West Texas Mama

   It is a well known fact that women fall into two categories:  those who are shoe addicts and those who are purse addicts.  I come from a very long line of shoe addicts.  I would most likely follow in their footsteps, however, I have abnormal feet.  No, I don't have an abnormal number of toes.  I just have very long, very skinny feet.  Imagine skis.  Put toes on the end and you have my feet.  And, lucky me, both my second and third toes are almost as long as my big toe.  I was once at a zoo and there was an impression of an ape's foot next to their area.  I held up my foot.  Let's just say that my feet would be an argument scientists might use to support the hypothesis that we are very close cousins of the ape.  They do come in handy, however, as I can pick up things with them, and I can write my name with them - both skills I know you envy.  These are not feet designed to be crammed into pretty pointy-toed sti...

     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 sp...

                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 ...

     Recently, Muzzy and Oso taught their darling grandchildren the Slugbug Game.   Yep, the same people who used to light up my and my sister’s hineys for slugging each other just taught their grandchildren to play a game historically known for its celebration of violence.      (If you are unfamiliar with this game, in the original version, should you spot a Volkswagon Bug car, you shout out "slugbug!" and hit or "slug" whomever you are with.  It's great family fun and a perfect example of Americana.  Or something like that.)      In an effort to minimize the odds of Jake or Emma being kicked out of school for fighting, we’ve modified the game to just calling out “Slugbug!” and the color.   Emma, pretty girl that she is, claims every slugbug that everyone else sees as her own.   Jake has decided that spotting slugbugs should be a team sport – and whomever is ahead is automatically on his team. ...

     Working in the education industry, one interacts a lot with parents and children.  El Hubbo and I have NUMEROUS stories - some humorous, some sad, some downright ridiculous.  We were both, fortunately, raised by parents who encouraged our independence.  Today's child is more often coddled and protected by fierce "helicopter parents".       I have decided I want my own club.   The Survival of the Fittest Child Rearing Club.    To earn membership, you must demonstrate the ability to allow your children to (1)learn from failure, (2) experience the glories of dirt, and (3) earn their keep around the house.       Learning from failure may include watching your child fall down concrete steps at a softball game.  If you can look at your child, quickly assess that there are no broken bones and only minimal blood, and say, "Ah, brush it off.  There's ...

I’ve neglected my blogging responsibilities, and I’ve missed you, dear readers, but not enough to deny myself the many pleasures of the local fair.   I affectionately refer to this time of year as “Corn Dog Week”, and many were consumed.   But that is not all that one may gain from frequent and regular attendance to this celebration of all things fried and weird. There are many thank yous I should give to those who make my fair experiences worth-while.   Thank you, older ladies in strapless shirts who believe you rock the tight jeans.   You make me feel much better about my modest, age-appropriate attire that frees my mind from worry over wardrobe malfunctions or the overt ogling of toothless carnival workers. Carnival employees, to your many ranks I owe much.   Thank you to the game booth attendant who knocked the rust off my ability to do complicated calculations in my head and challenge him on exactly how much I really owed him in order to get my darling son...

     A little background info is needed for this one. You should know that I am an Aggie. Texas A&M University has my heart. El Hubbo is a Raider. I live in Lubbock, and job opportunities being what they are, I work for Texas Tech University. (Much to El Hubbo’s delight.) I have nothing against Texas Tech – it is a fine educational institution, and it pays me well and keeps me off the streets.      El Hubbo and I have a basic agreement to not talk badly about the other’s alma mater. Which we try to honor as best we can. (We have both slipped up in the past.) And, we agree that college choice will be each kid’s decision to make. We can agree that we prefer they go to whichever one offers the most scholarship money. (Hey, can you really blame us?)      That being said – this was too funny of an event to pass up writing about. We go to dinner following Bible class last night, and El Hubbo asked Jake about school. This week ...