Nostalgia's Not What It Used To Be

 

Nostalgia, it's not nearly as awesome as it used to be. Very punny. Yet, recently I took a trip in my time machine back to 1963 and drove by the home I was raised in from 0 years old to 9th grade (approx). Good ole Lawler Rd in Garland, Tx. With no kids in my time machine asking if we are there yet, I was able to take my time and peek into the world of what-used-to-be. Somehow, I was convinced that there's no way the old neighborhood I grew up in would still be there. It's well over 50 years old, and I was certain it had been demolished. I just knew it. There's no way those houses are still there and I wonder what is there now?

Guess what! Those houses are still there, people are living in them, and they look great.

I think it used to be red bricked. Looks good painted!

I remember many things about living on Lawler Rd in Garland. Like walking up to the elementary school when you could actually walk to school and it's what people did. That, or biked. There was no school line for drop off. We walked to school and did so with friends. Boys pulled the girls bra straps on their backs and popped them and would laugh and laugh. The girls felt like that was a sign that a particular boy liked her. Somehow this was okay. We did not carry big backpacks because all the textbooks were kept at school most of the time. We had encyclopedia's at the house to use for research. We felt very extravagant to have them at the house, and I still remember the encyclopedia salesman ringing the doorbell and coming into our home. The salesman would be dressed in a suit and tie carrying a hard sided briefcase full of brochures and examples of his product. My mom and dad would sit at the kitchen table and listen to his spill. Sometimes, he would go get different books from his car to bring in and show other examples. I was always struck by how much he had to carry around in his car, like the resource dept in a library, just on-wheels. I only remember having 2 sets, well maybe 3 sets over the years, and remember how updated each set would be from the last. I'd sit on the floor and flip through the new set, trying to find my favorite pictures and topics, to see if they were still there and if they changed any. I don't think door to door encyclopedia salesman is an occupation any more. 

I remember feeling like there were a few special houses in the neighborhood that had huge backyards due to their location in the neighborhood. Ours was one of those. It felt like our backyard was as big as a football field. We even had soccer practice held regularly in the backity far back of our backyard for whatever team we were on at the time. Usually Dad was Coach, so it made sense and there was lots of room for drills. There was a chain link fence around the entire thing. In the part of the backyard closer to the house, Dad would plant any kind of fruit tree imaginable. It felt a bit like an orchard. Peach trees, fig trees (lots of fig trees), pear trees along with grapevines and rose bushes. I remember picking figs and peaches from the trees, putting them in paper grocery bags (no such thing as plastic grocery bags yet) and my sisters and I would sit out front and sell the bags of fruit for cheap. Our house was on the corner of Lawler Rd and Plano Rd and since Plano Rd was considered a big road and had more traffic, we always had lots of buyers for the fresh fruit. 

Hard to realize that was the big backyard 
with a chain link fence around it.

Now though, that big backyard has a church built on it, that actually attaches to my old house with an awning. I'm not sure how zoning works for that, but they did it. It had a sign that said Good News Church. They even had a church van, too. So instead of a back yard, there's now a church behind the house I grew up in. I would never had guessed that. I mean, after all, I didn't even know if the houses were still going to be there.....much less a church in the back yard. That gives the ole saying 'cash me outback how bout dah' a whole new meaning. 

Forestridge Elementary, where it all started

Ahhh, the days of walking to school. Picking up friends along the way at their houses. First, Angie Vervalin. Then, Debbie Milliken and sometimes Beth Turner. Beth Turner's dad worked for Dr Pepper, and had an actual Dr Pepper soda machine in their kitchen just like at the 7-11. I thought they were rich. When we got to the school, we would not go inside. We lined up. We waited in line until we were allowed to go inside the school. We would line up either by grade or by teacher, but I assure you we were well instructed on where and how to line up. Some teacher or someone in charge had a whistle and would blow it like a lifeguard at the pool to keep all the children in line. A whistle was respected. Once a person of authority had to raise their voice, everyone was in do-do trouble. And the troublemakers were well known, because as little boys and girls we were expected to 'be good and do as we were told'. Looking back, those troublemakers were probably the smartest ones of all. They pushed back against authority who told them to line up and be like everyone else. Not everyone wants to be put in a box, and there were always those who were the real rebels in life. Too bad they were looked upon as troublemakers rather than creative thinkers just trying to live their own life. They were not to be stifled. They held strong and were constantly reprimanded by the teachers for not listening and behaving. The troublemakers did not care though. They are probably the CEO of Amazon or founders of budding startups now. Go them.

The joys of junior high

Then the awkward days began. Jr high. Ugh. I'm having flashbacks just thinking about it. Everyone was in the process of 'becoming' who they were to be, and junior high is not a kind place to be when you're becoming yourself. To make things worse, there were the golden ones to remind you just how awkward you were. The golden ones were not like all the others. They were already on top of their game at such a young age. Most of the junior high was convinced that the golden ones were already having sex, too. I remember that being a topic at the lunch table. Yes, in junior high. I mean, everyone knew who was golden. It was obvious. But most of us were un-golden. We were the ones who were between trying-to-grow-up and trying-to-be-grown-up and forever fumbling while doing so. I was never so glad to get out of junior high and go to high school. Junior high was just a hard time in life. Still is actually, but we call them middle schoolers now. Stay awkward you guys. You'll get there. Luckily, most of us escape middle school to be ridiculed some more in high school. It's just not as bad there, and you've increased your coping skills enough to handle it all a little better.

Luckily, I did get to leave good ole Liberty Junior High and that's when we also left our house on Lawler Rd. We would be moving to a much bigger house on Longbow Dr in Garland. 

I remember my dad planting these crêpe myrtles.

No more Angie, Debbie or Beth just down the street anymore. No more walking to school, as we had continued to walk to junior high every day, as we had elementary school. The move to Longbow Dr would be at a time when I was entering 9th grade (which was high school then). I would make new friends in the area, have a room to myself, fight with my sisters more about clothes and things. Lots of new things happening and I was still just trying to navigate life. Oddly, I had a pet dove in my room who coo'd all the time, and I always wanted pets. So many pets please. Mom said No. She said she already had enough people to take care of and was a strong women who could put her foot down. You could try to argue your case, but you'd likely end up grounded. Oh yeah, grounded. That was the story of my life in high school. I was always grounded. In my room. Grounded for a week. For a weekend. For like 4 years straight in high school. Looking back, I think that was my mom's way of keeping us safe and keeping an close eye on us. We were forever grounded. I got so sick of being grounded that I ran away, and when I came back (the next day) I was forever grounded again. I threw in the towel and waited out time to go to college. My mom was probably just as excited when I left for college. No more keeping track of me. At college, my mom and dad would call me on Sundays at the same time each week after church. No cellphones of course. They would find out a weekly check if I was still alive and well. After all, it was a long distance call and charged as such, so we spoke briefly to keep the costs down.

I did not take a photo of the high school I attended, Berkner High School. There, I was part of the fighting Ram Band, a BQ as it was called back then. We were proud, too. I was in the Drum Corp and that - along with advanced math classes (because in math there is always a way to find the answer) I remained sane enough to make it through and head to Texas A&M from there. Let's just say that it took a long time for me to grow up and I'm still working on it today. I'll leave it at that. The good news in all this was that the exception to being grounded was that I could still go to band practice - and school. So there was that. 

As I drove around the Garland area, I remembered my mom wanting us to live in Garland but go to Richardson schools. And somehow she found the neighborhoods whereby we could do that. At the time, Garland schools had a passing grade of 60, and Richardson had a higher standard of a passing grade of 70. I think my mom felt like having us in Richardson schools would somehow help us push ourselves more because the grade scale was harder there. Regardless, us 3 red-headed girls never would really need to worry much about getting a 60 or 70 in any class anyway because we would probably lose our lives if that happened. 

When I arrived back home in my time machine, I realized how nervous I had been about going back to my old neighborhood(s) I grew up in. Garland is not all that far from where I live anyway. I have just never made the trek there since I can remember. While driving there, I felt tension and nervousness in my body. What would it be like? How would I feel? Turns out, it would be comforting. And I would feel that I was glad I went. Everything's changed around there now. New businesses, although I did see Steve Hendrick's dads Donut Shop still there. I don't think he's still running it though. So many new food and grocery store options. I could see how someone would like living there. It's nice there. Despite the fact I was convinced it would somehow be gone. It was there. It was thriving - and it was a wonderful trip down Nostalgia Lane. I'd do it again. I don't think I will wait so long to go back next time. Turns out, nostalgia's what it used to be.

Hogwash

Because I can, I thought it would be a good idea to get a couple of mini piglets. 

Magnolia and Priscilla 

Why, you ask? That's the most common question I've gotten lately. It all stemmed from a conversation with a friend who was rehoming quite a few of her farm animals, and said to me, "I'm definitely going to keep my pigs though". Really now. She's keeping her pigs. That one comment made a huge impression on me and I sat on it for quite some time. Then, a visit to Craigslist showed me a couple of piglets calling my name. One who happened to be a black 6 week old mini pig in Van Alstyne. David was in Houston at MD Anderson having his scans completed and seeing doctors. I was buying piglets. 

Prissy

Initially I named her Rebecca. Turns out David preferred to name her Priscilla. Prissy for short. Done. She's tiny but mighty. Don't let her size fool you. And pigs are smart. They are like dogs. They can come when called, learn their name and get the zoomies. Who knew.

When I went to get Prissy's roommate the next day in Sherman, turns out she’s 6 months old. The size difference was incredible. 

Maggie

David named her Magnolia, Maggie for short. Yes, he named them while he was in Houston. It seemed like the fair thing to do. I buy them, he names them. Prissy and Maggie. 

She’s a typical little sister 

Turns out Prissy was SO excited to see Maggie. And they do very well together, sharing food and snuggles. 

Prissy instantly loved Maggie and they have been partners in crime since. Did I mention how smart they are? They have a piggy salad in the mornings, and their pig grain in the evenings. Currently, they are in a fenced area, but eventually, I'd like to let them free range like we do with the chickens (once they get a little bigger) and then pen them at night. We'll see what happens. This is all so new. I mean, when I pick one of them up they cry and squeal like I was gonna have them for dinner. Turns out pigs don't like to be held. It's something they would have to get used to it and you can practice it with them. Ultimately, I don’t think pigs are held as adults. But I’m still new to this pig thing. 

He’s not completely convinced about this.

So far so good on the pig front. They make a wonderful addition around here. They are easy. And Easy St is one of my favorite places to be when it comes to farm animals. And baby farm animals are the best.

MDA and I don't mean the telethon

'Member that?! Jerry Lewis and the MDA telethon each year? As fun as that is to reminisce, I'm actually speaking about David's recent return to MD Anderson in Houston. Living scan to scan is life with cancer. It's what we do. David is scan to scan and I'm actually lab to lab. Either way, we both had our oncologist visits, scans and labs. 

I'll start with David. He had his usual 2-3 month PET scan and MRI. Then, he sees his radiation and chemo oncologist and medical oncologist as well. They read his scans and reviewed his labs. They help him with his side effects that linger from cancer treatment. They discuss options for his thyroid damage from radiation. They review his sinuses and thickening of the lining that has occurred. They are there to guide, review, and assist in David's ongoing cancer journey. SNUC will sneak up on you if you're not looking. Turns out, David's PET showed a clear scan. We are elated! Thank you, God. They remind us that micro particles do not show on scans, so we must keep doing the PET and MRI's every 2-3 months. And he will, no problem. For now though, another visit completed and moving on with life again. Hip Hip Hooray! We try hard not to take this for granted. It feels good.

Then it was my turn. I had my usual labs and visited with my oncologist. My numbers were not that great, and typically a phlebotomy would be indicated and completed that same day. But not that day. Why? Because my oncologist knows I have a life and is my biggest medical cheerleader for my Ironman triathlon training. He asked when my next races are. He asks how I'm feeling. He knows if he draws blood off me, my iron count will start to plummet again, and I'll begin to feel more fatigued. So we make an agreement. He'll allow me to not have a phlebotomy so that I can keep my numbers in a range that I feel like I can continue training for a long distance triathlon and still be monitored and watched. My oncologist knows that some of my numbers that are off can stay that way in the short term, while I realize my dream of a couple (2) of Ironman races in the next 8 months. He records this information in my chart, and gives me grace by allowing me to feel the best that I'm able to feel. Taking blood away, then giving iron back is a rollercoaster. He knows it. I know it. My oncologist wants me to be able to race triathlons and running races just as much as I do. He's amazing. My own medical cheerleader making special (safe) situations happen so that I can feel as good as possible. It doesn't get better than that. Just because I have cancer doesn't mean I don't have dreams that I want to realize and live out. He's on Team Cyndi. Thank you, Dr Athar. I couldn't do this without you. Really. I couldn't. Again, I thank God for David's and I's healthcare teams. They allow us to keep living life, dreaming, and realizing our dreams - cancer and all. I have to remind myself  'I Am Worthy'. It just seems so overwhelming to me sometimes that I have this opportunity. It's these opportunities that I will not let pass me by, as they are given and I am grateful to receive them. When I'm training, I push hard for all the people who can't. 

Who else is in training..... 

As our sweet grandson, Brooks stands freely, walks along the edge of the couch or other objects, we also find ourselves in awe of God's grace. Brooks will be walking soon. He's training right now, moving upright along anything he can get his hands on. He stands often and as much as possible. He's practicing and training for that first step on his own. It won't be long now. Because you know what happens after he walks......he runs. 

Loving the whipped cream Pops made. 

We celebrated both Ryan’s and Lauren’s birthday and Brooks was all about the treats, which is not normally in his daily diet. But we are at Nana’s, and the rule is Dessert First. And sometimes, a balloon is fun and scary at the same time. 

Stay wild,

Cyndi

 

Say It Ain't So

 

289 and FM121
Busy intersection in Gunter 

We've had the most amazing pleasure of living in Gunter for over 5 years now. In my opinion, it's been one of the best moves I've (we've) made. I love having cows as neighbors. I love the unpredictability of which of my farm animals have gotten into some unexpected mischief while I went to town (people still say that out here). I love getting on the mower and spending some time thinking only about the 10 feet in front of me. I love the quiet of outside, the sound of nature outside and that I feel like I'm a part of it all. I love running and biking on country roads where dogs will chase you and that's part of the deal. I love having a barn. I love all the lessons that the farm animals teach. 

And now, I love it that Gunter is getting a traffic light. Our first one. It's much needed, as the population out here has grown, and the main intersection in town has gotten very busy at times - and dangerous. The light will save lives. I've avoided that intersection at all costs for awhile, yet soon, I will travel through that area knowing that it's a much safer place for everyone involved. 

It’s happening here. A real light in Gunter.

Wait, what, there's more?

The road only stays “okay” for awhile.

We are also getting a road that's paved. What?! For over 5 years, we've only had dirt/gravel roads that take us out into the world. It's a repetitive cycle of huge holes to dodge, then the county comes and fills the holes, and then the holes are there again. Holes that you could lose a cow in. Cows need to be careful not to leave their pastures and get lost in these holes in the road, which takes us to the main road (289 or 121). I mean look at this.....

It’s flat, the craters are gone and it’s 
starting to be a real road now.
Not yet paved, but prepping for that.

It's a slow process, but we are getting a paved road. The county and city does nothing quickly, but they get full credit and all the gold stars for starting the road project and working on it, seemingly whenever they feel like working on it. Prior to this improvement, no matter which way we turned out our OWN gravel road from our house:

We are responsible for our own gravel road 😃

Once we turn off our own little gravel road, we do have pavement for about a quarter of a mile before we hit that janky county gravel road again to proceed to what I like to call, a main road. So it goes like this: Pull out of the garage, drive on gravel road to a paved road. Then shortly after you think, "I love this paved road", the paved road turns to gravel road with pot holes (keep small children away from this road or you may lose them, too). Then once you bob and weave the craters, you do eventually get to the main road which is only about 1/2 mile away but takes a fair amount of time to maneuver getting there.

What I'm trying to say is, no matter which way we turn to get out to the main road to go somewhere in the world, our choice was either a county road that was rocky and holey or a county road that was rocky and holey. I say county road because we are just outside of the city limits, and it's maintained by the county. So it seems the county and the city have come together to pave some of this road. I'm beyond elated. I don't know what I'll do if I'm not dodging and weaving my way up to the main roads. I will get back hours in my life and free up space in my mind whereby I have memorized the current hole patterns in the road. I'll never ask for anything else for Christmas again. I pinky promise. 

Wow, a traffic light and paved roads. The increase in my taxes is well worth these treats of real roads and safety. Thank you Grayson County and the City of Gunter. From the bottom of my pocket book, I may actually be buying less tires and having the alignment corrected on my truck far less now, and I thank you.

I can actually drive straight now, but watch for trains 🚂 
Look at this almost-real road. I'm loving it!

I wanted to point out one more thing before I leave this topic. I used to be 'that person' who never understood how people could be hit in their cars on the railroad tracks. Now I completely understand how someone could be hit in their car going over a railroad track. We don't have levers that descend down with bright lights telling you to stop for the train. Nope. We have no lights flashing. Nope. We have a RailRoad Crossing X sign that reminds you that a train COULD go by. And trains go by all the time. If your music is turned up and you are thinking about 6 other things as you fly by on this soon-to-be paved road over the RR tracks, you can actually miss the train whistle and bad things can happen. Add in that the road is wide enough for 1 car and 1/4 of another car. It certainly keeps things exciting out here.   

Country Mouse City Mouse

We’ve figured out some farm hacks around here over the last 5 years, many of which I randomly post and somehow feel that I’m the first person to do a certain something. I’m not. I’m usually just happy to have implemented something that saves time or money. If I was to tell the former version of myself (I’ll call her City Mouse) about these exciting what-I-think-of-as-farm-innovations, I'm pretty sure city mouse would simply roll her eyes and judge, judge and judge me some more. But my former city mouse can judge all she wants, because the country mouse is doing things. City mouse had her day. Country mouse is who I was meant to be all along. I just had to go through the city to get to the country.

This has been waiting for me at Tractor Supply 
for 5 years. Country Mouse finally found it. 

So simple, right? Why did I not think of this before? An automatic dog water bowel for the chickens. Yes, for the chickens. They love it! Fresh water all the time, and it's plugged into the water faucet in the barn. Done and done. I mean, we did this for the horses, so why did it take so long for me to think about a version of it for the chickens in the barn. Otherwise, we are constantly filling up water bowls and containers for the chickens, esp during the summer months. I can't answer the question of why it took me 5 years to do this. I was probably busy chasing down sheep trying to escape, fence mending/moving and other silly silly misc activities which I have likely documented in this blog. But this is life-changing for David and I. Just like the paved road. 

Not so fly after all

Hope all dressed up with nowhere to go.

Remember the fly mask for Hope? It was somewhat helpful when she would keep it on, but fast forward to the flies bothering Hope's body. Why Dora does not have these same fly issues as Hope is a puzzle I'm unable to piece together. It was suggested by my farrier that I consider getting Hope a fly covering for her body. I can do that, I'm thinking. I mean, she wouldn't keep her fly mask on, but somehow I'm convinced she'll keep her fly dress on. Makes sense, right?

It’s a little tight, but just trying to get her to keep it on. 

Despite that, David and I needed to help Hope with the pesky flies that torture her daily. So we bought her a fly dress. It's a mesh cover that protects much of her body from the flies. This is going to be great, I just know it. 

After dressing Hope for prom, she looked beautiful and we sent her back out to the pasture to show it off to her friends. And darned if she didn't have it on for even a full day, and pulled that dress off. Maybe she was mad we didn't get her the matching shoes or necklace, but either way, the velcro and buckles are no match for Hope. I guess she'd rather have the flies bothering and biting her than wear a dress. Seems silly to me, but we tried. Fly dress fail because that mare is not having it. 

Which reminds me. David and I are continually trying to fix farm things that we are convinced we can fix. Yet, we are shown over and over that our 'Farm Will' will not be done. We can try and try, and push our own will and desires on the Graves Farm. But nope, not everything is meant to be. But we keep trying. Just like these two outside dogs, Whisper and Winston. 

Whisper (white), Winston (black)

When the storms come, they both fit their big bodies through the doggie door into the laundry room and squeeze into the back closet and hide together. Thank goodness Levi (head guard dog) stays on duty even in the storms, while his associates ride out the storm in the closet. David and I just roll with it, and allow them to feel safe when they need to feel safe. I mean, who doesn't like a laundry room that smells like wet dirty farm dog(s). 

Be My Eyes

So I have this app on my phone called Be My Eyes. It's fairly new to me.

Have you heard of it? It's an app that connects the visually impaired with volunteers who are willing to take a FaceTime call and assist with issues that a visually impaired person might have in their day. For example, if someone who is blind needs help around the house (what color is this sweater? I can't find the so-in-so in this kitchen drawer) they can call on their phone using this app and a volunteer can help them. The call comes through similar to a FaceTime call and you can see what they are trying to show you, but they cannot actually see you. Duh, Cyndi. I signed up and got my first call from someone the other day. My phone lit up with "You have a call from Be My Eyes". I answered it, and I could see that the person on the other end of the line was holding up something for me to see. The man immediately begins asking questions about this piece he is holding up for me:

Lauren is texting, and I’m trying
to figure out the size of this thing. 

He was holding up some sort of metal hole saw/cutter drill thingie and was asking me what I thought the size of it was. Hummmmm, my first Be My Eyes call and it's a man asking me about power tool accessory. Of course, he can't really tell if he's holding it up in front of his camera on his phone because he can't see well enough to know that. So after I stutter a bit, I ask him to move it up some, now turn it around to the right, okay stop there. Okay, now hold your phone closer to it. All the while he's asking me the size of this Lenox round hole cutter. He says he's trying to place all the various sizes of his hole saw cutter kit pieces back into each other (for storage) and this particular one is not fitting, and if he knew the size, he could figure out how to get them all back in the case where he keeps them stored. I'm thinking 1) did he open the case and they spilled out, 2) did he use a power tool and drill a hole in something, 3) that for me to try and guess the size or dimension of any power tool is not my speciality. Okay, I say, slowly turn it around, and I'll look for the size on the side of it. He attempts to do so, but since he cannot tell if the tool is in my view of vision, we are both trying to communicate to get the answer he's wanting, bantering back and forth. So what do I do next? I find David. He'll know. He knows power tools, drills bits and things like that. "David! I need you to help us please" all while David is looking at my phone like it's a meteor from Mars. 'Why is this person holding this metal hole cutter and asking these questions'. David is completely and uttering perplexed. I tell David we are this man's eyes, and he's asking what size this metal hole cutter is. David, still confused, asks the man to turn the piece a certain way and after a few more turns by the man's hand, there's the size, engraved on the side of the hole cutter. But the man just keeps turning the piece. Wait! Turn it back the other way. The man does. David quickly takes a screenshot of the tool, and at the same time, I get a text from Lauren. BUT, we can now tell this man the size of this hole cutter. Turns out, this man had ordered one and had it delivered, but is unsure if it's the right size because it's not fitting in with his other sizes to fit back in his tool case. 

Something so simple, is so hard when you can't see. David, I, and the man on the phone all agree on the size of this hole cutter, and the man is now understanding that he may have received the wrong size in the mail, and so on, and so on. He says he'll now call the company he ordered it from and go from there. He had his answer. We say our goodbyes, and hang up. David looks up at me with the look of WTFrick was that all about. After I explain, he remembers I have this app on my phone and that visually impaired persons may call at any time and ask any random questions. I, on the other hand, am amazed at the genius who thought of this App and that people like me can help others at any time. They in their house, I in my house. I bet there's a gazillion other App's that help people in many ways I cannot even imagine. The world never ceases to amaze me. I look forward to what the next question will be. Hopefully it’s a question about chickens, or clothes, or something I might know something about. 

Put ice on everything

This is the one piece of advice I would give as my takeaway from my close encounter with school nursing. I really thought I was going to be a school nurse. I had even gone to HR to get my badge and do the things. I had ordered a School Nurse book that arrived that same day. But another interview that very same day changed all that. 

The thing about nursing is there's so many options right now, which is a wonderful thing. I've been looking at a couple of options lately as I lean towards a return back into the workforce. I've been taking an intentional work break for about 6 weeks now. I'm very used to the every-day-is-Saturday routine, and although I'm not sure I really want to give that up, I have been interviewing. Practicing interviewing is what I tell myself. But the thing is, people want to offer jobs. So, at a same day interview with Cook's Children's, I knew I would be putting the school nurse opportunity on hold. I just knew it during the interview, and felt like it's where I was meant to be. Luckily though, I still have about 2 more weeks of Saturdays, as I don't start until Aug 30th. And after all those YouTubes of school nursing, I now have a good understanding of what they really do. They do everything. E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G. It's no joke. I had no idea what all they do. And it's everything. 

David Update

Dante (of Tender BBQ) has been a friend of David's for some time. When Dante opened his first Tender BBQ restaurant, one of the things David did was make a Texas flag for the wall of his new restaurant. 

Seems there are particular dimensions for flags.
How much red, white and blue areas.
How big the star is. 
There’s rules to follow for it to be right
and look right. 

Then, David made another one for the Frisco location. Now, Dante is about to open up his newest location of Tender BBQ and David finished the flag for that location. 

It’s 4 X 6 foot 

It’s hard to tell how this will all blend in, but Dante always makes his restaurants look amazing, warm and welcoming. 

This is something David absolutely loves doing. Making things, esp for other people. I find it fascinating how one minute he's making a flag from wood, then another time he's doing flower arranging, and then stained glass, and wait, a Christmas wreath, and the list just goes on and on. He's artsy fartsy and I love that about him. When Lauren was growing up, David was always painting murals on the walls of her bedroom with the theme of her choice. And this weekend, David is starting a bedroom mural for Jeni's little Vince. I'm not sure what the topic of choice is, but we'll see soon enough. 

Also coming up next week, David heads back to Houston for his PET scan and MRI at MD Anderson. As you likely know, this will continue every 2-3 months for awhile. We are grateful for this follow up, and David readily moves through this process as it's his life line and compass in life. 

The thing about cancer is it's a guessing game. Many cancer patients live scan to scan, knowing that it's those followups that keeps oneself on course. You can go rouge and see what happens. I mean, people do that because it's easy, and staying on course can be costly and tedious. I, myself find the rouge option appealing, yet know what that means therefore I also stay on track with my cancer care. David and I were just having this conversation recently that taking care of oneself with cancer weaves a path in your daily life. Whether it's medications, scans, follow ups, or self care, cancer requires you to be on-guard full time. And at the same time, gives you a false sense that you are who you once were before cancer. It's tricky like that. Labs and scans look good, until they don't. We are endlessly hopeful for David's scans to be clear. We find it nearly impossible to think otherwise.

And in other news, David recently decided it was time for he and I to take country and western dance lessons. Yep, he sho did. David signed us up for real dance lessons at a real dance studio and there we were - learning to two step. Fast, fast, slow slow. Turns and all. We have rolled up the rug in the living room, propped it up in a corner, and pushed the furniture to the side. Our living room is now a dance hall. We turn on Willie or Garth and 2 step around the house in the evening. This dancing stuff is not as easy as it seemed. David's biggest obstacle is finding the beat. Mine is being a follower to his lead. It's a new team effort that had we tried this about 15 years ago, it could have been grounds for divorce. Now, it brings us together in a new way that strengthens our bond and encourages us to cheer each other on. And, since Dante is getting married soon, and his 'western themed dance' reception will be our first public dance appearance, we are getting ready to actually dance at a wedding reception (30 years later). Until then, we keep practicing. Trying not to step on each others feet, fall, or step on a dog. 

As you know, this means our living room went from housing our kitchen things TO a dance hall. Although our kitchen is still not officially complete (it's close!) - at least the kitchen has all it's kitchen things back in the kitchen. I'm still finding I cook less, but have come to embrace the idea of cooking less. I'm fine with cooking less. Or maybe even not at all. When everyday is a Saturday, aren't Saturday's meant for eating out? 

After

After

 

I’ll remind you of the before pics just for funsies. 

Before. Not too awful, right? 

Before. I wasn't a big fan of the fridge placement prior. 

In summary, I, too, have an oncologist appt coming up. Lauren and Ryan each have a birthday coming up. I'll start work again. My Ironman triathlon in Augusta is coming up next month. Brooks will turn 1 in October. David's season of UT football will start soon and he plans on being at the games as usual. We are all having a blast living this great life. You are. I am. And we are all actually doing it together. Thanks for coming along for the ride with us. We have many wonderful things on the horizon, and I know you do too. But first, let's see what this moment brings.

Much love to you,

Cyndi

Question of the day:

David bought new lighters at the store. Then, once home and opened, I noticed this. I’m not sure if his new labeling system should be offensive to me. 

Everything Happens

There's a couple of books by Kate Bowler titled, Everything Happens For A Reason: And Other Lies I've Loved and No Cure for Being Human that I've been devouring. OMGoodness. These books hit me hard in my own little life as first, Kate has Stage IV colon cancer and second, her 'cancer viewpoint' (although slightly different than my own) is powerful, intriguing and thought-provoking. I saw so much of her cancer-journey life in my own cancer-journey life. Everything from what people say to those of us with cancer, to why some people suffer and others are spared. Her review of conventional wisdom that's not that wise after all really hit home for me. 

Aristotle believed that everything happens for a reason. Whether you are spiritual, atheist, new-age-y or believe in God (or your higher power) Kate had so many, many words regarding this adage of 'everything happens for a reason' and how each of us coin it in our own life and beliefs. Kate's belief in God had her perplexed that if God is good, fair and powerful then why is this (cancer) happening to her. Or to anybody for that matter. Seems like a bit of a garbage deal, right? Kate goes on to say if all the people she's ever loved don't count enough to you (God), could you at least make a little exception for her. If not for her, then for them. Believing in God and having bad things happen in your life can be quite a struggle that people have to iron out.

I begin to understand that Kate being diagnosed with cancer at 35 years old and a small child in her arms is vastly different than my (and David's) situation, hence why her views are a bit different than my own. What Kate and I DO have in common is how the community reacts to those with cancer. Bottom line: there's no cultural script or language that allows others to communicate with those who have cancer. There's just not. It's uncomfortable. Period. I had blogged early on that no one can say anything 'wrong' to myself or David, when it comes to ourselves having cancer. I welcome all words and feelings from our caring communities of friends, families and quite frankly, anyone. I still feel that way 110%, as I feel that people’s intentions to say something is pure (and brave). What Kate points out is that people are unsure what to say (to her regarding her cancer diagnosis and her health) and therefore other's intentions of sweet and kind words can come across as desperate attempts at reasoning why some people get cancer. Yeah, I noticed she takes this way more seriously than I do, but I do notice it when it happens to myself. People ponder is it something I've done, something I was exposed to, does it run in the family, and so forth. People want answers, it's just who we are as human beings. 

A common theme when someone has cancer is how we (because I'm guilty of this in my own life) are attempting to talk with a friend or family member who have cancer and say things to them whereby we’re really just trying to make ourselves feel better. It's just such an uncomfortable situation anyway, and when someone says the ole 'everything happens for a reason' line, I don't know if I've every really believed that per se. Is it really cause and effect? Or is it more like in the book, The Secret, that we should just believe things enough that we can incubate our own life and draw it to us. Just think harder, incubate faster and the cancer will be gone. Or we can try to pray ourselves out of it. Or maybe life is just uncaring and the universe is cruel. There's so many ways to spin this. Kate points out so vividly in her book that there's no cure to being human. We don't get to graduate from it. We are stuck with genuine uncertainty. And that's where we will stay. In life, with happy and terrible things all around us. Thank you, Kate for bringing some new thoughts for me to mull over. I'm still living with my usual mojo of enjoying every day. Every day that I get up and brush my teeth is the best day ever. Yes, cancer cracks you open to everyone's pain and that's a perk of having cancer. I may not be able to see all of Kate's many sides of cancer from over here, but I'm not 35 with a small child. I've had a wonderful life, and do not have a tiny human depending on me. My tiny human is now grown with a tiny human of her own. Kate's books are raw, yet funny - and real. Reading about her outlook on cancer further clarifies and solidifies my own outlook on life with cancer. My take on life is: Everything Happens For A Reason. I just keep moving forward, one step at a time. Nobody every promised me a certain lifespan. I'll take what I get. 

Sheepishly Me

 

I had no idea I'd be this excited to have our 5 sheep back.

Grace with daughter, Brooklyn

When I hear my ewes baaaaaaa because they are so spoiled, it warms my heart. They look up at me with their rectangle pupils and it's like a direct channel to their soul. Their eyes reflect love, trust, peace and  harmony. There's just something about them that are unlike any other animal. Yes, they want treats, but they also want my touch. They love to be loved primarily by having their faces gently stroked -  some of the ewes more than others. But they know me, just like my dogs know me. I just love them so much. I missed them. 

Counterclockwise: Grace, Brooklyn, Lulu, Willow 
and Belle behind the feeder

David (aka Lamb Dad) actually made noises recently of: when we are getting our next ram, Tres? See, he's already named him, too. The thing about sheep is though, they are tricky, puzzle solvers. Yep, if there's a way out of the fence, they'll find it. That was our biggest issue before going to Houston for David's cancer treatment. The sheep are going to try and escape because it's just what they do. They check every gate multiple times a day to see if we accidentally left it open which we do far too often. So a huge thank you to Amy and Cody for taking such great care of them, and blessing us with them when they could have freely kept them as their own.

Lava ewe ❤️

I'll keep you posted, but Lamb Dad says he'll start looking for a ram in Oct/Nov. We'll see what happens. I mean, we already know everything happens in life. So who knows how it will all go down. 

Brookie Baby

Okay, everything’s happening in the Cannon household, too. Brooks is making everything happen lately. He's just about 10 months old and we are already talking about his 1 year old birthday celebration at the farm in Oct. What?!

Entered in the 2033 Olympics 
in Egg Eating Creativity 

I had the pleasure recently (while on my work break) of watching Brookie a day or so while his day care was closed for staff training. 

Enjoys his wagon time

The dogs were not as smitten to be there as I was.
But our floors were being done, and the dogs
had to come along for the fun.

Let’s just say the dogs were not a fan of a crawling baby. They stayed far away. Maybe actually stayed by the front door for 2 days waiting for us to leave. She has no patience for a baby. After all, whose going to eat all the chicken poo in the barn if we are not there. 

Brooks neurons are firing fast and furious and I feel like I can see his synapses happening in real time. 

He's nonstop playing and his favorite toy is not a toy. It's a plastic coffee cup lid.

All I need is a bottle and a lid. 

He loves a rinsed out yogurt plastic container. Or a small plastic bowl. No toys needed, just open the tupperware cabinet and he's in it. Ryan and Lauren will need to get their roller skates out soon to keep up. They'll need to add more carbs in their diet, and keep every single thing in their house waist up and above. Things are about to get wild. The word No will mean absolutely NOthing. He'll use it only to say back to them. Never mind the little side curl grin on my face and the giggle sound that just escaped my mouth. I was just thinking that he needs a brother to wrestle with, that's all. His day care brothers will do for the mean time though.  

Break time's up, People

As much as David has encouraged me to hang out at home, and I have for a month and love it, I begin to look out in the world at what nursing jobs are dangling out there. Yes, it took me almost a full week to adjust to being home, but after that, every day was a Saturday. I get lost in the days and mostly know what day it is by whether David is working or not. What I know for sure is that it's really cool and fun not to work. Yet, I did begin to dabble in resuming, interviewing and that sort of thing just because. I don't have a set reason, I just did. Then, something showed up that my sister (and her daughter, Kris) had suggested and encouraged......school nursing. 

I happened to apply for a school nurse position with absolutely zilch experience in school nursing. Then, called in for an interview with a group of administrators from the school who I instantly liked. There I was sitting in a board room of the high school and answering round robin questions. What would be the most challenging thing for you in this position, they asked. Uh, that I'm not a school nurse and have a huge learning curve. This questioning went on and I answered questions which I found entertaining and actually almost fun. After all, I need to practice interviewing, right? So why not make it fun. Then, before I knew it, the interview was over and I was back in my car jiggity jig, driving back home replaying in my mind some of the things I had said in the interview. A audible giggle would escape my mouth here and there in the car. Thinking of how the interviewers would scribble madly on their mandatory Interview Form when I said this or I said that. It would surprise me each time, and draw my attention to the person scribbling something on their paper to the answer of a question just asked of me. It was almost like a game. They ask something, I say something, and some of them scribble. I did not feel nervous, after all I was practicing, right.

Wrong. You see, it's real after all. It's not just practice. Their scribbles added up to a call back to me (after all the candidates were interviewed) and I was kindly offered the school nurse position by the assistant principal of the high school. I'm still waiting for the call back for them to say they were just kidding and it was practice after all. But I've not received that call. Instead, I'm going in for fingerprints tomorrow, background check and maybe eventually if they see I'm not a criminal, a new hire appt. Huh. Maybe working at a high school during the insurgence of covid cases rising again seems a bit illogical. But here I am.

Little Girl Town

Okay, enough about work things. Let's talk chickens. We all know how much I love my little girlz. I decided not that long ago to allow the silkies and frizzles to leave their fenced area and move about the world (free range). They still have access to their Little Girl Area readily, and they do so. Yet, they get to investigate other areas like the barn, the side pasture and the intersanctum as well. Here’s just a few whose out and about in life these days. Covid means nothing to them. 

SaltNPeppa

Tiny yet mighty

Frankie, best silkie mama ever

These sweeties still head back to their own coop nightly to roost (in their Little Girl Area). They do not sleep in the barn with the big girlz. Not yet anyway. My 2 youngest silkie pullets are growing up, and their brother (the rooster) was taken to the feed store to be sold there. I almost kept him for breeding and considered raising more bantums, but decided it's not really what I want to do right now. So, all my chickens are technically hens (or young girlz, pullets). You know us, we accidentally get a rooster here and there. For now, we are rooster-free.

Kitchen Aid

We are almost at the finish line. I'll try to make this the last time I fuss review the kitchen re-do. 

Worth the wait

Here's my list of why I might not remodel a kitchen in the future:

1) each time a subcontractor would finish what they were doing (painting, flooring, etc) they either created more work for us via either addt clean up needed or we'd need to fix something they inadvertently messed up in the process of doing their job they were there to do.  

2) delays, lots of delays for us with subs

3) additional expenses for unexpected things like black mold, flooring complications and plumbing and electrical hiccups (due to older house)

4) unexpected arrival of workers and/or no arrival of workers

5) I'm not sure I'd have the patience necessary to move through it all again knowing what I know now. 

My list of why I would remodel a kitchen again:

1) It's SO worth it. 

Only a few remaining items left such as trim,
paint touch up, and ice for the fridge 😍

Interestingly enough, I'm not really doing alot of cooking these days. Imagine that. Yet, I'm enjoying the kitchen immensely. I missed you, kitchen.

Heading to watch a youtube on school nursing, just in case.......

Cyndi