So ... you know about the cowboy ghost that lives in my house, right? No? Then go here if you want to read more about him.
Anyway ... I think he has followed me to our house at the lake.
So, there I was, just lying in my bed watching a re-run of the Deadliest Catch (Time Bandits - WOO HOO - love that show!) snacking on a bag of Twizzlers, and the door to my bedroom, that was slightly ajar, suddenly closes on its own *creek, creek, ... click*. I SWEAR!
The cowboy ghost (I have gotten to where I call him "Cowboy" - it totally works!) has been flirting with me for many years. If he has followed me to the lake, decided he is finally going to start smooching on me ... he'd better use those invisible hands to lock that door!!
It was about this time, fourteen years ago, that we bought our house.
My mother and I had been out driving, drove by this house with a For Sale sign on it - I called my realtor and asked him to meet us quickly at the house to show it to me. By 6:00 p.m. that evening we had made an offer on the house, contingent on the sale of our other house. One month later, we were moving in.
That afternoon, when my realtor rushed over to show me the house, I entered the property and didn't even have to go inside the house - I knew I wanted to buy it. It had a huge 1 acre yard that was entirely fenced in and I knew this would be the perfect home for our family. My twins were 2 years old at the time.
So ... we bought it and moved in and have lived here ever since.
I have since realized that this is not the house of my dreams, but it has become the house my children have grown up in and it is our home. I think we will live in this house for the rest of our lives.
There are many special things about our house - but, not necessarily special to the naked eye. One of those things is ...
the cowboy ghost ...
that lives in the upstairs hallway leading to our bedrooms.
YES - a ghost!
I had seen the ghost many times, after we first moved in. I would be sitting in our little den area down by our kitchen and every so often - about 2 times a month - I would catch a glimpse of the ghost in the upstairs hallway.
I was always surprised and startled.
I was always confused.
I woud ALWAYS get up and go inspect the hallway and the bathroom - trying desperately to explain what I had seen.
The ghost would move from right to left. From my daughters' bedroom, across the hallway and then into the bathroom - a tall, dark shadow. That's the only time I ever saw him and that's all he ever did - move across the hallway from right to left. I never saw him go back again and I never saw him anywhere else in the house.
I was, however, the only one that ever saw the ghost and I never mentioned that I had seen him to anyone - not even my husband. That is, not until ...
One evening, my mother made the comment, "Did you know that there's a ghost in your upstairs hallway?"
I, of course, perked up to this statement. I did not offer my experiences - I requested that she tell me what she had seen.
She said, "He's tall and he wears black. He wears a hat and a trench coat and boots. He moves across the hallway, from the girls' room over to the bathroom."
She thought she was telling me something I didn't know. I said, "I know - I've seen him too," and went on to explain that she had perfectly described the ghost I had seen many times before.
My mother and I sat there and could not believe that we had, in fact, confirmed our sightings - without even realizing or trying. It was spectacular.
I have gone on to tell people about the ghost, but don't encourage the talk around my smaller children, as when they pick up on the idea, it sort of scares them.
About 8 years after we bought the house, we added on a new master bedroom. We also tore down some walls in our kitchen and den area and renovated our kitchen/dining room/living room area. Since that renovation, and redesigning our den, we no longer have the seating arranged in such a way that you can sit at the bottom of the stairs and look up. Because of this, I have not sighted the ghost in a long time - at least not in the hallway.
When we added the master bedroom and then moved in - I began to sense that the ghost was in our room.
There have been many nights when I will sense that there is someone sitting (I can feel the movement) at the foot of my bed. When this happens, I will bolt up in my bed, expecting to see a cat or one of my children.
There never is.
I am not afraid of our ghost, as he has never done anything other than wander. I believe he is a lost cowboy.
The neighborhood I live in is an area where Indians lived. The name of our neighborhood is named after these Indians. There are caves near our house that have been said to have drawings - left behind by those Indians.
Like I said, I am not afraid. He's a lost cowboy and I am perfectly content letting him live in the upstairs hallway of our house. I'm even okay with him sitting at the foot of my bed watching me sleep.
But ... if he decides to move again - if he gets it in his head to crawl in bed next to me ... he needs to leave his trench coat thrown across the chair and his boots on the floor.
I guess he can leave the hat on.
I'm a sucker for cowboy hats.
(I wrote this post for Suz, over at Busy Bee - she wanted to hear the story.)
If we go on a trip, I generally pick out a bunch of clothes and shoes and purses and sunglasses and makeup and jewelry ... and, if everything I pick out of my closet and drawers will FIT in my suitcases - then it goes with me.
I don't take the time to decide which 12 outfits will suit me best and which pairs of shoes will go exactly with which outfit - I just take as many as I can FIT in my suitcase and I am good to go.
I figure ... I will be happier to have some choices.
Not to be restricted to wear some ol' somthin' that is not quite right or does not fit the mood I might be in.
Nope.
PACK IT ALL - THAT IS MY MOTTO!!! IF IT FITS - IT GETS TO GO!
Nobody I know agrees with this sort of travel preparation.
My family and friends - all - think it is ridiculous and love to make fun of my over-packing tendencies.
That's okay - it doesn't bother me.
Much.
Well ...
It bothers me a little.
All the making fun.
So ...
Just imagine how happy I was ...
How thrilled ...
How proud ...
When ...
While I was packing for an upcoming vacation that my husband and I will be taking ...
Alexis - sitting on the floor nearby - watching me ever so diligently - observing - digesting lots of useful travel tips and information - LEARNING THE RITUAL ...
She sees that I am having difficulty zippering my suitcase shut.
She does not yell across the room, "Why do you need to take so much stuff?"
She does not yell across the room, "Maybe you are taking way too much stuff!"
She does not yell across the room, "Maybe you need to take some of that stuff out of there?"
Nooooooooo ....
This girl, after my own heart ...
This girl that has paid such close attention and learnt the rules and tactics and techniques passed down from her ever so intelligent and resourceful mommy ...
This six year old girl ...
She yells across the room ...
"DO YOU WANT ME TO SIT ON IT? I CAN SIT ON IT FOR YOU SO EVERYTHING WILL FIT!"
On the upside ... I looked over into my sweet girl's face and said, "Yes. You. Can! Get your little butt over here and sit on it," and she did. I was so proud - it brought tears to my eyes (*tee hee*)
I am really not the type of person that enjoys being the center of attention.
I'm not!
I'm not comfortable in the middle of a crowd.
I'm seldom the life of the party.
I avoid center stage as much as I can.
But ...
Even with these shy tendencies ...
Even with this desire to steer clear of the limelight ...
Even with this fear of drawing too much attention ...
I will sometimes ...
Go to church ...
Wearin' ...
A pair of shoes that SCREAM ...
LOOK. AT. ME!
I am a sparkly pair of shoes ...
I am gaudy ...
And glittery ...
And ...
I am ...
The exact perfect pair of shoes ...
For ...
A Queen ...
Or ...
A Movie Star ...
Or ...
A SHOW-OFF!
I am a beautiful pair of shoes ...
That ...
Should be worn with ...
A SPARKLY TIARA!!
On the upside ... I don't own a tiara. IfI did own a tiara, I would definitely be inclined to wear it with these jewel-covered shoes. It's a good thing I don't own a tiara. I'd definitely be getting way more attention with a tiara on my head ... sittin' in the front pew at church ... than I am truly com-fort-able re-ceiv-in' !
During a trip to Wal-Mart recently, my mother came along.
It was her and I and Alexis and Little Billy.
We made our way through the store, finding Birthday gifts - finding shoes for Alexis - finding cleaning supplies - finding some food.
After a while, the group of us ended up in the ladies clothing department - me with my buggy looking at t-shirts and my mother with hers near the swim wear.
I was not so far away that I missed this conversation.
My mother - talking to herself - talking to me - talking to who? - I'm not sure - she says, "A bikini. I'd like to wear a bikini again one day - before I die."
I look over and I smile (*she's obviously delusional - been on Jenny Craig for a couple of months - thinks she's taken off 30 years, I guess - along with those 30 lbs. - tee hee*)
My son, sitting on the ground - waiting for this ladies-department-browsing-to-come-to-an-end-soon - hears this bizarre comment made by his 70 year old grandmother.
I look over and notice him glance up at her and say, "Whhaa-t?"
My mother repeats this nonsense and laughs.
My son giggles almost uncontrollably and says, "I think you need to forget that idea," hoping his grandmother takes his advise seriously.
I look over at my mother - my 70 year old mother - and she has a look on her face like she is seriously insulted.
Then, my son says, "I think that would scar me for life," and he puts his face in his hands and rubs his eyes, like he's trying to rub the image off of the back side of his eyelids.
I look over at my mother and smile (*she's obviously delusional - been on Jenny Craig for a couple of months - thinks she's taken off 30 years, I guess - along with those 30 lbs - tee hee*).
On the upside ... She was serious. I know her well enough to know that - she was serious. I will do everything I can, to try to talk her out of such a mistake - but, I likely will not be successful. I can only hope that when it happens that Little Billy is not around - it could very possibly ... scar him for life. Me too - for that matter (tee hee)!
In my kitchen, behind my flour canister - lives the tiniest little spider. I know he lives there. I see him most everyday. I don't like spiders, but he doesn't bother anyone and so I let him be.
Every now and then, when I am out in my yard ... I will see a snake. I see way more snakes than I really want to see ... but, mostly they don't bother me. I watch them closely to make sure they are slithering away from me and not towards me - but, I pretty much deal with these snakes.
When I go out into our garage, occasionally, I will come across a tiny scorpion. Now ... these are those Texas scorpions - the type that will sting you and it hurts - but they won't kill you. Still ... I run for the biggest shoe I can find, return to where the scorpion was seen - search him out and SQUASH it until it is good and DEAD!
Now ... if I am walking into my kitchen or bathroom or ANYWHERE ... and I come across a ROACH - one of those HUGE TexasROACHES (water bugs, they call them) - a chill runs across the back of my neck and tickles up my skull in such a way that it feels like my hair is standing straight up in the air. I will stumble backwards or sideways or spring up from the floor towards the ceiling - nearly crawling out of my skin - to back away from the ROACH! I will never find a shoe fast enough to SQUASH the thing, but I will try ... and when I return to where it was last seen ... and it is gone, I will feel as though the nasty creature is crawling on me, in all my cupboards, beneath all our sheets and inside my shoes ... until it is seen again and I can KILL it!!
I hate MICE about as much as I hate ROACHES!
I don't see them often - thank goodness!
Sometimes, I do ...
One day recently, I was sitting at my desk.
I look up.
Standing by the door in my room is Little Billy, Alexis and my niece.
They are besides themselves with excitement.
"Close your eyes," Alexis screeches.
I do.
"You can open them now," my son says, and is now standing very close to my body.
My eyes fly open, I fly back, my chair nearly tips me on the floor - I make every attempt possible to crawl out of my skin, but can not do it, I SCREAM, "What is it ? What is it?!?"
"It's a mouse," he whispers, and he has it pinched between his fingers - standing way to close to me - RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF MY BEDROOM!!!!
I made every effort to calm myself.
"TAKE. THE. MOUSE. OUT. OF. THIS. HOUSE!" I say this loudly, but calmly - very aware that if I startle the boy that he might very well drop the creature - it will scamper away - never to be seen again.
Little Billy - pinching the mouse between his fingers - holding the mouse way out in front of his body - walks down the stairs, through the kitchen, out the back door and into the yard. When he returned into the house he explained that one of the cats had captured the mouse and they all SAVED it before the cat could eat it up - YIPPIE!!
I instructed all of these mouse-saving-kids to WASH THEIR HANDS AND PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE ... NEVER DO THAT AGAIN - EVER!
A short while later ... while I was standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes, I look over and see Little Billy heading out the back door with a fistful of Girl Scout cookies in one hand. In his other hand he has something I can not see. I say, "What do you have?"
He flings open the sliding door, looks in my direction, he says, "Cookies for me," and he crams one into his mouth. He then holds out his other hand and says, "And, a piece of cheese for the mouse," and then he is gone.
On the upside ... I don't know if he was able to find the mouse again - I only saw him run off into the woods behind our house - a pile of melting Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies in one hand, for himself, and a slice of American cheese, still in the wrapper ... FOR THE MOUSE, in the other! I couldn't help but smile. Isn't he the cutest thing? I thought, and then ... my smile turned quickly to a frown. I began to imagine him back in the woods feeding that MOUSE a melted Girl Scout Thin Mint cookie - instead of the cheese. That would mean - you know - the mouse would then follow the boy back home - you know ... If you give a mouse one Girl Scout Cookie ... then he'll want ... ANOTHER GIRL SCOUT COOKIE! (*sigh like a fat mother addicted herself to delicious Girl Scout cookies*)
I'm going to have to SQUASH that mouse - if I find him anywhere near my Girl Scout cookies - I AM!
So ... the other day ... when our yellow cat - Garfield - came home - CASTRATED ... I could not have been more pleased!
With Garfield, we open the door - let him in to eat and sleep and then let him out when he wants out and he wanders around at night and comes back when he pleases. Sometimes ... he is gone for several days at a time.
Apparently ... over the course of the past several weeks, he has been, not only, going in and out of our house to sleep and eat - but in and out of someone else's house as well - because ... his other family decided to have poor Garfield - FIXED!
Like I said ... I could not have been more pleased!
I can now cross that worry off of my to-do list - YIPPIE!
Along with the shots - as I have to assume his other family probably got those for him as well - took care of all of it while he was in for the snip-snip operation.
My kids were not at all pleased.
They were quite distressed.
"He's our cat," they all screamed, upon hearing (and seeing) the news. "We need to get a collar and put a tag on it that says 'This is Garfield and he HAS A HOME - SEND HIM BACK HOME.'" They were not happy - at all.
I tried to explain to these kids that this was a good thing - how the other family was there to also take care of him if he wandered by and all - how the other family could be the one to continue to take care of the veterinary bills - all good!
But, they didn't want to hear any of it.
On the upside ... We honestly believed that he had come back - trying to maybe get away from the other family that had done this to him, but ... he's gone again. And ... just for the record - when he comes back again - and he will - I AM NOT BUYING THAT CAT A COLLAR! This is the pefect arrangement as far as I am concerned.
I usually walk around my house in a pair of white socks.
In the summer I walk around bare-footed, and that includes when I am outside - sometimes I slip on a pair of rubber flip-flops.
I go to the grocery store.
I go to the dollar store.
Occasionally, I go shopping at discount stores like Marshalls, Big Lots, Ross, Target or Wal-Mart.
I go to PTA meetings and sometimes volunteer at my childrens' schools.
I go to an occasional movie or out to dinner with my family.
I go to church.
I go to the lake.
I go on the occasional vacation.
WHERE DO I POSSIBLY THINK ....... I WILL EVER WEAR ALL OF THESE SHOES?
I don't actually know how many shoes I have, but .... these aren't even all of them. There are probably another 40 pairs you can't even see in these picutres.
Now ... if you were to ask me - "Do you like to buy shoes - are you a SHOE NUT?" I would say, "No, not really." And it would be true. I don't gravitate to shoes or search out shoes. I buy shoes - OBVIOUSLY - but shoes are not my fetish (believe it or not).
I do not have any clue how I have accumulated all of these shoes - someone that is not necessarily a SHOE NUT!
IMAGINE IF I REALLY WAS A SHOE NUT!!
On the upside ... You know those people that hoard cats - you know - have 50 or 100 cats all living in their house? I guess I'm like that. Luckily there are no "Shoe Police" going to come to my house and box up and take all these shoes from me - you never know - I might need these shoes. I DO need these shoes - else, why would I have all these shoes? (*shrinks back into her dark closet like a creepy shoe hoarder*).
The woman - what sounds like a soft, computer generated voice - says, "Do you have a - deer in your pool?"
My mind says, Well that's odd, but my mouth answers, "Why yes we do," in response to this survey question, because ... WE DID HAVE A DEER IN OUR POOL!
I say, "Who is this?" and my friend - we'll call her Fifi - says, "It's me - Fifi." I laugh out loud.
I explain that I found it strange - that a survey company would be calling my house - asking this odd question - but, I could have sworn when I heard her voice that it sounded so smooth - so strangely computer-like. I told her I half expected her to continue by asking, "What do you plan on doing about that?" or some other question, in a very survey-like manner.
We could not stop laughing.
Yes ... there was a deer in our pool!
Poor thing ... wandered into our yard and I guess - fell into the pool and drowned. It did have two of it's legs pretty scratched or chewed up - some coyote could have gotten to it and in trying to escape, it fell into the pool and died. We really don't know.
When my children brought the dead deer to my attention and all 5 of us were standing around the pool looking at the poor thing, my son asked, "How are you going to get it out?"
I, of course, said, "I. Am. Not. The. One. Getting. The. Deer. Out. Of. The. Pool," to my curious son. I went on to explain, "Daddy will handle it when he gets home."
My son looked surprised and looked at me and said, "Daddy?" like that would be impossible. Like he was imagining that we would call someone - the people that did this sort of thing - the people that would come to our house to get the deer out of the pool.
I laughed and said, "Yes, Daddy. It is definitely a "boy's" job."
"How will he do it?"
Walking away, back towards the house, I said, "I don't know. I guess he'll just get a rope and lasso it - pull it out. He's a Texas boy - he'll know what to do."
My son, still standing beside the pool, staring at the poor dead deer said, "I can't wait to see this."
On the upside ... He did. He lassoed it. Put it in a wheelbarrow, wheeled it across the road, took it into the woods - and dumped it. I guess that's how they handle this sort of thing - Texas boys. My son was right by his daddy's side - learning the ropes..
My laptop was in front of me, my TV was on ... I had a bag of GHIRARDELLI chocolates in my lap.
I opened the bag slowly and reached my hand inside.
I pulled out a chocolate square and was thinking, I can't wait to eat this chocolate. This chocolate is going to be simply delicious - I can't wait to eat this chocolate. Yum, yum, yum, yum, yum ......
When, suddenly ---- at that very same moment that I was about to tear the shiney wrapper from my chocolate square, on the TV ----- came a GHIRARDELLI commercial!
What are the odds of that?
It was wild and crazy and I can now mark it down as one of those weird little moments in my life.
I know ... not really so phenomenal, but it was a moment.
I haven't honestly had too many of those sorts of weird moments in my life - not that stand out - you know.
Once ... my sister and I were shopping together. We walked up to the cash register to check out and she began to talk to the cashier about how I had this whole basket full of stuff, but that somehow, my bill would end up being far less than hers - because I am such a frugal shopper, yada, yada, yada. When the cashier rang up my sister's bill, she stood in front of me with her bagged goods and waited for my stuff to be rung up. When the cashier hit the total button on her register - OUR BILLS WERE EXACTLY THE SAME TOTAL!!!
Another - weird moment - but not earth-shattering or life changing by any stretch of the imagination.
When I was pregnant with my twins - on the morning that I was to go to the doctor (at 4 months) for a sonogram, my husband and I went first to meet with our accountant in her office. I made the statement to our accountant, "If I am right - that I am going to have twins - then we will have two additional deductions on our taxes next year." When we left the accountant's office, I called my mother and asked her to meet us at the doctor's office. I had a feeling that she would want to be there - when the technician was going to announce that she was going to be the grandmother of twins. My mother came. When I was lying on the table in that dark room, my mother stood by my side and rambled on and on to the technician that everyone was always teasing me that I was so big and wouldn't it be really crazy if Kellan were going to have twins and ... just about that time, the technician moved her scanner over my belly, looked my mother in the face and said, "Well ... there are two babies." My mother cried.
Now ... that was a CRAZY moment and ... a LIFE CHANGING moment!
One of the most fabulous and thrilling LIFE CHANGING moments of my life!
Life is definitely like a bag of GHIRARDELLI chocolates ..... each little bit is a moment wrapped in a splendid shiney wrapper and the treat inside has the possibility of being .... SIMPLY DELICIOUS!
Happy Valentine's Day to my sweet children - to my darling husband - to my wonderful family and friends. I love you all very much!
And ... Happy Valentine's Day to all my blogging friends. Our journey together has been just like a piece of chocolate - simply delightful!!
I was sitting at my vanity in my underwear, putting in my contacts, curling my hair and putting on my make-up.
I was there for a bit, not totally enjoying the view of my semi-naked figure in the mirror, but just had to divert my eyes so I could get the business done - I had to be at Alexis' school in 30 minutes.
I finished my primping, put away my curling iron, hairspray and make-up and stood up.
This is when the real horror hit me.
It wasn't the view in the mirror in front of me - while that is always quite shocking - especially early in the morning - it was ... when I looked down at my legs.
I have had these legs for a lot of years.
I have relied on these legs. I have depended on these legs. I have shown much respect for these legs ... for many, many years.
It's like - I am the CEO of a Fortune 500 Company (*my life*) and when I have a job that needs to be done and I search out the most valuable person on the team, the most dependable, the most experienced - the best - and then I choose you (*my legs*) to do that job ... it's like that! They are my go-to-guys - I always choose them first. I've been very partial and ... very partial.
So ... WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO MY LEGS?
They still do the job - they walk me where I need to go - that's good. They still fill the pants okay - I have lots of pants and they are doing a great job there. They don't complain that they don't get shaved as often as they did in my youth - that's a plus. They still hang onto my feet and stay attached to my aging hips - that's a relief.
But ...
THE SKIN IS DROOPING - ON MY LEGS!
Not on my chest, so much. Not on my arms, so much. Not anywhere, so much ... but on the upper parts of my legs - just above my knees - DROOPY SKIN - like the hyde is sliding ... or something.
I could not stand there in my bathroom, bent at the waist, staring at this pitiful sight any longer - I had to get to my daughter's school. All I could do was shake my head in disappointment.
On the upside ... Someone obviously came into my Fortune 500 Company and strutted off with my once beautiful, youthful looking legs and left me with DROOPY replacements. I'm not happy that Personnel failed to notify me of this change - but, as long as these old-lady legs continue to get my DROOPY BUTT to all the places I need to go - I guess I'll have to appreciate them - but ..... I. Am. Not. Happy. About. It!
