons. This day would be no exception.  “Loralee, it is so important to give people their roses while they’re still alive. Tomorrow may never come and we hear such an awful amount of negativity in our world. Just a few well-placed words may really brighten someone’s day.” 


Epiphany, Incomplete 
February 03, 2003, Southwest Texas State University, San Marcos, Texas 
I was talking to Robert after our literature class one Monday Night. There was no sorrow in me. I had already come to grips with her death, I thought. I was just sharing, matter-of-factly, the little details of my life—like the fact that my mother had passed three months before. But suddenly and intensely—and for the first time, really—I saw her head on that threadbare blue and white pillowcase. With perfect clarity, I saw the ugly, charcoal brown hair, liberally sprinkled with gray. There was no trace of brown or red or blonde anywhere. There wasn't even any of the dyed red in it. Suddenly, I felt her death all over again. She was gone and I would never see her again. My heart, having just started to “heal” from the intellectual understanding of her death, broke again in what seemed like a much more solid and tangible and permanent way. She was gone. And each, every, and all of the wonderful things about her had to be gone, too, didn’t they? I was devastated. 

Seeing the Impossible 
June 1983, Terrell, Texas 
It was a Sunday evening and we were driving back from the Texas Greco-Roman Festival in Terrell. I sat in the back passenger seat behind my mother. A strong gust of wind blew a bit of her hair back toward me; so I grabbed it and examined it with care. The sun mixed in with her browns and reds and blondes. At that moment, I was completely certain that there was absolutely nothing in this big wide world which could compete with the beauty of my mother’s hair. Another gust of wind blew a piece of my hair out of my loosely made bun. It landed just next to mother’s hair. I sat there staring at the two locks of hair. Disbelief and awe warred within my 13-year-old insecure brain. My hair was the same color as my mother’s beautiful hair. As this thought sank deeper into my understanding, I smiled with joy. Did this mean I was beautiful, also—like my mother? 

Finally Understanding 
May 2005, Austin, Texas 
Loralee, 
You are a jewel in the sight of God as you are a good friend to those who know you. You have something about you that makes others (complete strangers, even) feel intrinsic worth and that is a gift. 
W. A. Baker. 

Happy in Summerland 
June 5th, 2008, My Dreams 
I dreamed about her last night. She was the same, but different. Her hair was cut short like before, but she had let the dye grow out. It was just a regular sort of brown instead of that unnatural red she used to color it. When I arrived at her home for a visit, she was sitting outside under the trees, sipping a glass of something cold and enjoying the setting of the sun. It was a beautiful twilight—my favorite time of day. The sun was gone, but it was still light out. The sky was a beautiful soft blue with pale pink streaked through it. It was breathtaking. Somehow, everything just seemed right with the world. 
She was living in an old fashioned cottage that seemed much bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. It was cozy and comfortable and she had all her favorite things surrounding her—her brushes, her paints, and a laptop so she could write. The place suited her perfectly. 
We finished our cold drinks—mine was iced tea, no sugar, no lemon—and went inside to clean up. We were meeting some of her friends for dinner. She was smiling and comfortable and happy there in that home. She was dreaming of a peaceful, hopeful life again. She was so different from the woman I had known the last few years before her death. In my dream, I was so very thankful to see her happy and to be able to spend time with her again. But then I awakened.  And I remembered.  And I missed her.  And I cried.