The Crazy Drive Home

I giggled all the way home from work today. 
More on that in a minute.

I don't think I'm unique in this area, so I'm going to risk revealing the deeper depths of my kookiness. The 15 minutes it takes me to get home from school have the potential to be the most insane minutes of my day.  Something about getting into the quiet of my car starts the mental replay of the day's events, accomplishments, conversations, troubles, etc.  Now if things go OK during the day, it's not a problem.  However, the days when things don't go so well...when there's trouble...when there's conflict...
the recording in my head starts playing the minute I get into the car.  It repeats and repeats and repeats and I can't find the stop button.

There is one thing that's helped me when I'm in that mindset.  I narrate my drive home.  I concentrate on the drive and think only of each moment and it ends up sounding something like this:

"I'm stopping at the stop sign.  I'm waiting for my turn.  I'm turning left.  I'm passing a Sonic.  I'm staying at 35 mph because I'm driving on Boulevard.  I'm slowing down for the car in front of me.  I'm reading a marque."

And on it goes until I pull into my garage.  Some people might consider my method to fight the crazy thinking a bit crazy in itself.  I'm OK with that because it's saved me from quite a few distressing drives home. 

Good news, though.  I think I may have found another method to fight my madness in this group of first graders I'm hanging out with every day. They just might provide me with enough material so that I won't have to narrate my drives home.  These kids are fun.  They're clever.  They're charming my socks off.

So today I giggled all the way home. 

I thought of the sweet girly-girl who greets me regularly in the morning with head to toe compliments. 
"I like you hair.  I like you earrings.  I like your necklace.  I like your shirt.  I like your skirt.  I like you sandals.  I like your toenail polish."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, and thank you."

And I thought of the boy who insists he's growing a mustache.  "I can feel it," he says as he lightly rubs his fingers across his upper lip. 

Then there's the mini-me, the teacher-to-be who is compelled to keep me informed of things going with the rest of the class.  "Those two girls are talking again,"  she whispers to me.  "Shall we separate them?"

Thanks kids - thanks for the laughs.

Garden Inventory

I think I'm safe in declaring that summer is over.  No more heat.  That's so nice because this has been the most miserable summer of my existence.  Weather wise at least.
Social wise...it was a great summer.  Spent a lot of time with good friends, read a lot of good books, took a little trip, went to a reunion...

Here's the group picture from the reunion.  This is a group of about a dozen families that get together every two years at a resort near Gore, Oklahoma.  It's been going on since the mid-80's.  Isn't that cool?   We have three generations at this point. 

But what I'll remember most about this summer is the heat and my suffering gardens.  Over sixty days of triple digit temperatures took a deathly toll on them.  I read in my daily newspaper's garden column that once temperatures reach 95, most plants go into survival mode.  All the energy goes into not dying.  No growth.  No showy blooms.  Just not dying.

I've taken an inventory of my gardens and broken the plants down into three categories:

1.  Plants that died.

• everything in my new sun bed, which surprised me because I used plants that had been successful in my old sun bed - gaillardia, verbena, artemisia, lavender.  Those usually can take anything Oklahoma summers dish out.
• the rhododendron in my new experimental pergola garden.  I learned practically nothing from my experimental pergola garden because results were all skewed by the extreme heat and the early summer invasion of munching bunny rabbits.
• three coral bells
• two asters
• and a partridge in a pear tree

2.  Plants that survived, but look pitiful.

• a few hostas
• two coral bells
• phlox
• lenten rose
• hydrangeas
• rose bushes

3.  Plants that didn't seem to be affected by the heat
     and drought at all.

• my new climbers in my experimental pergola garden.  The Carolina jasmine and the clematis look great.
• red twig dogwood - thank goodness.  I love this shrub and would have cried big tears if it had died.  It's growing like crazy right now.
• a few hostas
• ornamental grasses

I'm looking for the life lessons in this summer's gardens.  They're there.  I know it.  They just haven't revealed themselves to me yet.  Gardening always teaches me great spiritual truths and once I find the lessons from this gardening season, I won't have to count it as a miserable failure.

Slan Leat, Mo Caraid

The title of this post is Gaelic for "Goodbye, My Friend".  My sweet friend, Hal, passed away this week.  I will miss him.

Hal and I shared an enthusiasm for fiction.  A few years ago, when the whole nation seemed to be reading the Twilight books, I suggested he try them out.  He enjoyed them quite a bit.  Then he returned the favor by recommending Outlander to me.  That series quickly became a favorite of mine.  We got to enjoy those eight books together.  It's sad to think that we won't get to read the next installment in the series together. 
Anyone who reads Outlander books learns a good bit of Gaelic in the process and more Scottish idioms than you ever thought you needed.  The characters switch from English to Gaelic from time to time, especially when they are moved by very strong emotions.  Hal and I tried some of those Gaelic phrases out on each other.  It sounded really bad, so we reverted back to our native Okie-speak. 

But... I think... since I'm moved by very strong emotions, I'll try out the Gaelic again, in memory of Hal.

On being a Cowboy fan

Just two days away from the start of my favorite time of year - football season.  My team is OSU.  That's where I went to school.  My friend, Kim, and I have had season tickets for years - going back to the 90's when Bob Simmons was coach. 

Kim and I have been friends since college.  We were roommates for one year in Stillwater and for a time in Dallas.  But the longevity of our friendship isn't what has unified and solidified us.  No.  We're tight because we've gone through so many football seasons together.  You can't be a lone Cowboy fan.  You have to have support because it's too often not easy.  It's painful.  It breaks your heart.  You lean on your friends.  This year expectations for our team are high.  But all the talk and speculation about how good our team will be this season is worthless.  Only time will tell.  But I do know that Kim and I will be there for each other, win or lose.

I met someone new not too long ago.  I don't recall exactly how the conversation moved along, but at some point it came up that I was an OSU fan.  The guy said to me, "Aww...that's too bad."
I just smiled and changed the subject knowing that he was merely trying to be funny and really didn't mean anything bad by it.  Poor thing.  He just didn't know any better. 
Anyway - here is a little advice for people who want to make friends with this Cowboy fan.  Sadly these tips all come from past personal experience.

• don't ask me if I have all my teeth.
• don't quiz me to see how high I can count.
• don't assume that I'm interested in talking about the Cowboys all the live-long day.  I have many interests like baking, gardening, reading, music, movies, teaching, etc.  When I die, I hope that being an OSU fan is way far down on the list of things people remember about me.

Happy football season.  ORANGE POWER!