West Texas Mama

 I used to send out a Christmas card with usually funny pictures of my offspring and a Christmas letter.  A couple years ago, I noticed I received only a couple Christmas cards and I noticed how expensive my little project was, and I noticed how expensive Number One Son's braces were going to be, and I decided that the card and letter tradition had probably gone the way of others. and it was time to stop.  My holiday spirit died a little that day. And, then, a miracle.  It's 2020 and I have received a record number of Christmas cards!  Actual, in the mailbox, Christmas cards!  And, several virtual cards (which I still give points for as it takes time and planning.) My holiday spirit enjoyed that little boost.   So, as it is too late to assemble the actual card and letter,  here's the resurrected virtual annual report of the Martinez Clan: Number One Son has grown to the point he looks his mama in the eye.  He sidles up to her often to see if he has passed her.  She reminds

"Steer's out!" was the call El Hubbo got last Saturday.  We were outside on our back porch, enjoying our newly cleaned up space, when our friend and neighbor down the road called. He'd just gotten two steers the night before, and we'd gone to help him unload. "They are a bit bigger than I thought they were going to be," he said.  He'd planned to get a couple steers to feed out and then have butchered.  Usually that translates into a 300 - 500 lb calf, and you feed them out to about 1000 - 1300 lbs.  When we arrived, we were greeted by two solid black, 900+ lb steers who were not too happy with their current circumstances.   Mean would be an understatement.  They were in the trailer, but they eyed us with a "We're bigger and badder than you" look in their eyes.  El Hubbo and I looked at each other a bit surprised, and then we hopped out and got to work.  The trailer was backed up, the gates were opened and out they charged!  Around the h

Little Sunshine has recently been allowed to start using some minimal makeup.  Last night, she launched a full-on attack regarding her lack of space on her bathroom counter and the need for El Hubbo and I to switch bedrooms and bathrooms with her.   Our counter argument was that as the two people who bring in fairly regular income, we have earned the right to have the largest bedroom and bathroom in the house.  I very much enjoy my large walk-in closet with the vanity counter.   She countered with the point that she would be eventually, like when she turns 15, need space for bronzer, contour kit, more brushes, and a whole list of other items I forget, and therefore would obviously need a larger space to work in. My response? "I don't even use that much make up!" Her:  "Yeah, but you are a simple woman, one who doesn't know how to use those things, so you wouldn't understand.  I am the artiste, and I have studied how to contour.  It's ok, you are at an age