This husband of mine…

Does this thing whenever we check into a motel…usually in the elevator…asks she-who-booked-the-room if she got one by the ice machine…her response, a quick, “I sure did”…followed by the ‘he he ha ha’ of two old folks who think they are the funniest people on the planet…

Because once…a long time ago…went away for the weekend…booked a room at a hotel…a nice room…a fancy room…a room directly behind the ice machine…

And it was loud…ridiculously loud…ice dropping…people talking…something banging…it was two nights filled with noise, noise, and more noise…

And so it was…rock-hunters-us headed out on the final leg…left before dawn…he behind the wheel for the first time in four months…destination—Wichita, Kansas…

Stopped for breakfast…drove the back roads…easy peasy lemon squeezy…did the shtick in the elevator at the hotel…and laughed when there was no ice machine to be found…

But there was noise…worse than the ice maker noise…evening noise…middle of the night noise…all the time noise…

Sounded like heavy machinery…groaning…grinding…banging…looked out the window time and again sure to see some new wing being built in the dark of night, but no, nothing…

Went in search the next day…had to know…needed to know what could possibly be worse that having a room behind the ice machine…

And that would be…having a room beside the electrical room…

And so it is…in life…things could always be worse…
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And that husband of mine…agrees…

That cabin on Comanche Creek…

Has a mirror…a magic mirror…two to be exact…you know the type…the ones that take the real you and magically make you look better—thinner, healthier, prettier…

Get sucked in EVERY YEAR…take a selfie-in-the-mirror-picture EVERY YEAR…try to savor that ‘Wow I look good’ feeling…try to capture it for future reference…

Went for a walk not long ago…just around the neighborhood…a friend sitting on her porch called out, “Looks like you lost weight in Texas!”…the scale would disagree…but there it was…

That magic mirror feeling…

Was standing in Walmart at the checkout…saw a young lady pushing through a crowd making eye contact…got ten feet away and called, “I wanted to say I LOVE your outfit! It’s just so cute!”…and there it was…

That magic mirror feeling…

Walked out of a coffee shop visiting that daughter of mine…two young ladies stop and turn…couldn’t have been more than 20…one had hair a lovely pink…

“We love your headband,” they say, “and what you’re wearing. You’re so colorful. It’s so fun!”…and there it was…

That magic mirror feeling…

And so it is…in life…no matter our age…no matter our shape or size or taste in clothes…we all deserve to feel that magic mirror feeling…

Find your magic mirror…
BE a magic mirror…
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And those daughters of mine…agree…

This husband and I…

Enjoy the wildlife at the Lindsay Ranch…

The hummingbirds on the back porch…the nosy cows milling around…the Texas Longhorn—so stately, so iconic…

Heading out for the day, stopped to open the gate…noticed a bird skittering nearby…skittering and squawking…skittering and squawking…

That husband of mine, bird expert that he is, began one of his famous mini-science lessons to ever-enthralled-me…

“That little skittering squawker,” he says, “is a killdeer. Pretends to have a broken wing if a predator comes close. Probably has a nest nearby because they build them out in open fields.”

And sure enough, that skittering squawker DID have a nest nearby…really nearby…a few feet away, nearby…right in the middle of the road nearby…

And the heart of mama-me began to fret…

Those eggs…beautifully speckled…neatly aligned…sitting in their shallow little nest…in the middle of the road, where cars drive daily, where animals roam near, where rock hunters amble by…aren’t safe…

But that skittering squawker knew what she was doing…protecting her babies…skittering…squawking…keeping two old gawkers away…

And so it is…in life…fight for what’s important…friends…family…those you love…every day…in every way…

Be a skittering squawker…
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And that husband of mine…agrees…

This husband and I…

Drove to the other side of the ranch…the creek bed there, dry and clear…earlier rains evident…large rocks covering the landscape…indentations show the path of the flow…

Which, in the world of rock hunting, is a good thing…the thought of treasures, buried deep for centuries, working their way to the top—adding a little thrill…

And so we walk…and bend…and squat…and dig…walk and bend and dig some more…

The weather cool…the sun warm…birds sing…leaves rustle…the crunch of the granite beneath the feet soothing…peaceful…

And that’s when rock-hunting me struck gold…well not gold, exactly, but felt as good as gold…looked like a potato…smooth…oval…but a potato it was not…

Dug some more and some more…unearthing treasure after treasure…four to be exact…Native American stone tools…

And suddenly the bank of Comanche Creek came alive—with images of what had come before—with images of WHO had come before, and holding those stones…the connection was real…

And so it is…in life…the past…the present…the future…the chain of time…linked in the most spectacular of ways…
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And that husband of mine…who came home with a crystal treasure of his own…agrees…

That cabin on Comanche Creek…

Got a little facelift over the winter…that delightful owner…young and feisty at the age of 90…added some updates to the place…

Painted the front door…purchased new bedspreads…filled the rooms with creative decor…

One-of-kind…unique…inspiring…brought the outdoors in…using photos of the ranch to line the windows…to grace the walls…

Made visitor-me think of a doodad she saw once while browsing a thrift shop…a simple little doodad with a saying that hit home…

Make your life a work of art…

And this is what she did…literally…in that Texas cabin on Comanche Creek…her longhorn…her wildflowers…her vintage truck…her ranch…her life…embracing all who enter that cozy place…

And so it is…your life is what you make it…simple…colorful…peaceful…vibrant…whatever your taste…make it a work of art…

Create a masterpiece…
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And this husband of mine…agrees…

This husband and I…

Took a rock hunting break and trekked to the neighboring towns where he lived as a child…

A pilgrimage of sorts…stop at the same places…drive by the same sites…pay homage to the same people…

Visit D & J’s antiques and oddities first…love the place…filled with more oddities than antiques…met at the door by our favorite one…beautiful…unique…meowing, pleading, making eye contact through the door…

But the shop was closed…sign on the door said, ‘For Sale’, bringing worry that something may have happened to D or J or maybe even D AND J…

Drove to Fife…a little town that’s no longer a town…the house where he lived no longer there…the country store where he bought candy for a dime, no longer there…

Stopped by the cemetery usually covered in wildflowers, sparse this time because of the drought…heard stories about friends from the past…had a mini science lesson about the fire ant…and then went in search of the real reason this old gal enjoys this little area…

The dung beetle…

A marvel…a wonder of nature…could watch them work for hours…or minutes, at least…always rolling around the cemetery without a care in the world…

But this time…they weren’t rolling…weren’t working…weren’t there at all…

And so it is…in life…sometimes you expect the unexpected…and sometimes you expect the expected but unexpectedly it’s not as expected…

Maybe next year…
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And this husband of mine…agrees…

This daughter of mine…

Shared a photo…a Ring photo…a Ring photo that captured her mother-to-be profile…

And it was beautiful…artistic…stunning in its simplicity, color palette, unique bits of distortion…

And it makes one think about motherhood…how beautiful it is…what a blessing it is…

Simple yet so very hard…basic yet so very complicated…predictable yet ever-changing…each child unique…each mother the artist charged with creating the masterpiece of life…

Nurturing…empathizing…caring…loving…listening…sacrificing…caring…loving…supporting…understanding…caring…loving…

The list goes on and on…the list that never ends…

And how proud this mother is to see those girls she raised live by that list…mother in their own way…because mothering can take on so many forms…

Cat mom…dog mom…neighborhood gal mom…baseball mom…teacher mom…mother-to-your-husband mom…

And so it is…in life…we celebrate moms…any mom…all moms…those unspoken heroes who fight that fight to make the world…the world for those they love…a better place…
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And those mother friends of mine…agree…

This husband and I…

Always end our Texas stay with a little rock hunting at the Lyndsay Ranch in Mason, Texas…

Owned by the most delightful woman…love chatting with her almost as much as walking the riverbeds looking for topaz, quartz, and Native American artifacts…

Love to stay in the cabin on Camanche Creek…a dry creek bed…granite as far as the eye can see…except this year it wasn’t exactly dry…

It was murky…sludgy…full of muddy puddles…the signs of torrential rains and rushing water apparent…the landscape nothing like the year before…

It felt strange…off…hard to navigate…kind of sad to see the change…

And so it is…in life…what a difference a year can make…there’s good…and bad…especially in the world of aging…eyes go…back goes…in the middle of the night you have to go, go, go…

But you gotta just keep on going…one foot in front of the other…weather those changes and be thankful for what’s still holding strong…
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And this husband of mine…agrees…

This husband of mine…

Collects bottles of wine…doesn’t drink wine…doesn’t drink alcohol at all…

Is drawn to the labels…where the wine was made…the story behind the winery…have six in all…one for each year of Texas travel…

Pass many wineries on the drive back north…decided to pick one…look for the souvenir there…and driver-me knew exactly which one she would choose…

Because it was quirky…because it was clever…because it makes her smile…

Fat Ass Winery…had the place to ourselves…laughed at the merchandise…enjoyed the scenery…chatted with the woman in charge…

And picked out the new addition for the family tradition…

And so it is…in life…don’t take it too seriously…find the humor…laugh a little…and if you’re ever in the area, check out Fat Ass Winery and Ranch…

You’ll get a kick out of it…
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And this husband of mine…agrees…

This husband and I…

Bid farewell to our friends at home away from home…

The stately buck near the cabin next door…the adorable fawn following its mother…the ducks so fun to watch in the river…

The squirrels, the birds, the fish, the armadillo that was around but could never be found…and that adorable cat with the unique personality, winning us over with his pleading eyes and biscuits in the dirt…

It’s always hard to leave…the simplicity…the calm…what used to be new now feels familiar…for four months has been home…

But there’s a buzz in the air…an excited buzz…looking forward to being reunited with Little Cottage and its quirky treasures…the queen sized bed…family and friends…and Pumpkin…

That cat we left behind…lives in the neighborhood…stops by twice a day…eats some food…watches Lawrence Welk…gives sweet hugs and kisses…

But Iowa in the winter can be brutal…four months is a long time…neighbors haven’t seen him…the woman who usually feeds him says he hasn’t been around…

And to be honest, Texas-travelers-us may be a curse to our Iowa felines…losing the two we loved, Old Man Wrigley and Rowdy Roddy, in years past…

So let’s get this show on the road…someone’s waiting for us…we hope…we pray…cuz he’s our sweetie…our Pumpkin to our pie…
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And this husband of mine…agrees…