Zac Maloy "Last Song" from Kelly Kerr on Vimeo.

This guy's name is Zac Maloy. You might remember him from the Oklahoma City group The Nixons back in the mid-nineties. I'm not sure if they're still together but I always liked their music. I saw them once with the Toadies as an opening act.



I always thought this song would fit well in a vampire movie.

Memorial Day...

...it aint just about the picnics and the 3 day weekend.

Thank you for your selfless bravery, for leaving your loved ones to protect mine, for doing what the average person isn't prepared to do for the promise of peace. May you walk with God and your sacrifices not be in vain.

In response to another blogger's post...

There are things about my life I'd change if I could do it over. I figure, since we can't change the past we can pick and choose what we'd do differently if we could. I wouldn't trade being my daughter's mother and grandmother to her children for anything. I wouldn't have married her father if I'd known then what I know now about how things would end up. See, we kinda got the cart before the horse. We were engaged to be married in May but married 2 months earlier than planned because she was on the way. I could have had her without him, but in that day and age, in that small town, and with the parents we had, the thing to do was to get married. I loved him, I still love the person I thought he was, but if given a do over, even though there were many good memories made along the way, I wouldn't marry him. I lost a lot, my life is completely different than it used to be. I didn't just lose a husband.

The fact is, even if I could change the past there would have been other trials and obstacles. In many ways, I was lucky in my divorce. I didn't have small children I'd have been obligated by law to share with the other woman by way of enforced visitation with their father, and at least he was man enough to help me for a couple of years so I could get through school and be able to provide for myself because heaven knows the good ol' boy state of Texas isn't exactly keen on spousal support.

I've lived the better part of the last 3 years with "what ifs." It's futile. It's time to look foward.

My parents have been here visiting from Kansas. They are on their way back home this morning. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy their undivided attention this week. It was hard to see them go. If it didn't mean leaving my daughter and her family I think I'd move back home. I wish they weren't so far away.

A side effect of their visit is that my Dad, who can't sit still, fixed a slow drain, a faulty lock on my back door, a piece of tile in the bathroom, and my broken down lawn mower situation.

My baby sister turned 47 this week.

The baby is cutting teeth and trying to crawl. He's been a little grouch.

Taks test results were announced this week. My oldest grandson made perfect scores in math and reading, and got a 3 out of 4 for writing, (average is a 2)and was commended in all three subjects. I hope he keeps it up with the academics. He also made the all-star team in baseball. It was his first year to play.

Maybe I should rename my blog Grandma's Brag Book.

And for your listening pleasure....

what the...?

OK, all you Texans, what kind of bug does this? At first I thought they were ants but there are no ants around the little divets. If you watch closely you can see something throw up little puffs of dirt. It kind of looks like someone has been walking around in spike heels.

John Hiatt / Cry Love

Another good mando song for the person who likes mandolin, besides the one I already showed him. I love John Hiatt. He writes great songs and his raspy voice is like no one elses.

My grandsons adore each other. The baby looks up to his big brother already and big brother dotes on the baby. I was told by the oldest I was not allowed to show anyone this photo I took last week because some of his friends might see it, but it was such a happy accident I reneged on my promise.

all acoustic all the time, except when it's not

I know that first song isn't acoustic, but it's close enough because it's a favorite.

Ode to my daughter

We grew up together, she and I. I was nothing more than a clueless, scared teenager when she was born and I really had no business becoming a mother. Throughout the pregnancy I lived in a sort of fog of denial. Of course the burgeoning belly and the constant nausea were a little difficult to ignore, so there were moments of lucidity.

She had a mommy and she had a daddy and she had a pug nosed pekingese named Toby awaiting her arrival. She had a room with a hand-me-down baby bed and a closet with a collection of pretty pink things courtesy of her grandma.

It was 1977 and I was a guinea pig, or as I prefer to think of it, a pioneer. I was one of the first in our small town to have a sonogram and that was only because there was a salesman in town with a prototype trying to get the hospital to buy one and I volunteered to be used as an example. My OB/GYN had been to a seminar recently and had learned how to do epidural catheters. I think back now and thank god I didn't know how long the needle was and how one slip between my vertebrae by an inexperienced person could have caused irreversible damage. All I knew was he said, "hey, there's this new thing that will make it so you won't feel a damn thing during the birthing process." I didn't, either. I also didn't feel my legs again until the wee hours of the morning following the birth.

She was born on a Friday at 7:26 p.m. The labor went much more quickly than they expected. I blinked my eyes and we were in the delivery room with the doctor donned in scrubs and mask and singing Red-Neck Mother.(It was funny at the time but looking back I wondered if he was making some sort of statement)Push push push, episiotomy,
cold room, legs shaking in stirrups in spite of the fact they were paralyzed, wild-eyed, startled, long-haired, man-child husband at my side and a beautiful 8 pound 6 ounce baby girl entered the world to change my life forever and for the better.

Except for the years between ages 14 and 20. Lord, lord, those teenage years when I couldn't do anything right. It's okay now. Hindsight lets me know those turbulent years were normal. I didn't have the foresight at the time to realize she had to assert her independence and snip those apron strings. I can say, and she might even admit now that she has her own children, every decision I made was to protect her, not to persecute her. (I'm not certain she's forgiven me yet for not allowing her to go on the unsupervised senior trip to Mexico, but oh well.)

She's been both my joy and heart ache, because we never cease worrying about our children. She's a comfort and salve to my soul. Sadly and unfairly, there have been times when the roles have reversed and she has mothered me. She carries my heart, and I hope it's not a burden. She's given me the precious gift of grandchildren and she's a better mother than I ever thought about being. I did something right. I am so lucky.

Okay, so I am feeling a little guilty. I know I don't need to, but I do, all the same. I think I missed one class period this semester, two at the most. I turned in all my work on time or early.I have a friend in the class who was only there a handful of times. She has not yet turned in the last two projects. She asked me to email those two projects to her. I know she was going to turn in my work as her own, and there's a huge chance the teacher would never know since he's grading 40 page documents. I told her I'd send them, as examples, very reluctantly.

I changed them from word docs. to pdf. docs. If she tries to cut and paste she's going to work almost as hard as I did. Here's the part where I get holier than thou. I did the bloody work, so can she.

Part of me feels really evil for that.

A dog and a jumble of pots.

my apostrophe & me

Really aint got nuttin' 'cept same ol', same ol'
I have one final exam to go, and I just did my last homework assignment ever
I went to Mayfest with the kids yesterday, for the first and last time. It was okay but once you've been why go back.

I envy people with beautiful gardens. Everytime I've gotten a good start on one I have ended up moving. I had intentions of starting one this year, but funds are limited. I might plant a few pots with something cheap and cheerful, like petunias. Maybe next year, which is what I said last year.

Sometimes it's hard not to be envious of coupledom too. And I get so pissed off when I see couples who aren't trying hard enough to make it work. They don't know how lucky they are. People forget what's important when the excitement and thrill of the hunt have worn off.

I'm scared to go job hunting. I know I can do the work but I'm worried about finding a job. How do I explain my lack of job history at my age.
I know once I do find work I might be able to finally relax. I haven't relaxed and let my guard down for two years, even when I've had nothing to do. I'm scared this is what the rest of my life is going to be.

I guess this is what any young student fresh out of school feels; I'm a late bloomer.
One foot in front of the other...