West Texas Mama

     At 4:55 p.m. the skies were clear.  I left campus and headed to the daycare to pick up the munchkins.  By 5:15 we were home, and it was a little breezy, but nothing remarkable.  By 5:30 the skies were red - not dusty brown, but red.  Like fury from the sky red.  Like Marilyn Monroe's lipstick red.  You get the picture.  75 mph winds pummeled the house.  We hurriedly got the dog in lest the fence blow down, and Rocky go airborne, never to be seen again.      Folks, I've lived in West Texas for a LONG time.  I've never seen anything like it.  Neither had most others.  Reports are that if you weren't alive in the Dust Bowl, you've never seen it.  Apparently this is common in Saudi Arabia, and there, wind gusts of 30 - 40 mph will gather up a wall of dust.  You've probably seen it in the movies, or perhaps in Iraqi war coverage - it tumbles and boils and roils and picks up both speed and height.  In Arabic, it is called a "haboob".      The first

                El Hubbo and my concert-going history is quite extensive.   I worked for an organization that paid me to help put on 20 a year for 7 years.   I’ve seen a lot of acts, in many different genres, and therefore it takes quite a bit for a show to impress me.   When we heard Taylor Swift was coming, I was intrigued not because I am a huge fan of her music, but more because I had heard that she put on quite a show.                   We decided we would take the kids because we figured Taylor Swift should be family-friendly.   This was an expensive risk, as we had no idea if the noise of the concert would be well-received by the munchkins or not.                   We parked the car and started the hike to the arena along with thousands of Taylor wannabes.   There was no shortage of minidresses, rhinestones, and sequins.   And that was just the mamas of the little girls.   I was feeling a little underblinged since I had opted for t-shirt and jeans.   (Hey, I’m the mom of