This old gal…

Shopping the Expo Hall at the rodeo, saw a sign that cracked her up…a frog…a cowboy frog with the caption that said…’The Only Squat I’m Doin, Is Diddly…

Clever, so very clever…then realized it wasn’t a sign but an iron-on transfer…could hear the hissing of the steam as a man pressed shirts nearby…

A few days later, there they were again…transfers, in Hobby Lobby, and transfer-loving me realized they must be in style again, after fifty long years…

Maybe one of us needs one, that mushroom one…get a shirt and do some ironing…but something said no…not that husband of mine…not the fact that maybe 64 year olds aren’t wearing transfer Tees…but because of TTST…

Transfer T-Shirt Trauma…

1970s…fourteen year old me…transfer T-shirts all the rage…went to the shop in Sycamore Mall by Baskin-Robbins and used her own money to purchase a white shirt with a big ladybug transfer on the front…

Thought it was the bomb…imagined herself like Marcia Brady but turned out to feel like Jan because for some reason that ladybug shirt became the family joke…fodder for teasing…so much teasing devastated me hid that shirt in a bottom drawer and never put it on again…

And so it is…in life…we all have our ladybug shirt hidden in the bottom drawer of our childhood…embarrassment, pain, a time of hurt…

Acknowledge it…embrace it…open that drawer and set it free…
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And this husband of mine…agrees…

Those daughters of mine…

Loved the state fair…the Iowa State Fair…always started the day off at the Varied Industries Building…browse the vendors…get free temporary tattoos…

And who knew that the rodeo, The San Antonio Rodeo, would be pretty much just like that State Fair except with rodeo stuff and lots and lots of cowboys…

And in spite of those cowboy romance novels, or the cowboy Hallmark movie…the hat, the tight jeans, the belt buckle does nothing to make the heart of this old gal go pitter-pat…until…

Walking through the rodeo version of the Varied Industry Building…there he was…in all his glory…the cowboy of this old rodeo gal’s dreams…

The hat, the boots, the scarf…the eyes, the smile, the furry forearms…if cats even HAVE forearms…

Whatever…it didn’t matter…that adorable Pumpkin Cowboy…or is Cowcat?…or maybe Cowboycat?…is destined to wrangle his cows…in Iowa…

Because sometimes in life, it’s love at first sight…and sometimes it may be a little shop called Karma…and sometimes, for an old gal and her cowboy cat, it just might be both…
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And this husband of mine…agrees…

This husband and I…

Zip-a-dee-do-dahed to the rodeo…the San Antonio Rodeo…not far from the hotel…a jaunt up Houston Street…parked in the easy to find lot…

About a mile from the entrance…in fact new-to-the-rodeo us couldn’t even find the entrance…had to stop and ask someone how to buy tickets…where to go in…

And were shocked to find there was a special event…ticket prices only three dollars because, get this…it was school field trip day…

What are the odds?…pretty good apparently…

Quite an undertaking taking buses of kids to the rodeo…this group not quite as synchronized as the zoo group…color coded but more like herding cats…an old gal glad to be an observer…a distant observer…

Walked the grounds…got the feel of the rodeo, the lay of the land…browsed for hours, two old folks getting tired…couldn’t find the exit, just like we couldn’t find the entrance…finally came upon some turnstiles…

Which people couldn’t use because the turnstiles wouldn’t turn…because field trip kids in most likely third grade were climbing them like monkey bars…exhausted chaperones leaning against a wall feet away…

And that’s when it happened…like Superman going into that phone booth…the change…the transformation…something clicks and an old gal turns into…duh duh duh…teacher me…

“Friends,” came the words, “ these are not for climbing. People are trying to get through. Please get down and back up…”

Which they all did…except one…who hung there giving the defiant eye-stare, until she heard the word: ‘Now’…

And so it is in…in life…don’t we all have a superpower?…a well-earned, well-honed superpower developed from years in the field…whatever field that may be…

The skill to conquer tech, create amazing baked goods, make the best bed in the world using those things called hospital corners…

Or, when push comes to shove…come out of retirement and do what teachers do best…swoop in and save the day with nothing more than a look and that magic thing we call…The Teacher Voice…
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And that husband of mine…agrees…

College gal me…

Was hanging out with friends when someone asked, “What do you think is the most attractive thing about a guy?”…

Heard the typical responses…eyes, hair, butt, smile…and then laughter broke out because one of us…and she shall remain nameless…said forearm…

Ok, she’s not nameless, she’s gonna own it because college me DID always notice a man’s forearms first…forearms and hands…strong, sinewy, artistic…could tell a lot about a person…

And so it was…forty years later…waiting at the hotel waffle station for breakfast to cook was greeted by someone at the adjacent waffle maker…

A cowboy…an old dad cowboy having breakfast with his teen daughter…and not gonna lie, this old-dad-cowboy-having-breakfast-with-his-teen- daughter had pretty nice forearms…

Couldn’t help but notice because this old-dad-cowboy-having-breakfast-with-his-daughter forgot to spray the waffle maker with oil so as he chatted there was hand to hand combat between that weird plastic fork thing and his stubborn stuck waffle…

And for once, normally chatty me, felt awkward…because she’d just rolled out of bed, pinned her hair up, threw on yesterday’s clothes, and was nothing less than disheveled…

Especially later when that old-dad-cowboy-having-breakfast-with-his-teen-daughter’s wife showed up…and she was gorgeous…all made up…fancy cowgirl outfit…obviously staying back to get ready…

And it made an old gal think…an old-gal-having-breakfast-with-a-man-who-has-a-really-cool-tattoo-on-his-forearm…that she’s glad those days are past…the days of over-primping…the days of over-caring…

And what a relief it is to be loved and accepted disheveledness and all…and she just had to share this revelation to this man-with-the-really-cool-tattoo-on-his-forearm eating away at some oatmeal with raisins…

“Thank you for loving me just the way I am,” came the soap opera words…

And that man…that man-with-the-really-cool-tattoo-on-his-forearm who was completely unaware of the saga going on in the head of his anything but beautiful breakfast partner, responded with…

“What?”

And so it is…in life…what a blessing it is to love and be loved…and what a blessing it is to to be loved for who we are…warts and all…
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And that husband of mine…agrees…

This husband and I…

Headed off early to the zoo…the first item to check off his old man bucket list…beautiful weather…early in the week…should have the place to ourselves…

But joke was on us…the parking lot was full…fuller than full…couldn’t find one space…was there a special event?…something we didn’t know?…did everyone else just decide to go to the zoo, zoo, zoo, too, too, too?…

And then we noticed a pattern…buses…parents…children with colored name tag stickers…apparently it was school field trip day and the heart of teacher me was thrilled…

How fun to walk the grounds, enjoy the exhibits, watch hundreds of excited little ones chat excitedly about the animals…

How fun for teacher me to watch how big city schools do field trips…class shirts, printed name tags, color coded everything, parent chaperones, grandparent chaperones, each student in a group of five…

It was an organized masterpiece…a delight to observe, as was the zoo…the flamingos, the rhinos, the new gorilla habitat…

And for one of us…36 years in the classroom…36 years of field trips and duties…36 years watching the joy on little faces as they learn something new…it felt…like coming home…
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And those daughters of mine…would agree…

This husband of mine…

Has been dropping hints the last few years…suggesting things he wants to do…things in San Antonio…things on the old man bucket list…

The zoo, Sea World, a day at the rodeo…but one of us downplayed it…ignored it…put off going because one of us was afraid of the drive…

Not sure where to go, where to park, how to navigate traffic…don’t know the area, what to expect, afraid of the unknown…

But this year…downtown for five days…could take a bus…or the trolley…an Uber, even…because this year this old gal planned to make his wishes happen…but that was not to be…

Or should we say, it was not to be in the way driver me expected…because driver me…scaredy cat that she is…found that driving downtown San Antonio in the winter…is no different than driving in that small hometown in Iowa…

Easy to navigate…little to no traffic…could get where we wanted to go with no problemo… and so we did…

Got where we were going…zipped here…zipped there…zip-a-dee-doo- dahed around the square…and one of us…not gonna lie…was just a little bit proud of herself…

And so it is…in life…sometimes that thing we fear…that monster under the bed…isn’t as scary as what’s going on in our head…

Have confidence…give it a shot…and know in your heart…

You got this…
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And this husband of mine…agrees…

This husband and I…

Set food and water by the dumpster…looked for the poor ragged kitty…couldn’t find him anywhere…walked the grounds…checked the lot next door…when what to our wondering eyes should we see?…

Two other little friends out and about…Mr. Possum, had a little home in the grassy space behind the neighboring Comfort Inn, and Pretty Kitty, sunning herself in the courtyard of the law building now abandoned…

A little community…a little back of the hotel community…lost?…maybe…lonely?…maybe…hungry?…possibly…but connected…connected in their little waif way each tugging at the hearts of two visiting old folks…

Checked the food dish throughout the day…by night it was empty…not sure who indulged…but kept it full…for five days kept it full…

Hoping it was something, not enough but something, to keep that little orange kitten going…but never saw him again…

Tried to give him a happy ending…an in-the-head happy ending…maybe someone found him…maybe someone rescued him…maybe someone took him home…

Worried us will never know…but what we DO know, is that Pretty Kitty ate well for five days…she was the indulger…at least one of the indulgers…

And the beautiful young lady, working the evening shift at the hotel desk and loves cats, promised to watch out for her…take care of her…keep her safe…

Because in a world where things don’t add up…life doesn’t always seem to be fair…don’t we all deserve to find our happy ending?…
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Of course we do…

And this husband of mine…agrees…

This husband and I…

Pulled into the parking area for the hotel behind the Alamo and what to our wondering eyes did we see?…

A kitty…a tiny orange kitty…a tiny, scruffy, orange kitty licking something off the pavement near a discarded McDonald’s bag…

And the heart of this old gal hurt…

Took our bags to the room and went back out…searched the area…found no sight of the poor little thing…made a plan to check again in the morning…

And there it was, wrestling with a piece of dried pizza three times its size, in a corner, by a filth laden garbage dumpster…

And the heart of this old gal broke…

This was the straw…the proverbial straw…this starving tattered little babe pushed kitty lover me over the edge…

Wanted to cry…curl up in a ball and cry…pound fists on the legs and cry…collapse to the ground and cry…

But it really wasn’t about the cat…
Yet it was…

It was the struggle, the unfairness, the feeling of helplessness…

It really wasn’t about the cat…
Yet it was…

The inequity, the pain, the overwhelming sense of hopelessness…

It really wasn’t about the cat…
Yet it was…

The innocent, the forsaken, everything out there lost and alone…

It really wasn’t about the cat…
Yet it was…

And so it is…in life…you hit rock bottom…can’t take another step…reach out…grab a hand…move forward…

Which broken hearted kitty loving me did…that husband and I finding an HEB, buying kitten food and a dish for water vowing to do whatever we can to make this world…a better place…
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And this husband of mine…agrees…

Speaking of connection…this husband and I…

Went to IHOP for breakfast…the place all hustley bustley…fuller than full…people talking…children laughing…

Were making quips about Beavis and Butt-Head…one of our new unfortunate obsessions…when a voice says, “Is that a Hawkeye hat?”…

Indeed it was…that infamous hat…always on the head of this old man…always drawing attention down here in the South caught the eye of a former student of the University of Iowa…

And not just any former student but an award winning student…two time Big Ten Wrestling Championship champ kind of student who lives in Germany but is in Texas to see his sister…

Such a small world…such a small, small world…

Chatted awhile…he sharing his story…amazing really…book worthy…success, adventure, heartbreak, love…mentioned a former girlfriend who…drumroll please…just happened to be from our Iowa home town…

Such a small world…such a small, small world…

Parted ways with him saying, “Google me,” so of course a curious old gal did…didn’t have to tell her twice…and googled the former girlfriend from Muskie City, too…

Maybe we know her…maybe we’ve met her…maybe there’s some connection since that husband of mine has lived in the town for almost 60 years…

And there was a connection…IS a connection…but not in the way one would think…

That woman from Muskie City…former girlfriend of that wrestling champ from New York who came to Iowa for college who now lives in Germany but came to Texas to vote and see his sister who enjoys an occasional breakfast at the newly remodeled IHOP…

Was married for 24 years to the first cousin of that mother of mine…

Such a small world…such a small, small world…

Freaky almost…
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And that husband of mine…agrees…

This husband and I…

Took our annual trip to the Historic Market Square…love the colors…love the shops…love the fish tacos at the cute little restaurant there…

Perused the vendors…admired the Lucha Libre toys…again with the wrestling action figures…resisted the ring that came with four wrestlers…

The place was quiet, void of patrons, which was odd…maybe because it was Monday…maybe because it’s winter…not sure why, but shopping went quickly…

So thrifters us headed to the Goodwill store and what to my wondering eyes should I see?…a mug…the Hawaiian mug from 1997 traveler me bought as a souvenir at Hilo Hattie’s in Honolulu…

Of course it wasn’t THE mug…that mug is tucked in the cupboard waiting for that oldest daughter of mine to visit…because it’s her favorite…the one she always uses when she comes home…

But we connected, that Goodwill mug and shopper me…her owner and I like two ships in the night…same year, same shop, same beautiful hibiscus mug…

And so it is…in life…we are all connected in some way, somehow…can’t always see it, don’t always know it…but it’s there…

In who we are…in what we believe…in what we stand for…in our faith…in our action…in our choices…

And maybe even in that little Hilo Hattie-from-Honolulu-coffee-mug-bought-in-1997 who now, so sadly, needs a new home…
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And that daughter of mine…agrees…