Alpine Art Walk

As I sat on the steps of the Brewster County Courthouse whittling away at my time, the autumn breeze rustled the golden yellow leaves of the Cottonwoods and dispatched the fragrance of outdoor cuisine quaffing up from the street vendor’s booths. A parade of art cars that you wouldn’t find on exhibit at “du Louvre” meandered down the main drag amidst the “oohs” and “aahs” of the crowd (my favorite was the giant “cockroach” car). The streets filled with the music of Matt Skinner’s Walk’n, Talk’n, Fingerpick’n …while Ray Wylie Hubbard had us “up against the wall”. It was a weekend of smelling the leather at the Big Bend Saddlery, ingesting burgers at Alicia’s Burrito Palace and stargazing at the McDonald Observatory. It was the Marfa lights, the blown-out tires, the adobe Church at Ruidosa on the Rio Grande and the drive down Pinto Canyon Road. I am now confident that my wife’s new Camry and I are ready for the Paris-Dakar 2011 Rally. The moonset at sunrise in Lajitas, the home-make music and the austere beauty of the Big Bend Park was magnificent. The fact that it was all enjoyed with friends will not soon be forgotten.
Thanks to our hosts, the tall lanky cowboy and his stunning wife…their hospitality would make any outsider fit right in. Thank you for inviting us, taking us into your home and feeding us; a rowdy bunch of college kids on the verge of retirement.

There is no place like Alpine
The air is fresh, the weather fine
The mountain views they are sublime
I hope to visit one more time.

Up and down the city sidewalk
Cluttered with drawings of charcoal and chalk
Photos and paintings are the big squawk
November is the time for the Alpine Art-Walk.

And so I am blessed with all of the best
But having good friends is the test
Then there is no need for all of the rest
And so it is...out there in the West.

Amen

Tofurkey Day?

Thanksgiving is a one of my favorite holidays. I totally enjoy the family gathering together for a meal…a meal at my mother-in-law’s house. She has become the focal point. At the age of 103 she still lives at home…her house is the gathering place for the entire family and any homeless folks you might care to invite…all are welcome. Most everyone brings a dish, a dessert or a delectable treat. While I am not a professional eater, I do feel like an “Olympic class” amateur who is constantly training for just such an event. My strategy is to start with the pies first…making sure I test each and every one…I would not want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Then on to the main course…again making sure to try all the different entrées and side dishes. This year a “Tofurkey” stuffed with wild rice in the most attractive presentation found it’s way onto the menu. While I’ve never had any vegan tendencies…my curiosity peeked at the thought of anything made from tofu tasting like food. I feel that I have matured a bit in my eating habits…it no longer bothers me that the peas touch the mash potatoes… I’ve decided it is all going to the same place. But the Tofurkey…what can I say…to put it politely there was no need to go back for seconds. I’m quite sure I will never be a vegetarian. While I enjoy many vegetables I can’t see banning all foods that have or have had eyes from my diet. Bacon, burgers, butter and bread, especially white bread, are essentials and a necessary food group.

Thank you Lord Jesus,
You know how to please us.
For the family and friends,
And all of the grins.

At One hundred and three
She is amazing you see.
For how can it be
Such a blessing to me?

Thank you so much
For your loving touch
For all the malarkey
And even Tofurkey

Amen.

Technically Frustrated

Dear Diary;
I am literarily, metaphorically and technically Frustrated. Wave after wave of the latest technology washes over me as I struggled to catch my breath. I cannot get my antiquated PDA/smart phone to scroll and therefore perform any application. I am awash in a sea of three and four “G” know-how, drowning in a deluge of high tech gadgets that I have no idea how to operate and do not want to learn. I am ready to throw in the towel along with my dingle berry of a Blackberry. Following numerous doctoring of the little mouse ball with alcohol and no success…it appeared the little mouse was sick and would not recover.

Then I remembering what grandson Cameron taught me, I “Googled” it. I typed in "how do I clean my Blackberry mouse ball". Bingo…there it was… instruction illustrated with pictures.

I pried off the retaining ring with my pocketknife and exposed the tiny directional rollers, which were impacted with a six-month supply of belly button fuzz. My wife’s toothbrush was the perfect tool suited to the task. I brushed and cleaned everything until it was shiny new…snapped it back together and “voila”

“Life is good, God is great and people are crazy.”
Amen.

Note to self:
I must remember to put her toothbrush back.

Fall Days

It was another gorgeous fall day, and now the sun was low and the shadows were long as I drug myself, pick axe and shovel back to the house. It had been a physically exhausting day of digging…digging up an electronic probe for a customer’s automatic gate opener. I should have known that I was out of shape…just this morning I had to come up twice for air as I tie my bootlaces. I enjoyed the physical activity for the first few hours but, after not finding “the treasure”, the fun wore off. I commandeered a backhoe and effortlessly dredged up the defective item…in no time.

Thank you, Lord Jesus,

For a beautiful day spent outdoors,
A perfect place to do my chores.
I must admit it underscores,
A sharp contrast to when it pours.

For holes to dig, it never bores,
A few blisters here and muscle sores.
I won't complain or make those roars,
On days like these my spirit soars.

Amen.

White Bread

Yesterday my wife brought home a loaf of white bread. Communications being what they are… I assumed it was to eat and immediately tore into it. Little did I know it was to make little sandwiches…finger sandwiches with the crust cut off...sandwiches for her high tea women’s club meeting.

When I was a child my mother always bought white bread. It was the thing…it was the rage. Maybe it was the only type of store-bought bread available. White flour was what everyone wanted…refined white bread, refined white flour. Who knew the refining process got rid of all the good stuff. I grew up on white bread and loved it…good stuff or not. Bologna on white bread, PB&J on white, pimento cheese on white, whatever on white was the standard of the day. Childhood was great, in spite of all warnings, you could run with a pair of scissors and not put your eye out, fall from tall trees without breaking your neck and eat white bread to your hearts content without dying…those were the days. But now it’s different…we know better. My wife being the kind, caring person she is will not allow me to eat white bread because it’s bad for me. Well, apparently she does not care as much for her “high tea” buddies.


Thank you Lord,
For a caring wife,
Sometime it’s hard,
And full of strife.

But this I know,
About this waif,
When it’s time to go,
You will keep me safe.
Amen.

Pedaling The Pyrenees

I could feel the burning muscles in my thighs as I exhaled another breath laden with moisture. Cresting the last hill...with most of the kilometers behind me…I visualized the finish line and donning the yellow jersey. Reaching my destination I put aside the Tour de France daydream, went inside and took up my usual seat in the last pew. The physical exercise of riding the bike to church gets my blood flowing and makes me more alert for the spiritual exercise. It’s unfortunate I don’t take my exercise more seriously...for it seems I am developing a midriff bulge…both body and soul.

Thank you Lord Jesus,

For the legs that can pedal,
For a mind that can meddle,
For the words that I pen,
So I thank you again.

The yellow jersey I may not win,
For my goal is to be your friend.
Crossing your finish line is a must,
So I will not be left in the dust.

Amen.

Winter Texan

A cold drizzle and a sharp north wind make the gray overcast day seem as if I were back in Alaska. I went to the armoire and withdrew my favorite plaid flannel shirt…the same shirt that makes my wife role her eyes in disgust. Like an old friend it comforts me…I would wear it on all occasions if not for the moaning and groaning of the one who has impeccable taste. But on cold days…when we will not be seen together, in public…I am allowed to indulge my fetish. I am a winter Texan at heart but stuck here year-round. So when cooler weather comes I get excited and dream of Alaska, Campbell’s soup and hot chocolate.

Today’s gospel reminds me that we all have our crosses and I must take up mine and follow if I am going to be counted as a disciple.

“Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple”.
Luke 14:27


Thank you Lord Jesus;

For letting me carry such a small cross,
Not to follow would be my loss.
While Texas heat may be intense,
I know your words you do not mince.

A tiny cross though it may be…but yet…
A reminder of just how hot things could get.
The Texas summer is a trivial cross,
And I am so glad you are the boss.

Amen

One Of Those Days

It was one of those days…one of those mornings when the sun’s rays danced and glistened off the propeller as it spun…it spun in a crystal clear blue sky. I pushed the black throttle knob forward and unconsciously pressed the right rudder to keep the alignment straight down the runway. As the air speed wound up I pulled back on the stick and climbed into the cold dense morning air at 2,000 feet per minute, pegging the VSI. At 5,000 feet I relaxed on the controls and let the nose settle back to the horizon then watched the airspeed build up to the top of the green. The visibility was unrestricted and the view was unbelievable. I could see the patchwork landscape of greens and browns in all directions…I could see until it disappeared beyond the curvature of the earth. At almost a mile up the world looks so peaceful and serene. What a shame that it really isn’t that way with all the bickering and fighting. We need a Jonah to come and warn us to straighten up. But then again we need to be like the people of Nineveh and listen. Even their king listened. Apparently most of us do not want to listen…least of all our “king”.

There is nothing like tearing up the sky on a cold, calm, clear day when all is right with the world. Too bad the whole world isn’t right with God. Too bad I can’t stay up here all day.

Dear Jesus,
I could fly way up so high, in a clear unclouded sky.
Such a notion excites the emotion, and makes me want to try.
If the price of fuel were not so cruel, this dream I would pursue.
But it is not me that can clearly see; it is You that makes the view.

Woe is me, who tends to flee your each and every decree.
Your only goal is not to scold, but remind a forgetful me.
It’s time to flee evil’s plea; it’s time to take a knee.
For you my Lord are the only one I really need to see.
Amen.

“It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes
men as angels.” Saint Augustine

On Marriage

Yesterday was one of those challenging days...although I can't remember exactly what the heated discussion was about…it escalated into a very uncomfortable situation. For some reason I was unable to communicate my point of view and it lead to a total meltdown in the exchange of logical ideas. It turned into a hissing contest. Meooooow! She can be such a pain in my “beast of burden”.

I had to stop and think. I tried to remember, to recall why...just why I did get married? What was I thinking? Was I thinking with my brain or some other not so vital organ? There is a lot of give and take in a marriage but you have to be prepared to do all of the giving... or so it seems. I have learned (the hard way) it is best to just keep your mouth shut and let the plan unfold.

In hindsight I realize it was God using her and leading me through those dark days when my thinking was clouded with testosterone. He paired me with the right wife. He gave me a wife who has been my moral compass and guiding light. She has kept me on the straight and narrow even when I did not want to be. She has integrity, sincerity, and honesty. She is a loving, kind and caring person who has never met a stranger. For the most part she is even-tempered and steady, not given to emotional outbreaks. She is the most normal person I know. All in all it has turned out very well.

I need to be a little more patient, show a little more kindness and look at the big picture.

“The man who finds a good wife finds a treasure, and he receives favor from the LORD”
Proverbs 18:22


Lord Jesus,
Thank you for a good wife,
Thank you for a treasure,
And thank you for good life,
It's more than I can measure.

Thanks for the one you sent,
My words cannot explain,
To me, what she has meant,
For this blessing I must exclaim.

Amen.

The Texas Mile

In my youth I always harbored an interest in “scary fast” cars and airplanes. So I decided to spend a day with my son and grandson doing something we might all enjoy. It was an amazing day of meandering though the pits, looking at and drooling over the fantastic assortment of vehicles. We visited the start line and then made our way down to the finish line. Just as we reached the end of the one mile course…right before our eye we all stood there watching a beautiful Lamborghini cross the finish line, pop his parachute and become air born. My son describes it best in his words.

“duuuuuuude!!
you would not even believe what we saw if I told you! have you ever seen a Lambo Giallardo?
have you ever seen one pull a "dukes of hazzard" at 235mph..............FREAKING AWESOME!!!!!!!!
$350,000 for a brand new Lamborghini
$100,000 in race and performance modifications
$5,000 matching fire retardant race suit/ shoes/ helmet
$2,000 food and drink
launching your car 20 feet in the air at 235 mph...........priceless
MASTERCARD...........”

How any one could survive that crash is nothing short of a miracle.
Thank you, Lord Jesus, that no one was injured and for an exciting day spent with my kids.
Amen.