Dallas Blooms

You may have heard me whine that my green thumb has all but disappeared now that we are residents of the Lone Star State. In the past I was able to plant and ignore. Over water, under water --- what the heck? Fertilize, enrich, re pot --- whatcha talkin' about? My children once told me that they were glad when I went back to work because then I had less time to focus on them and their behavior. Oh, what kidders! Of course, I do seem to spend much more time tending the flora that briefly take root in our condo; but the damn ungrateful cultivars sulk and rebel like unruly teenagers, forcing me to eventually unfriend them. So much for bloom where you are planted. And, no, that's not my garden. I live in a condo so I don't have to "garden."

Plus One

Good God! Is it 2012 already?!?

February is the shortest month of the year, but we manage to fill its days with all kinds of celebrations, and no, those days do not fly by if you live in one of the colder climes. I do not so that is plus one for me.

You know that TV commercial that asks us, what would you do if you had one extra day? Well, this is it, people, and I bet you are frittering it away. Not me! I got up early and prepped citrus chicken for tonight. I know. Call me crazy, but it's just one day. Then, I swung by the mall to return items. Yeah, yeah, but with the cost of gasoline and food and medications, do I really need another pair of skinny jeans? On to the fun stuff ..... lunch on the porch at a neighborhood Italian restaurant, basking in the sunshine and ignoring the high pollen count. Afterwards, a lazy afternoon on my deck, watching the trees bud and blossom and listening to the birds tweet and chirp in their little Texas twangs.

Bottom line: sure, if I had planned ahead, I would have spent that extra day at the beach, y'all; but I tend to procrastinate (it's a talent) and if you think about it ........... every day is a plus one so use them wisely.

Cowboy Christmas

Christmas comes but once a year, and sometimes even that is a little too often. Don't get me wrong, y'all. I love Christmas - the lights, the bells, the mistletoe, the sleepy horses and buggies that clip-clop down our street on their way home after the party every night. It is a truly spectacular show - the sights, the sounds, the smells, the glitz, the glam ..... It's Broadway, Hollywood, and Las Vegas wrapped up in red ribbon and a bit of tinsel.

Yes, I want to buy a ticket; however, I do not want to write the script or direct the production. For me, every year, no matter what, my favorite thing is sitting in the dark, holding that cheap candle with the white paper collar, softly singing the familiar carols, and thinking peace on earth might just be possible, after all.

disclaimer: not my house, not my cows

Ghost Busters

Pretty much the story of my life, currently at least, is a day late. Another Halloween, come and gone, with nary a ghost nor goblin nor raven tapping at our door ..... or window pane, for that matter. The untouted joys of condo living in a childless neighborhood.....

The Long Hot Summer

Some-some-summertime. The plant outside our door pretty much sums up the season. Simmered -scorched-fried. Not to insinuate that we are frazzled or overheated. Everybody knows that the days are longer and hotter in Texas. We wouldn't have it any other way. But let's not be ridiculous, people. July: thirty out of thirty-one days with temperatures soaring over one hundred degrees. August: another thirty out of thirty-one. Do we really have to make this heat wave a pattern? At least, we have avoided earth quakes and hurricanes, for now. Like I said, "I love Dallas .... in the summer ..... when it sizzles."

A Dream in a Drawer

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore -
and then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over -
Like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?
--- Langston Hughes

Y'all are looking at my art studio. Oh, well, of course, I do not climb into the drawer and set up my easel, but I might as well because the table I employ for my endeavors is a jack-of-all-trades piece that serves for dining, package wrapping and clutter gathering.

I have always dreamed of being an artist, not one who works for a living, but rather one who occupies a garret in Paris. Let's just skip over talent and instruction. Maybe I'll go the Grandma Moses route. The biggest obstacle in the path of my dream is .......... myself. Shockingly, I am lazy (so much trouble getting everything out of the drawer, setting up, cleaning up) and I procrastinate ( tomorrow, for sure, I am going to spend time with my paints unless something really important intrudes). So, Langston, I really wish I could tell you what happens to this dream deferred, but tomorrow begins a brand new month, August, in fact. What better time to start on that New Year's resolution?