Texas Playwright Chick

Birthday!

2011-11-21T23:15:00.000-06:00

So, it is my birthday. Again. How does this keep happening? I'm now 30 years old (HA, FIFTY!).

Oh, my.....

Peace: Karen Stolz & Her World of Pies

2011-10-06T13:26:00.003-05:00

World of Pies, by Karen Stolz is the BEST book I've read in a long time. I read it in 2010 and loved it so much. Myself, a playwright, I'm very particular - okay, I'm extremely FINICKY- about things like plots, characterization, believable dialogue, etc. But Karen's book was truly marvelous... I decided to do something I don't often do - I went to the author's website to put in a comment about her work. When I got there, the website was not current and thus, would not allow me leave a comment. But, I did find an email for Karen Stolz there.

So, I emailed her my comment.

So, she answered my email!

I was stunned, truly amazed. Never did I imagine she would take the time to reply to my comment on her wonderful read! Not only did she reply, but she gave me her personal email address & we exchanged a couple of emails discussing writing. She said that she was thrilled to receive my email, especially at that time, because she was working on a new project with a collaborator and was finding it difficult. She said that my 'high praise' (seriously, I gushed in my original email to her - you have to read this book!) came at just the right time, she needed the encouragement. Wow!

I wrote Karen that I had cried as I read the last chapter of World of Pies, not because something terrible was happening, but because the pages were coming to an end and I wanted it to go on! She said she had cried while she was writing those last pages. Funny, so connected to someone I've never met.

This is why I cried again last week when I found out that Karen had passed away on June 15th, 2011. I cried for days, longing for someone that I've never met face-to-face, but that made a huge impact on me, nonetheless. Ah, the Internet and the relationships it makes possible! I had gone to her website to see if she'd completed her new novel....low and behold....*gulp*....there were birth & death dates! I got very still as I read about her, tears slipping down my cheeks as though I'd lost the very closest of friends.

I'm so sad that this marvelous author (and her future novels) are gone from our green earth! I am also sad for her students and those future writers she would inspire (she was a teacher of creative writing and literature too).

If you haven't read World of Pies (my favorite!) or Fanny and Sue by Karen Stolz - please read them. You will find in those pages, wonderful characters and a lovely world.

Peace be with you, Karen Stolz.

Ciao for Niao,
Playwright Chick

The Naughty List, Zelda Fitzgerald and Other Stuff!

2011-09-29T15:25:00.000-05:00

It's great to be busy - especially doing what I love! But, it does tend to keep me away from my blog a lot. So, just to catch up a bit...here are the top 5 things on my plate.

1) I've been asked to speak about acting and playwriting at a local middle school in Houston! I'm very excited about this, mostly because I LOVE LOVE LOVE to share what I do - and also, because I love to share what I do with kids. They are fertile minds and keep me on my toes! For me, playwriting and performing go hand in hand. I simply cannot do one without the other - the creativity of one feeds the other and vice-versa. The reason: because one idea grows into another! Ideas breed ideas, it's just that simple.

2) I'm gearing up for my holiday show & I'm doing a whole new show this year too! Whew, lots of work to get it written, rehearsed, production values in place & out the door by Thanksgiving week, however it's always worth it. This year, I'm writing a play called The Naughty List. Here's my performance site: http://www.storyplays.blogspot.com/ You can see the synopsis of the play on the left side. IF you live in Texas and are interested in booking for your school, library or day care, contact info is on that site.

3) Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald - I've spoken about her & my one woman play about her on my blog before HERE. So, I'm finally getting to this script, and why? Because there's a fantastic festival called New Seeds Festival. Their mission: To present art from female perspectives on socially relevant issues. To serve as a catalyst for a spirited dialogue between artist and audience. The festival is dedicated to providing an opportunity for female performing artists to showcase and collaborate their original work. Hello! This works so nicely for my Zelda script. So, I'm off to the races, must prepare application, including a performance cutting of the script (which is still a WIP - work-in-progress for those that don't know) for youtube or send via a DVD for their Jury to view. Deadline, Oct. 15th, so this is ambitious, but still, I really must make it work!

4) Getting last two summer youth plays done at my summer gig, together for publishing. Only, I'm going a different way this time....I'm going to try publishing them on Kindle. This may be tricky, but there are other plays on Kindle. Though I do LOVE my publisher very much, I want to experiment with Kindle...so, stay tuned. I'll report on my experiences using Kindle publishing as I work on it - this should be interesting, to say the least!

5) I'm still working on getting an agent strictly for my voice overs. No word yet, shucks!

That's the top five things on my plate right now, a full plate! You should see the full salad bowl sitting next to that plate! I'm busy, but I love it.

QUESTION: WHAT'S ON YOUR PLATE - HOW ARE YOU STAYING BUSY & ENJOYING YOUR CREATIVE LIFE?

Ciao for Niao! Texas Playwright Chick

Well, I'm Back....and BUSY!

2011-09-07T12:06:00.005-05:00

It's good to be busy, yes it is! Here's what I've been working on...(of course, that is in addition to getting SuperKid ready for school - whew!)...

My Voice Over Demo! Cheryl Duffin Voice-Overs

Esperanza Summer Camp Theatre! Esperanza Theatre

New Storytelling Performances! Storytelling Plays for Kids

I'll check back in by the end of the week.

Ciao for Niao! Playwright Chick

A Little Treat...

2011-07-26T19:35:00.000-05:00

Last year, my husband, artist Stephen Duffin, painted a mural on the back of the stage where I teach a summer theatre class. We do a play every year - luckily, the mural works for a couple of the scenes for this years play too! Yippee! Enjoy this, extremely short, video (I took it with photos on my iPhone!).
Ciao for Niao! Playwright Chick!

Busy, Busy, Busy....

2011-07-22T08:58:00.000-05:00

This summer we moved to a new house.....still unpacking that! And then my summer performances started - travel, perform, travel, perform! And now in the throes of directing my show at the summer kids camp! All fun - all great - all time consuming!

I'll be back very soon though - for now, see a few of the photos of my kids rehearsing for the summer show by skipping on over to http://www.esperanzatheatre.blogspot.com/ to see what we're up to!

Ciao for Niao! Playwrightchick

Busy Writing

2011-05-03T00:40:00.000-05:00

We'll.....as in 'I'....will be right back! I'm busy writing that screenplay! Seriously, the second Magic Man (my fantastic husband) leaves for work each day, I head to my office with a cup of coffee and my trusty companion, the 86 lb labrador, Trilby. I turn on the computer, open Celtx, open the script, and begin to type, type, type!!!!

So, I'll put a proper blog entry up on Wednesday - promise! Meanwhile, Trilby and I....well...

We'll Be Right Back!

Ciao for Niao! Texas Playwright Chick

Typewriters: The End of an Era!

2011-04-27T12:02:00.000-05:00

       Let me introduce you to the typwriter perched on the left. It's my grandmother's old Royal typewriter from her and my grandaddy's home office. He sold insurance and my grandmother acted as his secretary from their home office. I remember her tap-tappity-tapping on the Royal. What a glorious sound! It made me want to type too! So Nanu (that's what we called her) would put a piece of paper (sometimes with carbon and a 2nd sheet - I was a lucky girl!) in and let me tippity-tap away...young and unable to really type, I pretended that I was writing stories!

       The old Royal now sits retired and tired on a bookcase in my living room, but it drips fresh memories of my grandparent's home office and my first forays into writing. I'm sure many of you around my age also have memories of your first experience with an actual typewriter. I remember one of my first real jobs where I used an IBM Selectric typewriter - such a long way from the old Royal. I was super excited when my boss ordered me an IBM Selectric II (because it had a correction button)!!!

       When the actual computer came out, it was truly remarkable that we'd ever made do with typewriters. However, without the typewriter, we'd never have graduated to computers! YEA!

       It is with all this in mind that I salute the typewriter, for it deserves our respect and a place of honor in history. One day ago, according to Yahoo, Google and all the rest, the last typewriter rolled off the assembly line as the "last standing typewriter factory in the world, Godrej and Boyce, is closing its plant in Mumbai, India." I found on the Huffington Post this morning, however, that typewriters are still be ing made. According to the Huff, "Contrary to previous accounts, it seems that the typewriters are still rolling off of assembly lines. According to an interview Minyanville conducted with an employee at Swintec, a typewriter maker, the company is still making the devices. Minyanville writes, However, as ubiquitous as iPads (and, to a lesser extent, Xooms and PlayBooks) may be, the typewriter is "far from dead," Ed Michael, General Manager of Sales at Moonachie, NJ-based Swintec, tells us. And he adds [Godrej] and Boyce is far from the last company in the world making the machines. "We have manufacturers making typewriters for us in China, Japan, Indonesia," Michael says.

       Regardless of whether a few are actually still in production or not - it is the end of an era! The computer, iPad, and everything else that will pop up in the near future as modern day contraptions to make our life easier, will prevail. So, while I'm a bit of a modern-day-gadget-gal -- also known as a tech or gadget junkie -- I feel nostalgic for that old Royal...and the IBM Selectric II as well.

Farewell, I will forget thee not, typewriter! For you first lit the fire in my soul that made me want to run my fingers quickly over a keyboard, tippity-tapping out a story and finding such satisfaction in the clippity-clapping of those keys across a blank page.

*heart* Ciao for Niao - Texas Playwright Chick

RAISE UP to a more creative self (beat those procratinating blues)!

2011-04-25T11:33:00.000-05:00

Reignite your creative energy! Steps to R.A.I.S.E U.P to a more creative self!
Beat writer's block
Recognize that something is holding you stagnant, immobilizing your creative self. Unless you stop and take the time to recognize the situation, you’ll likely continue to feel stuck.

Acknowledge to yourself that something is holding you down, causing you to procrastinate, and affecting your ability to be creatively motivated. Is it some sort of emotion? A situation? Possibly you’re dealing with some sort of self-inflicted fear; of success, of failure, of not being good enough, smart enough or, inventive/creative enough.

Inventory your heart. Take some time to feel your emotions. Are you sad? Are you depressed? Are you feeling fear? Are you worried about something in your life that may be stealing your focus? Is there something, or someone, that may be interfering with you feeling joy? Identify what it is and feel these emotions. Go ahead and acknowledge them, you can’t put them aside until you admit they are there. When you acknowledge the problem you take away its power over you because you’ve clarified the issue. If there is something to deal with, then you should do it at this time. If it’s something that you have no control over – then put it aside with the knowledge that you can't change it, you've acknowledged it, and now you're going to let it go.

Socialize with supporters. Get out and go have lunch or tea with a positive, supportive friend. Go have dinner with the family and let them know you’re struggling a bit. (My husband always has inspiring words for me that usually hit home in a positive way. I love to sit with him over a glass of wine for an hour – he has such a positive way of pulling me back to ‘creative’. I don’t call him Magic Man for nothing, you know.)

Eliminate the clutter! You deserve a lovely and inspiring work area/office. Make it inviting to your creative self. If it is messy; clean it, organize it, or rearrange it! Move the furniture, dust the trinkets, steam clean the carpet, or change the curtains. Paint if you must! But change that energy! Changing the energy in your workspace will change the energy in your creative self too! It’s a symbiotic relationship, so honor it.

Unstick yourself! Now that you’ve cleared the cobwebs in your office, you need to do it in your creative self too. So leave your newly cleaned/organized workspace and take some time to feel happy. Create some joy for yourself! What does this look like for you; music that you can dance wildly to, perhaps a swim in a pool, a walk, an afternoon read? Whatever it is for you, just do it! (Nike, anyone?) Finding some JOY and CHEER will change your attitude. It will be the ultimate tool that will unstick you from your stasis and complete the realignment of you with your creative energy!

Plug yourself back into your work space. Walk into your space and bring the joy – the positive attitude – with you. Take a moment to feel your cleansed workspace. Immerse yourself in the fresh energy, soak it up! Your workspace and your creative self should be transformed and ready for creative business. Have a lovely cup of tea in the renewed space, congratulate yourself on the transformation and feel in your soul how much you deserve this wonderful space to be creative. Now, sit very still….feel that creative energy building?

Get to work, my friends! YOU are a puma ready to pounce! YOU are an engine ready to race! YOU are a creative dynamo!

Do YOU feel ready to rumble? What other things can you -- or do you -- do to RAISE UP to your more creative self?

Ciao for Niao! Texas Playwright Chick

Playwright vs Playwrite

2011-04-22T12:00:00.059-05:00

I often see people incorrectly write the term playwright as playwrite. There is a difference that should be understood. A playwright, is someone who writes plays, crafts dramas. In fact, the suffix 'wright' means 'one who works with'. A playwright, is one who works with plays.

The Action of Writing as an Antidote to Procrastination

2011-04-20T12:58:00.001-05:00

Celtx software screen

Action and Procrastination aren't truly defined as antonyms - but think on this little nugget:

The antonym, or exact opposite of Action is Inaction. And a synonym for Inaction is in fact, Procrastination. (Ta Da!)

Yesterday, as I promised myself, I had a little ME time at the computer. YEA! Well, actually, I had a LOT of time...I spent 5 hours working on the screenplay yesterday! (I'll be adding a few pages to the top ticker above.) I went all the way back through the first few pages -- which prompted a lot of research on characters, speaking styles & location -- then wrote a few new pages. I solved some issues that will help the story as I move forward with the writing. I was feeling stuck, but taking action got me going again!

When I'm feeling stuck in place, held down by procrastination, Showing Up at the Page always works for me. And it'll work for you too, whether you're writing a play, novel, essay, poetry, or anything else...Show Up at the Page! It's the only way to move forward. Taking that action - turning on the computer, opening your writing program (I use Celtx for plays & screenplays), and simply beginning the actual (physical) act of writing - will break the most difficult cycle of procrastination. (Writer's block, anyone? - is it real, or is it self imposed procrastination? Something to think about, eh?)

Procrastination is "to put off intentionally and habitually". It's a habit, and it's an intentional one...therefore, change your intention by taking some action. Kick the habit of procrastination by TAKING ACTION and your writing will flourish!!!

What are your personal tricks for breaking a cycle of procrastination? Share with us in the comments.

Ciao for Niao - Texas Playwright Chick

My OWN Script Frenzy!

2011-04-18T21:15:00.000-05:00

So, that published script that I'm trying to flip into a screenplay?...yeah, uh, I've been sidetracked by LIFE! All good stuff though... Anywho...I'm only 4.5 pages into the screenplay (see the little chart above that shows my progress, um, lack of progress?...yeah, it's stuck at a very low number, eh?). *sigh* That's because I've been so busy I haven't taken time for ME! And taking time for me, means Showing Up At The Page (my trusty computer) and writing.

A blogger/playwright pal - Mary Aalgaard at Play Off the Page - recently emailed me that she signed up for Script Frenzy. Script Frenzy is a yearly International event that challenges writers to write 100 pages in 30 days. So, you sign up (it's free!) and for the entire month of April, you write like the dedicated writer you wanna be, hope to be and wish you were....it's pretty cool!

Well, though I did sign up (LATE!) for Script Frenzy with the over ambitious hope that I would be able to write and catch up with the Script Frenzy peeps....I remained sidelined. BUT, I've decided to have my own SCRIPT FRENZY!

So, tomorrow (April 19th) I'll be showing up at the Page to WRITE WRITE WRITE my way through this play-to-screenplay flip! I plan on entering this screenplay into the 2011 Austin Screenplay Competition, the deadline being May 15th (June 1st for late entries)....so, I gotta get my 'busy' on and have my own Script Frenzy! A flurry of writing needs to happen and fast!

What's your current project and are you showing up at the page?

Ciao for Niao - Texas Playwright Chick

Playwriting Gig(s)!

2011-04-13T10:56:00.000-05:00

      Sorry to have missed Monday...and last Friday too! It is the Lenten season, that time of year that I'm busy writing for a steady playwriting gig that I have had for 5 years. I have a couple of these types of gigs during the year.
      GIG #1:   During Lent, I write 3-5 plays that are 15-30 minutes for St. Andrew's Episcopal in the Heights. They have a yearly Wednesday night Lenten Soup Supper series where they serve soup & perform a short play that is Lent related. They are regular folks, not trained actors, but they have a jolly time performing the shows and truly do a great job. I try to keep the plays on the comic side, though with a specific message that will lead to discussion. This is the last week (5th) of the season, so tonight is the last performance. Whew! (NOTE: This is a non-paying gig, but has given me great exposure and lots of practice & feedback from actual audience members!)
      GIG #2:   Another playwriting gig I've had for 10 years (this summer will be my 11th year!) is at a Summer Camp for kids. Esperanza School in Houston has a wonderful Summer Camp and I was able to jump on board with them. Over a decade ago I approached them about offering a summertime ancillary: Theatre! They agreed and the rest is history! During June, I teach the 3-5th graders acting, improv, make-up, voice/diction. This gives me time to assess their individual talent, dedication and strengths. Then July comes around and, based on the summer theme for that year, I write an hour play with roles for every child that wants to perform. The kids do a remarkable job and take their roles quite seriously. It has always come out fantastic and the parents are always thrilled to see, even the shyest child, up there with a fully established character, lines memorized, walking, talking, PERFORMING! (NOTE: This is a PAYING GIG that has given me TONS of exposure and feedback from actual audience members!)

      Now - if you're not getting your plays produced yet, create your own gig! What communities are you involved with that may be interested in you writing something specific for them to perform? Make sure that when people you meet ask you what you do, proudly say that you are a PLAYWRIGHT, or WRITER...whatever it is, say it proudly! You just never know where a gig will pop up! What's your current WRITING GIG and how did you get it?

Ciao for Niao, Texas Playwright Chick

Writing 101

2011-04-06T12:00:00.062-05:00

Get those feet wet!

How do you start writing? How is it possible to sit down and write a WHOLE play (book/screenplay)? How can I become a writer? Where do I start? Is there a secret to writing?

Just a few of the questions I get asked from time to time. It can be overwhelming if you want to write, but never have. Well, the answer is overly simply, a secret that only writers, artists and other creatives seem to know. Here it is, ready?

Just start! Jump in, get those feet wet! Just Start??!! HUH??

I don't mean to sound like a Nike commercial, but JUST DO IT! No one can start a play, book, essay, journal, screenplay, poem, or frankly, anything in their life, without just showing up and 'doing it'!

It's Writing 101, really. Writers like to call it 'Showing up at the page.' That means, sit down at your computer, typewriter, or paper with pen, and begin to fill up that blank page. You can't write if you don't start putting down words.

Some people walk through an art gallery, look at a cool painting and say, "Gee, I could do that! Ha! For the price they're asking, I should do it!" Funny thing is, those folks usually don't go out, buy the paints & canvas, then sit down and actually try to paint. It's the same with writing - if you don't actually make the effort to start, you never will be a writer.

My favorite college professor, Sam Havens - who was my playwriting professor, of course! - said to me once, "It's just paper, not cement. Don't be afraid to put it down, paper erases!" That was really on the cusp of desktop computers, so now it's easier than ever to erase! Delete, rearrange, edit, edit, edit! BUT, you can't do any of that if you don't show up at the page and get those tootsies wet! (I love a good mixed metaphor!) Good or bad, write like you want it - but you have to start by sitting down at the computer and turning it on! Now, go do that. Yes, right now! Go write a sentence, start with just one....

Ciao for Niao! Texas Playwright Chick

Reconsider, Refocus & Revamp!!!

2011-04-05T14:02:00.004-05:00

Dancing in the sparkle of a new day!

           There is so little time these days! It's hard to get to the computer to write, much less blog. In addition to writing & blogging, I'm also a mom to SuperKid, wife to Magic Man, professional children's performer (one-woman plays at libraries and daycares), Summer Camp Theatre Director & Playwright-in-Residence, Voice Over Artist...and to add to all that, we just moved into a fantastic new house! (still unpacking!) So, after much consideration, I've come to realize that I need to streamline my life so I can get my writing done. This includes, of course, my blog here at PLAYWRIGHTCHICK.com.
          Initially, I started this blog because I not only wanted to share some of my writing in the form of essays & short plays, but also tips and thoughts on writing. But, as an avid reader of other bloggers, I became enchanted with their funny, insightful, slice-of-life, crafty blogging exploits and sidetracked myself! I loved those blogs - still do! I wanted to do that too, so my blog quickly morphed into something similar. I've realized though, that my need to actually WRITE and to write about WRITING, especially PLAYWRITING, has floated to the surface and I need to be, well....ME!!
          Therefore, I'm refocusing and revamping my blog to be about WRITING! TA-DA! I'm going to get back to the basics, my basics! I know that there are a lot of would-be/wanna be playwrights and writers out there, so it's time to share what I know, what I've learned, what I'm still learning and what I want to learn.
          I am dancing in the sparkly light of a new day and ready to hunker down at my computer and do what I do! So, if you're interested in writing, are a writer, or simply wish to be a writer - come along! I still promise to do my best to be amusing - but I will be more focused on the craft of writing. I will still put up an occasional essay, short story or other type of writing for your entertainment...and comments. However, there will also be a multitude of info designed to inform, edify, encourage and inspire!

Ciao for Niao! Texas Playwright Chick

Texas Schools Budget Cuts - WHERE is the Texas Lottery money?

2011-03-08T12:01:00.002-06:00

Seriously, show me the MONEY! If I remember correctly, one of the main selling points of Texas starting up a Lottery was that it would FUND OUR PUBLIC EDUCATION SYSTEM in Texas! Since we have no actual state tax here - it was a BIG selling point for sure! Truth is, the first couple of years of the Texas Lottery, nothing went into our Education System. Truth is, the Lottery only generates about $1 Billion annually for our schools. Truth is, our budget is billions more than that! And, truth is, the Lottery isn't a magic pill.

A few years ago, there were billboards all over Houston - most likely all over Texas - proclaiming that the Texas Lottery had pumped more than $8 BILLION dollars into our public school systems in Texas at that time (2006 or so). Actually, it comes down to about $1 Billion a year. (This sounds great, doesn't it? But, alas, it's but a small portion of what we use every year - it's a drop in the bucket.) Here's the breakdown: 28% of the proceeds of the Texas Lottery goes directly into our Education System here in Texas. The other amounts are set aside for prize money, retail payments and 2% for unclaimed prizes, which gets to be used for 'general State spending'. (Gee, seems like that should also go into Education, not general spending - SNAP!)

STILL - even with Lottery sales helping to fund public education in Texas, our budgetary needs far exceed our Lottery contributions. We need more money. The Lottery idea may have inadvertently misled some folks into thinking it would take care of all our educational woes...I was living in Illinois at the time, so I don't know the specifics, just what I've read on the web. But, the taxpayers really carry the bulk of the tab on this, and taxpayer and Lottery contributions together just aren't enough.

Now the Texas Schools are in a budget crisis - a BIG BUDGET CRISIS - and they are slashing the budget and cutting Texas teachers and programs. I cannot believe this is the right answer! Our classrooms are already full! Cut teachers and the classrooms will overflow! The teachers will have to spend more time disciplining than teaching! (NO!)

I don't know what the answer is - I wish I had a solution to offer. I know that one Texas Lawmaker is proposing a 2% raise in sales tax. In Houston we already pay 8.25% and this would raise us to a whopping 10.25%! (YIKES! - *gulp*) But I have a kid in school, so I'll do whatever it takes to keep our Texas schools from backsliding including a 2% hike in sales tax....which is what these severe cuts will cause! School closures - Program cuts - Teacher cuts - Magnet funds redistribution...and the list goes on and on and it's not pretty! It's very ugly and extremely disheartening!

HISD (Houston Independent School District) has some pretty darn good teachers, I must say. Oh, we've run across a bad apple or two, as you would in any profession - but overall, HISD truly has some wonderfully talented, caring, passionate teachers! And to begin with, they don't get paid nearly enough for what they do and what they put up with. Now, we're going to close schools and cut teachers and programs? I can't take it!

Start a STATE TAX! Hike the SALES TAX! Do something, anything, BUT DON'T CLOSE OUR SCHOOLS AND CUT OUR TEACHERS!!! I truly do not believe this is the answer! We need more money to continue - let's get the money, let's make the money, let's find, allocate and beg, borrow and...okay, I'm morally against stealing the money....but let's FIND THE MONEY IT TAKES and do what we have to do!

Buckle up, Texas, it's going to be a bumpy ride! But, we are TEXANS! We can do this! SAVE THE SCHOOLS! SAVE OUR TEACHERS! And in doing so, we will be SAVING OUR KIDS! This is a call to action! Go to the meetings - sign the petitions - pound the pavements - write the letters - propose solutions (if know of one, don't keep it to yourself)!

We can't afford our schools and teachers? Bull Sh*t! (WHAT'D YOU SAY?) You heard the first time, don't make me repeat it, 'cause my mama & my MIL reads this blog! We simply cannot afford to SKIMP on our kids!

KHOU story - [HERE]
2006 Houston Chronicle explanation of Texas Lottery - [HERE]
2010 Houston Chronicle, Grier's explanation of Magnet funds redistribution - [HERE]
2010 Various Texas District plans - [HERE]

Now - gotta go meditate to calm down. Ohmmm...Ciao for Niao! Playwright Chick

Droughts in Amazon Rainforests!

2011-02-07T17:41:00.003-06:00

What in the world does a drought in an Amazon rainforest have to do with my writing???

LOTS!

          The stageplay - Survival of Ukocono - which I'm currently converting into a screenplay, takes place in an Amazon rainforest. Naturally, I'm doing a lot of extra research on rainforests & conservation,etc., so driving down the road listening to NPR this afternoon, my ears perked up when a story came on about a drought in the Amazon rainforest.
          Apparently, droughts in the rainforest are rare and the Amazon is subject to a drought about once every 100 years....in fact, there was a drought in the Amazon rainforest in 2005. However -- and this is the SCARY part -- the Amazon rainforest had ANOTHER drought just this last year!!!!!

          This is just not good for our climate, our planet or my peace of mind...hop on over to NPR to read the story in full. [NPR LINK HERE]

          I surely hope I'm not busy writing about something that won't exist in a few decades - very sad to think about!
Ciao for Niao! Playwright Chick

Flipping a Stage Play into a Screenplay...

2011-02-02T11:19:00.000-06:00

That's my biggest project right now and my, oh, my how it consumes the brain! Survival of Ukocono is a play that I had published a few years ago with Brooklyn Publishers. It's a youth play and has gotten some pretty good feedback.

It's a comedy with a global conservation message - a rainforest comedy, if you will (tee hee). How do you make global conservation funny? Well, I've been told again and again that I'm a 'quirky' writer....somehow I manage.

Anyway - I'm flipping Survival of Ukocono into a screenplay....I think it would make a wonderful animated movie. So, here's the challenge: I want to have it completed in time to submit the script to the AUSTIN SCREENPLAY COMPETITION, deadline May 15th. So, I'm gonna put one of those crazy tracker bars at the top of the blog- please root for me, cheer me on! I'll even put in a few short cuttings of the script from time to time for you to get a peek.

I do have high hopes for this script. Have YOU ever had high hopes for a piece of writing you were working on? Did you feel excited, anxious, discouraged? I'd like to hear from YOU! Comments below, thanks ya'll!

(DRAMA TEACHER NOTE: If you happen to be a Drama (Theatre/Theater) teacher for youth and would like to read the actual stageplay - it's available at Brooklyn Publishers where you can order the script, or even read a preview section. I also have other youth plays listed there specific to forensic competitions too, so check them out HERE!)

Ciao for niao! Texas Playwright Chick

LIFE IS A BUSY BUGGER!

2011-01-16T23:40:00.001-06:00

  Life Happens!
    Yep, life is a busy bugger, isn't it? We can let time slip away from us without knowing we're doing it - even if you're trying to consciously monitor it. I try to do that....consciously monitor my life. I try to make sure that I'm doing all I can...staying in the moment. Making the best of every day.
       You know that saying?...."Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.".....John Lennon's song Beautiful Boy. Anyway, life can also be what happens when you're so busy you can't see straight!
       Well, that's what's happened. I've been so busy I haven't been able to see straight...much less blog! But, I'm back! And am up to all kinds of things too! So, check back to get the scoop!

Summing up Summer...

2010-08-15T22:30:00.002-05:00

I've been so busy I've hardly had time to breathe...yet alone blog. Oh, but I miss blogging! This summer I performed my one-woman play Red Riding Rude at Libraries and Day Cares, taught theatre to 2nd - 7th graders at Summer Camp, wrote and directed a play for the 4th - 5th graders big summer production - which was a huge success, YAY, much praise from parents - choreographed and directed the 2nd & 3rd graders in a Mime show - yes, Mime! What? It was funny! - and set up our new theatre space (which believe me, was no small task, and needs still MORE done to it before next summer)! Also, I'm taking voice over lessons, which is so much fun and feeds my 'actor self' some new nourishment. WHEW! I'm totally beat!

But, I was just dying to say hello to you all and to put up a blog (first in some time now)! So, HELLO to all of you! I'm back, or will be this week. AND, here's the blog....although just a blurb of a blog, but still, here it is! SO, while you're waiting for me to come back...here's a little something to read. I've posted it before and it lives in the sidebar of my blog. It'll make you laugh, so be VEWY, VEWYcareful if you're sipping something hot or something fizzy, as I've been told some folks have inadvertently snorted beverages through their noses while laughing at it...it's all about my mom, The Shirley. I've been trying to decide lately if these essays are a play, a book....or what exactly. So, feel free to comment. Ta-ta for now! (oh, and links to Diary of a Madcap Mama (also known as The Shirley) are below, in case you're too tired, too lazy or too drunk on Texas Hill Country wine to find it (kidding, of course!) on the sidebar.

Diary of a Madcap Mama - Part 1
Diary of a Madcap Mama - Part 2
Diary of a Madcap Mama - Part 3

Crazy, Busy Summer....

2010-07-18T16:35:00.000-05:00

.....has got me on the run! Hope your SUMMER is going great - mine is super busy...but I will be back soon!

Stay COOL!

Shiner, Texas!

2010-05-21T19:18:00.000-05:00

The Cleanest Little City in Texas!

Cuero, Texas

2010-05-14T22:19:00.001-05:00

Cuero, Texas, home of the Turkey Trot!

Cuero Courthouse, originally completed in 1896

Recently completed restoration!

Click HERE for this amazing photo of Cuero's Turkey Trot in 1912 - nearly one hundred years ago! WOW - look at all those TURKEYS!!!

Playwright Chick Train Getting Back on Track!

2010-05-12T10:45:00.001-05:00

Whoooo-whooooo...=========

I know, I know....been gone for a while now! I've been taking care of a baby (4 mos. now), we'll call her LADYBUG, and it's been demanding, rewarding and busy-keeping! Whew, it's been twelve years since I took care of a beebee! But, this is a wonderful way to 'have' a baby....she goes home at night and her parents have to get up with her. I get paid during the day to love on her, sing to her, tickle her under her cute baby chin! A side note: Oooo, she smells so yummy! Love breathing in the smell of baby - smells like the Fountain of Youth! mmmmm.....

So, trying to get back on track with the blogs, manage baby, finish up some writing deadlines -- which I'll talk about in the blog soon -- and getting ready for my summer camp theatre gig (we get a new theatre and everything, thus LOTS LOTS LOTS to do for that)!

I have been taking notes and photos and have a ton to blog about - so check back! Tomorrow - photos from a recent trip to Cuero, Shiner & Yoakum Texas. I just love small Texas Towns!!!

See you tomorrow! Texas Playwright Chick

The Envelope Please....

2010-02-15T11:32:00.002-06:00

and the WINNER IS....

BUDA, TEXAS!!!

Nominated by Janet M., Buda, Texas (pronounced BEAU-da) is located 17 miles South of Austin and has a population just under 4,000. Buda is considered the 'Outdoor Capital of Texas' and is bursting with small town charm - who knew? Their vintage small town, downtown area has been preserved and is loaded with antique shops.

BEAU-da (ha ha!) also has something unique to it.....are you ready?.....here goes.....

WEINER DOG RACES!!!

....and NO, I'm not kidding! For a video on this fun and spunky anual event click on link below...

Weiner Dog Race Video

SERIOUSLY, I ask you, WHO KNEW??? Buda also boasts several cool events throughout the year, such as the Red, White & Buda (Independance Day celebration), Art After Dark (fine arts festival), Texas Firefighter Festival (with firefighter challenges, BBQ & Texas music) and Budafest (includes parades with floats & local celebs, over 125 artisans & crafters, music galore and enough food to feed the small nation of....well, Buda, Texas!)

Yep, Buda seems to have everything I'm looking for and more! So, Janet M. is the winner of a $25 Amazon Gift Certificate!!! Also, if the screenplay ever gets made into an actual movie - Janet will get a small role in the movie!!! Are you ready for your close-up, Janet?

Thanks to those that participated - I had a super time researching the nominations. I'm also planning a day trip to Buda soon to take in the local color for myself!

See ya'll later! PS - sorry for delay in posting the winner, we were having internet problems yesterday and I kept getting booted off while I was trying to make the blog post.

UDATES on NOMINATIONS for....

2010-02-10T15:57:00.000-06:00

My BIG FAT NAME the TEXAS TOWN CONTEST!!!!

So far, I've received nominations via email, facebook and this blog. It's NOT TOO LATE, however, for you to get your bid in. I'm taking nominations through this Friday at Midnight. You can nominated by leaving it in the COMMENT SECTION at the bottom of this blog entry. Click on the words "COMMENTS HERE" (at the bottom) to make your nomination. ALSO, you can read the 'WHY' I'm taking nominations for Texas towns and what you win if your name is chosen by going to ANNOUNCING....*DRUM ROLL*

NOMINATIONS, thus far, are:

New Braunfels (Erin)

Sweet Water (Rennie)

Mt. Enterprise (Elaine)

Round Top (Tracy)

Buda (Janet)

Hoot'n Holler (LD)

Cut 'n Shoot (Biz)

Helotes (Cap'n Amazings Wife)

Mule Shoe (M.P.)

Comfort (Anon - how can I give you a prize if you win, Anon?)

So, gotta nomination yourself? Make it by leaving it in the Comments section! Hurry, only two days left!

ANNOUNCING......drum roll......

2010-02-06T11:03:00.006-06:00

My BIG FAT NAME THE TEXAS TOWN contest!!!!

Come on all you TEXAS BLOGGING GALS....and Gents too....help me name the Texas town to be used in my screenplay for fun and prizes!

FIRST - TELL me about YOUR town! Leave a comment NOMINATING your Texas town (or a Texas town you love) & tell me why YOUR town would be the best place for this movie to be set!

SECOND - SEND me a jpeg or two if you got 'em! (playwrightchick [@] gmail [dot] com) This isn't required, but would be helpful - would love to have a pic of your downtown area & one of an interesting house. If you can't send a jpeg (photo) then send me an address or two and I'll Google Earth them to have a look around your town.

THIRD - YOU are allowed to nominate ONLY ONE Texas town.

*I'm particularly interested in towns under 100,000 - in fact, a town of 10,000 would be great, but whatever the population, it has to have a look and feel of a small Texas town!

FABULOUS PRIZES!!!

$25 Gift Card to AMAZON!

A Cameo in the Movie

(this of course, is pending actually being lucky enough to get

it made and YES I am just that brazen to dream that big!

This IS Texas, afterall, where everything's bigger -
even DREAMS!)

SO - LEAVE THOSE COMMENTS TO NOMINATE YOUR TEXAS TOWN - OR A TEXAS TOWN! You have ONE WEEK to nominate! Nominations close next

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 12th at midnight!
I will announce the WINNER next

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 14th (Valentines Day)
in the afternoon by 5pm!
SO GET BUSY!

NOTE: Winning the contest does not guarantee that if the movie gets made, it will actually get to be shot in your winning town - only that the movie will be 'set' in your town. A location scout may choose a different place to shoot. Example: Groundhog Day takes place in Puxataney, PA...however the movie was actually shot in Woodstock, Il. HOWEVER, if the movie does get made - you, personally, are guaranteed a cameo in it!

ALSO: Friends & Family are eligible for this contest - BUT, your entry will be treated like everyone elses!!!

GOOD luck TEXAS BLOGGERS! AND.....GOOOOOOOOoooooooooo........

YEEHAAAWWWW!

Characters and The Announcement of Special Upcoming Announcement...(tee hee!)...

2010-02-05T23:22:00.002-06:00

Lots of 'characters' hanging around my workspace waiting to be named. I usually start naming the major characters before I begin writing. Other smaller roles will pop up here and there as I write and I name them as I go....but the principal roles, I take the time to name & define up front.

Then, I write a Character Plot - which is a list of characters, their names, relationship to other characters & main traits and/or background info about their lives.

SO, that's what I've been busy doing! AND NOW for my announcement about the special upcoming...*giggle*....announcement.

TOMORROW....I will be announcing a CONTEST! A BIG FAT contest for TEXAN bloggers to help me with something very special on this screenplay.

CHECK back TOMORROW for the specifics & the prize! THIS will be special....and I think you may have a bit of fun helping me out on this one.

SO - check in tomorrow for my...big FAT announceMENT! See ya'll later!

I've Been Writing....but...

2010-02-04T13:16:00.001-06:00

....it was a very slow start! Many obstacles fell off the shelf of life and blocked my path to the computer - however, I may have tripped, but I am not down for the count! A couple days ago my muse stuck out her glittery foot and tripped me. I landed in a heap at the foot of my computer keyboard (not a bad place to land when you are a writer).

MY GOAL: To finish the first draft of the script no later than the end of February!

Not possible, you say? Ah, but it is! I tend to be a fast writer! Very fast, indeed. But, then I go back and craft, rewrite, sculpt the script. James Michener is quoted as saying, "I'm not a very good writer, but I'm an excellent rewriter." I've never been afraid of the blank page, so getting that first draft out is usually not the hard part for me.

So, as you can see above (cute little hearts!) , I have installed a page counter. WHY a page counter and not a word counter, you may ask? Especially since some of you write books and those are counted by words....but....

A screenplay -- like a stage play -- is counted by pages. This is the measurement we use for this type of writing. The reason is that a screenplay or stage play is counted in minutes. You cannot have a 500 page screenplay - that would amount to a 500 minute movie!!! YIKES-A-MUNDO! Thus, we count one page per minute of performance.

So, we count screenplays and stage plays by the page, thereby giving us an approximate idea of minutes. The typical movie can run anywhere from 90 minutes to 120 minutes. Thus, my script will be anywhere from 90 to 120 pages. Since I don't know at this point exactly when the story will wrap itself up, I will estimate approximately 100 pages. It could end up a few less or a bit more....we'll see!

In any case, OFF I GO! Tip-tap-tip-tap on the computer keyboard. Hot tea at my side, trusty 80 pound writing companion at my feet (Trilby the Wonder Dog, of course!).

And so, I am away! "Magic is afoot!" ~ Shakespeare

Taaa-Daaaah!!!

2010-01-21T22:18:00.001-06:00

(to the left, my trusty laptop keyboard. You can see how much I write [LOTS] because the E is missing, the N is almost gone and the H is starting to lose the battle - but a good sign that I'm a write-a-holic!)

NOW: Yesterday morning, as I was in Super Kid's room trying to hurry him along so he wouldn't be late to school, I stopped in his doorway and stared at his drum. (Friends at church just gifted him a snare drum) A story came rushing in so quickly that as soon as the boys left I grabbed up a notepad and started scribbling furiously!

When I was done, I read back through it and questioned....is it a play? (I'm a playwright) Nah, too many locations & complicated blocking, so I don't think it is. A book? Possibly...maybe a YA novel....but, I think it may be a SCREENPLAY. Think How to Eat Fried Worms - think Wynn Dixie - think Firehouse Dog. Okay, two of those have dogs in them and mine does not, but I digress. SOooooo......I'm going to work on a screenplay and.....

.....I'm going to do something really BRAVE and paste one of those word count do-hickies (what is the proper spelling of 'do-hicky', anyway? Anyone?) on my blog so I....and the whole rest of the planet....can see my progress. I've seen them on other writer's sites, and when I see them I always think, Holy Writer's-block, Batman, that's a brave & terrifying thing to do! Paste your project up there for EVERYONE to see....to mock, prod and goad you into moving on. Especially those who know you! (Hi Mom & Hi MoMM!)

Did you write today? How about today? What about today? A-A-A-A-Ah!!! BUT.....I'm going to suck it up, as they say - whoever they are - and paste it up there!

I plan on starting Monday (going out of town this weekend with our church vestry, so this weekend is a no go - but on Monday, I'm on it).

Although I mostly write for the stage (and Yes, I am published - peeps always ask that next), I've worked on another screenplay, but lost steam. I'm hoping that jumping on this one quickly, and hanging myself out to dry with the word count do-hicky (seriously, how do you spell that word?), that I can get the first draft on paper quickly! I tend to be a fast writer - I get it down, then go back and take my time crafting it.

I'm hoping to get it in good enough shape to enter it into the Austin Screenplay Competition this summer.

SO - that's my announcement. I'm writing a screenplay (TA-DAH!) & I'll update you on how the writing is going. AND, OF COURSE, I will continue to blog, for I blog, therefore I am!

"Wish me luck. No, I don't believe in luck. Wish for something to happen." ~Roxanne
(or something close to that.....)

Cheers!

Fairies, Gardens and the Rearranging Thereof...

2010-01-20T14:22:00.004-06:00

So, rememeber how I blogged about my Mother-in-Law's blogs and her serial blogging addiction....uh, er...habit? I'm not supposed to call her by her real name, she got onto me for that, shook her finger at me and everything! *grin* Therefore I shall refer to her henceforth as Bloomers, cause she loves to garden....no wait!....how about Green Thumb, because she's so good at gardening....no, hold the phone!.....I shall call her MoMM! A fairly straight forward acronym for Mom of Magic Man! Perfect....

Anywho....MoMM has gone and rearranged her 8ish, or so blogs, into one big fancy, fun extravaganza of a blog! And, looks like she's started on a little story over there -- did I mention before that MoMM is a fabu writer? No? Well she is a FABU writer! -- and you all should jump, skip and or hop on over there. Her link is below. I have spent magical chunks of marvelous time over there reading her posts. Please do visit, for you are invited guests....and please do be kind and leave her a few delicious comments, if you will. You know how much a comment means to a blogger, you know you do!

MoMM's link: Rearranging the Garden

Meanwhile, she also had a little link to find out your fairy name for free - so I went to find out mine, which it turns out is Thorn Hailshimmer -- and since I'm feeling the edges of Spring sneaking around the backyard, I thought I'd share the whole fairy name link with you too! Happy almost Spring!

My fairy is called Thorn Hailshimmer
I am protector of the lonely.
I live in brambles and blackberry bushes.
I am only seen when the first flowers begin to blossom.
I wear purple and green like berries and leaves.
I have cheery turquoise wings like a butterfly.

Get your own Fairy Name by clicking HERE!

Farewell for now - I have an announcement coming up tomorrow, so please do check back! Cheers!

The Spiritual Power of Chocolate Cake!

2010-01-15T22:28:00.005-06:00

So, the Coconut Cake was a success and got gobbled up on Bunco night! But, it rained all day today and I began to feel wonky - just not myself. Suddenly it came to me! I wanted CHOCOLATE! So what else could I do...with my Coconut Cake success fresh in my mind and a strong desire for chocolate on the tip of my tongue...time to try my hand at a CHOCOLATE CAKE!

MU-HA-HA-HA-ha! (Imagine evil laugh here)

So, I bought a chocolate cake mix - because again, I'm a cook, not a baker - and whipped up a chocolate confection! For frosting I whipped together one stick of unsalted butter, half a bar of cream cheese, powder sugar, cocoa and vanilla. WhippaWhippaWhippa!

I frosted the cake and layered fresh, juicy RED RASPBERRIES in the center! I left the sides un-frosted because....we like chocolate, but don't want to o.d. on it!

It was a totally, decadent....dare I say, Spiritual experience! We ooo'd, we ahhh'd, we smacked our lips and savored the flavor of fabulous chocolate set off by red raspberries! YUMMY-OLA!!!

Of course, now I'm stuck with a a giant chocolate cake! After chowing down on a tender, sweet slice...we felt ...delirious....joyful....it was a powerful mouthful. A spiritual release! Now I feel wonky in a whole new way - Sugar Rush anyone? Seriously, we don't usually have this kind of sugar around the house!

Off to the neighbors tomorrow with a giant chunk of it! We gotta get this out of here & fast!!!

NEW YEARS RESOLUTION #1: STOP BAKING CAKES!!!!!!!!!!!

I BAKED A COCONUT CAKE!!!

2010-01-13T14:23:00.008-06:00

ME! I DID

Some of the ladies from church are coming over tonight to play BUNCO and so....to top off the menu, I made a COCONUT CAKE! I love a good coconut cake!

You have to understand - I am not a baker by any stretch of the imagination. I'm a pretty good cook (adventurous in the kitchen, my mom always says), but baking has not been my strong suit! Mostly because I'm not a precise cook - I tend to alter, add & take away ingredients, and you cannot do that in baking! To be honest, I used a Pillsbury white cake mix and added coconut extract. BUT....I made the FROSTING from scratch!!! And, it has a lemon curd filling!

And seriously, I can't believe it, but it looks like it came out okay!!!

Oh, and HAPPY NEW YEAR to everyone!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY.....

2009-11-21T19:49:00.003-06:00

....to ME!!!

YEP! It's my Day 'O Birth......

As I turn another year older, I can't help but notice that...
I don't really feel any older. Which, I think, is a good thing.

The thing is....I keep waiting to feel wiser. And 'all grown up'!

Does anyone out there feel like they are 'all grown up'?

Or wiser? Do you?

To TWITTER, or not to TWITTER....

2009-11-11T22:21:00.006-06:00

that is the...uh, you know the rest!

Well, I was told that I should be TWITTERING so everyone will know the funny (STUPID) things that fall out of my silly, playwright head.

I resisted for a long time...but then I signed up today, just so I could follow this other writer's blog in the Heights. Suddenly...I'm a Twit!......I mean, a TWITTER! A TWEETER? A....uh...TWEETERguurl?

If you want to follow me, my Twitter ID is: http://twitter.com/playwrightchick

SOooooo.....do You TWITTER?

November is National Novel Writing Month!

2009-10-27T14:16:00.007-05:00

For all you Writey-Writersons out there....word on the street (okay, by 'street', I mean the Internet) is that November is National Novel Writing Month!

If you're interested, there is a cool site at NaNoWriMo!

You: What do I do there?

Me: Well, if you're courageous...or crazy like a fox (or a loon) , you sign up!

You: And....and....and what am I signing up for...exactly?

Me: Glad you asked. You sign up to write a book in 30 days!

You: 30 DAYS? THIRTY? DAYS?

Me: Yep, 30 days!

You: Uhm...that sounds....

Me: ...like a challenge? Like a dare?

You: I was going to go with crazy, nuts or just plain gah-gah, but okay, let's go with your word...challenge. And, why would I do this?

Me: Well, it's really about getting it down on paper, jumping off the bridge, getting a running start off home plate, making the...

You: (interrupting) ...uh, okay stop! So, it's about writing...

Me: Yes, it is. Also, it's about setting a goal and getting it done. You know, you SAY you want to be a writer...

You: Yes...I do say that. And I DO want to be a writer.

Me: Well then? BE a writer! Just go...and be...and here's a great starting place!

You: Hmmm, sounds interesting.

Me: Yes, sure does.

You: Sounds...challenging...and a bit crazy too.

Me: Agreed.

You: Are you going to sign up?

Me: I might. I'm thinking about it. I have a story or two to tell.

You: Okay, so where do I go again?

Me: NaNoWriMo!

You: THANKS, Playwright Chick! I'm going to check it out!

Question: Are YOU thinking about signing up? And do YOU think you can write a novel in....30 Days?

SuperKid, 6th Grade Homecoming & My Wrist Corsage!

2009-10-09T01:44:00.004-05:00

It's only Arts & Craft if it comes out nifty looking....
...otherwise it's officially Arts & CRAP!

SuperKid just started 6th grade (at the fabu school of his choice - YAY!) and went to his very first HOMECOMING! He agreed to go with - or I should say meet up with - a friend who is a girl. (Nope, not the same 'friend who is a girl' from last year.) They decided they'd go as 'just friends'.

Okay, so all week I kept telling him, 'Hey, SuperKid, you need to get her a wrist corsage or small mum with ribbons.'

"Nah," he'd say, scrunching his face up, "she's just a friend, mom."

I'd say, "Uh, still....duh, dude, she'll wonder where her flower is, all other girls will have one....and who cares if you're just friends, of course you're just friends...you're 11! STILL.....you should get her a wrist corsage or something....mark my words, you'll be sorry!"

Well, he waited and waited....surely I've learned my mom-lesson and secretly arranged for one anyway, because I just KNOW he's going to realize....too late....too late.....NOPE! I have NOT learned my mom-lesson!

He comes home the NIGHT BEFORE HOMECOMING and says, "Oops, you were RIGHT MOM!" (I KNOW I'M RIGHT, DUDE!) "I should have gotten her something! Can we please please PLEASE go get her a wrist corsage...one without a real flower, because the wrist corsages they sold at school for $5 all week (WHAT!?!) had fake flowers in them and I'm afraid a real flower will make her think I love her....which I don't....because we're really really just friends."

*sigh!*

SuperKid has WAY TOO much homework and a test to study for....so I trek out alone. A mom on the prowl for a wrist corsage with a FAKE flower! (RAH?) After many stops at many grocery stores and many florists I can only find $30 dollar wrist corsages with REAL flowers, not FAKE flowers, all the wrong colors or just plain tacky. TACKY and EXPENSIVE. That seems to be the name of the game. They are even attached to tacky white elastic to put around the wrist....with no added decor. That's what I call Arts & Crap.

Then I spy a JoAnn's Fabrics! AH HA! Lights on, still open! I launch into the parking lot and swoosh my suv to a stop at the very front and center parking space. Wheeeeeee!

They have the right color ribbons! They have a cute white daisy-mum! I buy, I bag, I run home to my sewing machine and hot glue gun!

Magic Man - the ever patient hubby - looks at me and says, "You have a wild, swirly look in your eyes, babes. Don't get crazy."

HAHAHAHAHAHA!! TOOOO LATEEEEE!

I measure SuperKid's wrist and then sew silver ribbon to the elastic. No plain, white, icky elastic band for SuperKid's date 'who's just a friend'! A sparkly, spangly, ruffly silver ribbon band! Then I create an explosion of white, silver & royal blue ribbon....long and drippy, droopy....like an exploding pom-pom of color and I try to hot glue it....YUK, no good.....back to the sewing machine! I sew the explosion of color onto the sparkly, silver arm band. Then, hot glue the white daisy-mum onto that.

IT's B-E-A-UTIFUL!!!! GORGEOUS!!! Why, I've never made something so easily and cute! Truly, even with the FAKE (not my idea - real flowers for me please) daisy-mum....it's totally cute and rockin'!

I show it to SuperKid the next morning. His eyes light up - he's proud of it! YAY ME! SCORE MOM POINTS!

I only wish I'd taken a photo of it - it really did look great!

Well, 'friend who is a girl' LOVES LOVES LOVES it! She wears it all night at the dance, even though most of the other girls remove theirs for dancing. She's proud of it, she loves it...and with the sewn on ribbons and hot glued flower....it should last her a few years.

SuperKid says he learned his lesson. When you take a girl to a school dance like Homecoming....even if the girl is just a friend.....girl deserves and expects corsage!
YES! SuperKid says his corsage was a hit with all the girls and he's going to have me make ALL HIS FUTURE WRIST CORSAGES!!!! *oh! wasn't counting on that!*

Spffft!

What have been YOUR experiences with boys, girls, dances and corsages???? Share them please.....(comments)

My Mother-in-Law and Her Delicious, Dirty, Little Secret!

2009-09-26T14:41:00.010-05:00

SHHHHHHhhhhhh.......

I found out this week and it sent me reeling!

My Mother-in-Law is a....a....a

A SECRET BLOGGER!

AND.....wait for it.....she has more than one! Like FIVE! So, she's not only a SECRET blogger....she's also a SERIAL blogger!!!

At first I was struck by pure astonishment followed by mild amusement.....did I say 'mild'? I meant WILD! WILD AMUSEMENT! I mean, a woman in her (GACK! She reads my blog, so I should refrain from saying her age out of respect - see how much I respect you Lea?).....let's just say a woman 'of her age', dashing around on the computer would impress even the snottiest of daughter-in-laws! (Not that I'm saying I'm a snotty daughter-in-law.....I'm not! NO really! Okay, I try not to be a snotty D-I-L! *raspberries*) But seriously....she's actually BLOGGING! WOW!

After the ASTONISHMENT abated and the WILD AMUSEMENT was replaced with intense curiosity - I clicked on the blogspot links she had sent me. (LINKS! SHE SENT ME LINKS! They were totally active, working links and everything! Impressed? I was!)

I pursed my lips and perused her blogs. Hmmmm, these are good, really good! Funny, cute, snappily written........no one would ever guess that she was.....uh....the age that she is! I mean, she had full grown children with kids of their own before desktop computers were ever on desks! She currently has great-grandchildren! AND yet....this woman is not only splurking (yes, a made up word, deal!) around on the Internet, but writing...

WILDLY, WONDERFUL, WHIMSICAL blogs!

Not only is she writing these blogs, but she is scanning and uploading photos!!! Seriously, I am impressed right down to my peach, painted toenails!

I applaud, I bow down, I curtsy, I tip my metaphorical hat to her, for I am truly humbled by the quality of her writing! (Someone give this woman a book deal, would ya'?) And 'NO', I'm sorry to say, I cannot send you over to her blogs to have a look - although I would LOVE to and highly recommend her blogs.....BUT at this time they are Private and by Invitation only. (Awww, shucks!)

What a delicious, dirty little secret! I surely hope I can share them with you all soon!

Gotta COMMENT for Texas Playwright Chick? Leave it below!

It's Raining Dead Computers from the Texas Sky!

2009-09-14T12:06:00.003-05:00

So seriously, I am really planning on getting back up and blogging in a more timely manner...and SOON! It's just that my laptop contracted a deadly Koob Worm Virus - damn that koob worm! - and is not functioning at all right now. We're trying to get that worked out.

In the meantime, I skittered back into my lavender-walled office to take up residence, once again, at my old - and I mean really old! - desktop computer. But, I found that it was so slow compared to the speed of the Internet that I've been unable to surf, answer mail in a timely manner or blog! This has caused me to answer only critical emails on my iPhone. *sigh*

So, two nights ago, Magic Man came through the door with a brand new, 3 gig (not exactly sure what that means, but think it means its rip-roarin' fast and can blow the hair off my dog from 20 paces), Compaq (I know, I know - I was hopin' for a MAC, but alas, Magic Man was squeamish when he saw the Mac pricing by comparison and is still hoping to resuscitate my Compaq laptop....still, a new computer!) computer with flat screen! SO, I now have a new desktop, but any email prior to...um...today...is unavailable to me until we get the old desktop to transfer my email. It's a weird problem that I created when I found that I could read email on the old desktop with the use of Outlook Express - thereby making all recent email and email files unavailable for viewing on my att account.

It's been....um...interesting being without a computer. And devastating to my writing! But, I am almost full speed again...and what a FAST SPEED I'll be!

Would someone kindly pick up all these dead computers around me that have rained down from the Texas sky?

Crazy, Hazy, not-so-Lazy Days of Summer...

2009-08-18T14:06:00.004-05:00

photo by Carly Brown

...kept me busier than I care to be! I haven't forgotten about my blog, just had to stay away for a while to get through the insanity that this summer brought.

It's been a long summer, a hot summer, and a STRESSFUL summer! One I will not forget - and not because of the great times! (Okay, well there were some great times too, for sure, but it was just a big bad summer, overall.)

Thanks for your patience, I will be back and blogging again very soon!

Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald

2009-06-26T10:00:00.005-05:00

The wacky world of Zelda...

The zany and very creative wife of F. Scott Fitzgerald is often written about, thought of and spoken of as crazy. Insane! NUTS!!! BUT...was she really insane? I think there is another side to this story.

In the 1920's, a woman who did not desire to be a stay-at-home mom and wife, who had aspirations towards the creative, who wanted to dance, paint, write...was typically diagnosed as Schizophrenic. No kidding, this was the standard in those days.

Additionally, not only is it known that F. Scott based many of his female characters on his wife Zelda, but some claim (including Zelda) that Scott actually used and published excerpts from Zelda's personal diaries under his own name.

Zelda, once asked to review one of Scott's stories for New York Tribune, wrote, "It seems to me that on one page I recognized a portion of an old diary of mine which mysteriously disappeared shortly after my marriage, and also scraps of letters which, though considerably edited, sound to me vaguely familiar. In fact, Mr. Fitzgerald — I believe that is how he spells his name — seems to believe that plagiarism begins at home." Witty, yes?

It is also documented that Scott wrote many letters to his publisher, forbidding him to publish one of Zelda's manuscripts. Scott claimed that he, as the 'creative' in the family, and he alone owned the rights to their life material. Uh, okay...right.

All I can say is...it's enough to make a girl crazy! Or seem like she is...but what if she was really just a frustrated artist, an oppressed lady with a passion for life? What if?

I've been researching Zelda for over three years now and intend to write a play with her story...her story from her side. I believe the woman needs a Voice. I intend to lend her mine. Stay tuned...

I have often told you that I am that little fish who swims about under a shark and, I believe, lives indelicately on its offal. Anyway, that is the way I am. Life moves over me in a vast black shadow and I swallow whatever it drops with relish, having learned in a very hard school that one cannot be both a parasite and enjoy self-nourishment without moving in worlds too fantastic for even my disordered imagination to people with meaning. -Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald

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My Achey, Breaky Heart

2009-05-30T12:40:00.005-05:00

It smarts, it does...my achey, breaky heart. It got a shock this week when SuperKid, my eleven year old son, went to his first dance. Well, it was actually the fifth grade banquet with dance included.

He went - or rather met up there - with his favorite Girl-who's-a-friend. (SuperKid gets his feathers ruffled when I use the term 'girlfriend'....so I'm only allowed to call her his best girl-who's-a-friend.) She's special, this one (let's call her SuperGirl). They run track together, they like to hang together, they are truly great friends. She's a 'tom-boy' who has a swishy, girly-side to her. She's lovely, she's sweet, good manners, funny to be around, says interesting things, isn't afraid or shy to talk to adults and is very open and lovely to be around. We like her, SuperKid has a puppy-love crush that he won't admit to.

SuperKid took SuperGirl a wrist corsage to the dance. SuperGirl showed up with her shining personality and a groovy dress with heels that suddenly made her taller than SuperKid. SuperKid was dressed up in dress slacks and a cool vest and was awed by her. SuperGirl loved the wrist corsage & wore it the next day (too) at a fifth grade award ceremony. SuperKid had a fantastic time at the dance (yes, they actually danced, a lot!).

I wasn't ready. I wasn't prepared. I'm happy for SuperKid, that his first puppy-love is so sweet, so innocent. And...I know this is the beginning of many more adolescent relationships to come, which makes me want to...curl up in the fetal position under my dining room table and suck on a bottle of scotch. But I won't...mostly because I'm not a scotch drinker...and also, because I know it's the normal progression of life.

But for now, for a while longer, can't we keep this innocent, puppy-love going...just for now. The thought that one day, maybe soon, my son's heart will be broken by a girl (not necessarily SuperGirl - they are good friends, afterall), makes my own achey, breaky heart beat just a little too fast...

Spring has Sprung....and Smacked Right Into Our Window!

2009-05-12T23:36:00.005-05:00

I was having tea this morning when I glanced over at the window and saw something that, at first appeared to be free-falling, but then took flight and smacked into our window. It fluttered there, frantic and confused. I realized it was a baby bird!

The bird, exhausted, landed on the brick ledge outside the window as all the inside animals, two cats and an 80lb Lab, came running to see what was going on! I grabbed my camera and took a couple photos through the window. After I got a couple photos, Zelda, the curious cat, jumped onto the inside window ledge and came face to face with the baby chick. The chick stood its ground for a moment, then suddenly turned and took flight across the yard and landed on a high branch.

Spring has more than sprung - it's smacked into our window! No worries, the baby bird's first flight may have been a bit frightening for it, but the second flight was a success!

By the way - anyone know what kind of bird this is???

Happy Non-Mom Day!

2009-05-11T09:36:00.004-05:00

Happy Mother's Day to all you Mommies out there! Especially mine! Many of my readers have read The Shirley Diaries and have a pretty good sense of how funny my own Mum is.....if you haven't read them - they are to the right at the top of the blog. Have a read and get a laugh!

Anywho...I wanted to take a moment and write about the non-Moms in our lives. The Aunts, Sisters and best gal-friends who have no children, but take the time to dote on yours. Gosh, ya' gotta love these lovely ladies! Without them, there would be no 'date night' with hubby, no romantic long weekends together, no reconnection to your carefree pre-kid days.

We are fortunate to have several non-Moms in our circle. They love to take SuperKid to the zoo, to the rodeo, etc.....and since I am uncomfortable in large, tight crowds, I'm especially grateful to have someone else take him to the rodeo! (Nancy, this post is for you, girl!)

So, for all those non-Moms in our life.....HAPPY N0N-MOM DAY! You are moms too - in your own special way! You've changed a diaper or two, given us back our sanity and made date nights possible. We LOVE you and wish you a very merry and happy Mother's Day!

Comments anyone? click word COMMENT below. See ya! Cher

So, Who's Buried in the Backyard?

2009-04-18T11:49:00.005-05:00

This true-life scene took place 5 years ago, when SuperKid was 6 years old....

(SUPERKID enters upstage right and crosses the living room. HE is still sleepy and, rubbing his eyes, climbs up and sits on the bar stool at the breakfast bar. MOM(me) is making breakfast and getting lunch items ready to be packed for school.)

SuperKid: Mommy, Dad said that when Boz the cat died a few years ago...he went to Heaven. Is that true?

Mom: Um...yes.

SuperKid: And Dad buried Boz in the backyard?

Mom: Right. Remember how we put a wooden rabbit holding up a cross at Boz's grave?

SuperKid: Yeah, I 'member. Then, when Ziggy the cat died, Dad said he went to Heaven too, right?

(MOM pauses, her hand holding the butter knife steadily over the hot toast.)

Mom: Uh, huh....

SuperKid: ...and Dad said he buried Ziggy right next to Boz, right?

Mom: (uncomfortable) Yes....yes, that's right. That's what Dad said...

(SUPERKID leans his elbows on the counter top and plunks his chin into his cupped hands. HE blinks and looks unwaveringly at MOM. MOM flinches under SUPERKID's steady gaze, then begins to butter the toast.)

SuperKid: So, Mom....

Mom: (hesitant) Yes?

SuperKid: If Boz is in Heaven and Ziggy is in Heaven....who's buried in the backyard?

[end]

So...where DO our beloved pets go when they die? I mean, other than the backyard to be buried? Where do they go?

COMMENTS welcome! click on COMMENT word below...

Easter Treats!

2009-04-13T19:04:00.003-05:00

I don't now how it happened but it did! I attended a fantastic Easter Brunch at our church and went home hungry!

I intended to eat, I really did! And I even managed to get a small plate of food and sit at a table for a few minutes...but with all the friendly, frenzied chatting and getting to see and hug people I hadn't seen in a while, my plate was only nibbled at.

Before I knew it, the day was over and I was sifting through photos I had taken. When I saw all the incredible food in the photos and noticed my tummy growling, I realized I hadn't really eaten!

Oh, well....I hope everyone had a lovely Easter!

(Oh, how I love the comments - click on COMMENT below, Thanks!)

Don't Say Good-bye - Say Dubai...

2009-04-09T11:17:00.007-05:00

Carly: The People Collector

Carly is a friend of mine. A very good friend. Until a few months ago, she lived right here in Houston, not too far from our house. But now, she lives on the other side of the planet. For those of you that think I'm prone to exaggeration (Mother), you should know that Dubai really is on the other side of the planet! Literally!

I first met Carly and her lovely family at church. She was pregnant with their second child...but sparkled with the bubbling energy of a carefree teenager.

Carly - I would soon find out - was a collector. Not of stamps or coins, or post-it notes tacked to the fridge with reminders to buy eggs or crayons....but a collector of people. She surrounds herself with an array of personalities! AND, she is not stingy either. She shares her friends, puts groups of people together, arranges ways for them to meet and interact....it's what she does. It's who she is. It's wonderful...

It's safe to say that Carly has never met a stranger. Her glowing spirit shines through and attracts everyone she turns her happy gaze upon. Like a bee to a pollen-filled flower, there is always the promise of sweet honey. You want to know her, you want to be friends with her, you want to sit and have tea and shoot the breeze with her. She's always ready to share information or tell you about some new friend she met....some new adventure she's had or is about to have....it's her Carly-way.

We had more than a few mornings sharing tea and talk. I miss it. I really do. And I know I'm not the only one to miss Carly-girl. She has a huge bank of friends here in Houston alone, and I know around the world.

Now she's off, making new friends on the other side of the planet....collecting more friends, collecting adventures and new stories to share with us all. Carly is connecting the world one friendship at a time.

I thank God for Skype & email (is it too weird to thank God for this?)! It's made the Carly-withdrawals less intense, less painful.

So, with all this in mind, with the knowledge that I can stay completely connected to my friend, and that through her we will all have a mix of new friends, I say....Don't say Good-bye...Say Dubai.

Dubai, Carly, Dubai....

PLEASE CLICK ON COMMENT BUTTON below TO COMMENT ;)

Snowy, Snowy Night!

2008-12-14T23:13:00.003-06:00

Yes, snow fell in Houston! It was beautiful - of course that being said, having lived in Chicago for 6+ years, I fully realize how too much snow can be a bit of a bother. Or how even a little snow can be a bother in a town like Houston. (I think the city owns one 'salt' truck and borrows from neighboring towns when necessary - like once every 10 years!)

In any case, the snow was perfect! Lovely flakes billowing through the snow-chilled air, wafting like dreamy butterflies.... only with more determination to land on a nice inviting surface, like a car or bush, to show off their fluffy, ice prism, wings. Ahhh......

I watched with amusement as my son ran back and forth across the front yard with his nose tipped towards the clouds and his tongue sticking out! Worried that he'd run into a tree and knock himself out cold (cold, haha!), I waved him down and said, "what are you doing? You're going to run into a tree." He grinned and said simply, "trying to catch snowflakes on my tongue."

Ah, well, there ya' go - I was put properly in my adult place. I'd forgotten about trying to catch snowflakes on my tongue! However, I was more sensible....I liked to do it standing still, not running about wildly, risking the possible tackling of an innocent tree! I'm sure the tree would win that contest!

Snow, snow and snow some more....what I would give for a snow big enough to be shoveled off the sidewalk! I miss the snow! But this was not snow that would need shoveling - it would be long gone (but not forgotten about) by morning. *sigh*

"Snow and adolescence are the only problems that disappear if you ignore them long enough."

~Earl Wilson

And now, a word from our sponsor....

2008-10-14T16:03:00.004-05:00

Feeling blue? Life got ya' down? Is the election... the mortgage crisis.... the credit crunch... recovery from Ike got ya' feeling glum?

I have a solution...and it's FREE! What you need is a good eye-watering, knee-slapping laugh session with yourself!

Just click on one of the SHIRLEY DIARIES (Madcap Mama) in the column to the right and settle in with a good bottle of wine, your favorite jammy-jams, put your feet up and READ! Enjoy! Feel free to comment!

Caution: reading of The Shirley Diaries have been known to cause giggling, snickering and laughter. If you are on any medications that inhibit your ability to laugh, then you should first seek permission from your doctor before reading The Shirley Diaries!

This has been a public service announcement! (I hope it is of service to you!)

Demise of a 100 Year Old Heights House

2008-10-03T09:51:00.011-05:00

Ike
was in
charge.

Ike
had a
meltdown.

This beautiful home in the Historic Heights district of Houston was built in 1908. One hundred years ago this year......

It's totaled.

Ike threw a party and we were all forced to go.....this house did not survive.

*tears*

It's a Bug's Life!

2008-10-01T10:55:00.008-05:00

Ike blew through! Ike meant business! I felt like a helpless, little bug under a windy, wet waterfall. We are living a bug's life now....a smaller life. It was like camping in your own house (some ppl still are!). There was no electricity, no phone, no air conditioning, no television, no food......no restaurants to go to (they had no electricity either), the grocery stores and gas stations that were open had lines.

For a couple of weeks I didn't worry about the economy, the election, the newest trends in footwear or what to do for the weekend. Instead I worried about more fundamental things like.....where will I find decent food to feed my family? When will my son's school reopen, how will I wash clothes? It was a small life, a bug's life.

But, we are so thankful to still have a roof -- one that doesn't leak! Yea! -- over our heads! Our carpet got drenched as water came through the weep holes and the back door, and we have two large trees down in the backyard. But we are here, still breathing, still living, knowing life goes on and hopefully, along the way, you won't get squished by some big-footed giant!

Life here is so weird right now. Honestly, you wouldn't recognize the city at all. I keep wondering if there is life beyond the mountains of garbage, wet carpet and 6-8 foot hedges of busted up trees that line nearly every street. Surely, eventually we will get it all back together again....right?

The morning afterwards, I looked out the front and back windows....only to see a forest of limbs and leaves pressed up against the windows of our house. We literally had to climb through the limbs to get far enough out of the house to pull the limbs back! Ihead people describe the site of our town as a war zone. It's true - for many days, and still in some neighborhoods, it looked like some tree-killing bomb blew up, shaking the rafters, dropping shrapnal of tree limbs, roof shingles and mysterious, wrinkled metal sheets of some unknown source.

The squirrels and birds were on a rampage around our neighborhood. They were flitting about, nervous and grumpy to see their homes lying on the ground.

Electricity and phone service has been slow in coming back to many homes. We were out for a week, but so many others still don't have it. I do think things are getting better though.

The thing I know for certain is that this town pulled together in a way I've never seen. Kindness and compassion were everywhere I looked. People joined together and helped without expecting anything in return. Neighbors that have never even waved went yard to yard helping each other stack the debris.

It was like that scene in A Bug's Life where the Ants join arm to arm and stand as one against the Grasshoppers!

All I know is that I'm thankful, thankful, thankful that we survived. Arm in arm, we were ravished, we were scrambled, we were roughed up badly....but we survived!

More info & pics on Ike soon!

~

Yo-Ho, We're In For A Blow! Yike, IKE !!!

2008-09-12T18:47:00.005-05:00

Ahoy, Maties! Arrrgghh!

Ike is closing in on us - yes, I live in HOUSTON- and we're as ready as we can possibly be! We are 8 miles from downtown Houston, so we're not in the evacuation zone, therefore we were advised to 'shelter-in-place'. We have tons of water, gillions of batteries for the many flashlights, radios, etc., and lots of food at the ready - the no need to cook kind, not always the best thing to put in your body. But, I also have tons of fresh fruit and nuts for a healthier choice too. The bathtub is full of water & I also managed to wash every linen, towel & clothing item in the house. This is very important in case you're without electricity & water for several days. Yikes!

Magic Man, my superhero hubby, works for AT&T, so he'll get called out into the immediate aftermath of the storm to hook up phones as quickly as possible. It's not the storm I fear, it's the aftermath. Putting things right again is always a huge task, especially in a city this large. And around our house, SuperKid (son) and I usually have to do a lot of it ourselves, because Magic Man will be out helping put the masses back online, getting them hooked up & plugged in.

We don't mind though. Magic Man works so hard and never, ever complains! He really is such a trooper! He'll be working weekends and very late nights - dragging home after dark, dog tired, sweaty, needing a bath....but still smiling. He's always smiling. I don't know how he does it!

I will do tons of cooking in the next couple of months, trying to make sure that Magic Man comes home to a healthy & delicious meal. Trying to make sure that the tiny bit of time we have with him will be quality time. It's so important.

Magic Man will come home late at night and tell us stories. Trees speared through rooftops and punctured down into people's living rooms. Trees uprooted and laying down like tired, old giants. Trees twisted and angled, haggard and hanging, leaning and lopsided. Trees everywhere, especially in places you'd never think a tree should be.

SuperKid will miss him. I will miss him. Even Trilby-the-wonder-dog will miss him. The cat will not miss him....she's a cat after all and only cares that the litter box is changed in a timely manner and that food & fresh water are at her queenly command.

And as the water flows back out to sea, it will leave lines of demarcation. Lines that will remind us for months that Ike came and showed us who's boss.

The wind is starting to blow as Ike warms up its voice, humming through the trees, whistling through the rafters. The loud noise - it's so very LOUD during a hurricane - works your nerves like nothing else.

Ike is coming and it's going to throw a gigantic temper tantrum on our coastline, stomping and storming, ranting and raving like a too tired child wanting a cookie before dinner. And we will do all we can do. We will batten down the hatches. We will drop our sails. We will hunker down and pray.

Keep a weathered eye on the horizon, for when the sun comes up we'll still be in the thick of it.

See you all soon, me mates! We're in for a BLOW! Yo-Ho!

Vacation Stabilization!

2008-08-19T00:00:00.006-05:00

...and a River runs through it! Welcome to the wonderful world of the Rio Frio, my friends!

We vacated our lives for a week and it was marvelous! I like to call it Vacation Stabilization! It is the time to get back to the 'you-ness' in You! A brief pause in your crazy, demanding life to get stabilized, refreshed and re-focused. We stayed, for the second year in a row, at the Frio River Bluff Cabins.

The cabin was perfect! Air conditioning quietly humming and pumping out a glaze of cool air coating every surface with icy perfection! It is August in Texas, after all, so it was always nice to come in from the melting afternoon heat and chill over a game board with a Powerade -- okay, sometimes a glass of wine -- in one hand and in the other hand....nothing! No cell phone waiting to ting-a-ling and suck you into the hustle and bustle of your busy life.

The stars were gorgeous! Shining like fiery diamonds on a background of navy-black velvet as the occasional meteor shot across the heavens leaving a quicksilver trail of stardust just begging to be wished upon. Oh, the wishes I wished!

The river was terrific! Clear, icy cold - it is called the Rio Frio, after all -- but refreshing to our too tired, too frazzled, too busy to-stop-and-pamper-ourselves, bone bags. The river was down, so it was slower this year, though I like to think if it as lazy, not slow. We lazed down the crystal, glowing waters of the Rio Frio, arms and legs poking out of our tubes and trailing the cool surface. Sometimes getting out and swimming, diving for heart-shaped rocks, sometimes lolling our heads back into the water and looking up at the majestic, impossibly tall cypress trees standing along the riverbank like wise, old soldiers.

The food was simple, but fabulous! We cooked on the grill every night, churning out chicken fajitas with grilled-to-perfection roasted onions and smoked poblano peppers, grille-marked fish tacos, juicy hamburgers, plump exploding hot dogs and melty, toasty, roasty s'mores! Ah.....drool....

The sleep was incredible! Sleeping until the body decided it was ready to rise and shine according to its own time clock - not some snarky, too early alarm that would wake the dead. We oozed up out of sleep and easily floated into our days. We lolled about in jammies on the front porch with mugs of rich coffee and cream poised at our pink lips, watching the trees move with the gentle breeze.

The company was fine! Like a well worn sweater, comfortable and easy, with a mix of giggly, yawny, familiar-ness that warms the soul. Superkid and Magic Man were there, of course! And our good friends, Computer Wiz and Theatre Gal, with their perky baby boy of 10 months.

The rainbow was a bonus! A glowing rainbow graced us one morning with its lovely arc of colorful rays. This was a special rainbow - not some ordinary, high in the sky, untouchable light. No, this was low and lovely! There was a misty fog caught in the trees -- it had rained that night -- and a rainbow with the widest strokes of color I've ever seen, splashed an explosion of color on the mountain-like hill just West of our cabin porch! This rainbow was screaming to be seen - Look at me, Look at me!!!

No television to veg out to...no cell phones to answer...no email...no internet...no interruptions.

No calamity.....just calm.

Plain, old, vanilla, garden variety calm....peace....rest. Quiet joy has spilled over my soul. Ah, bliss never felt so good.

If you ever want to stay there, we highly recommend it! The owners of the Frio Bluff Cabins, Dean and Peggy Yaklin, are wonderful people who are -- in my blissed-out opinion -- doing a public service by allowing people to stay in their cabins on their land where the Rio Frio runs through it!

http://friobluffcabins.com/

Your favorite vacation spot? Tell me......I'm all ears, baby.

Vacate!

2008-08-09T00:30:00.002-05:00

I am heading out on vacation.....and where we're going...there are no cute little coffee shops, no places to shop 'till you drop, no hustle, no bustle, no Thai take-out, no firetrucks swooshing by at 3 a.m., no theatre, no movies, no nice restaurants with gourmet cuisine....no, no, no!

Where we're going...there are only trees, rocks, a cool, clear river, a cabin (with air conditioning and fully appointed kitchen - yea!), a fire pit to roast marshmallows until their sugar crusts over into a fine roasty, crisp.....and stars!

Millions of jillions of STARS. Meteor showers. Lightening bugs. And the two I love - Super Kid and Magic Man!

She Huffed, She Puffed, She Rolled Her Eyes!

2008-08-08T09:57:00.005-05:00

What in the world has happened to customer service? Is it a total bust? Is it completely extinct or just on some sort of really long vacation?

Seriously, everywhere I go these days, the people that are paid to be available to help customers are increasingly rude, totally inept, have the grammar of a baboon and the energy of a sloth on an oozing, sticky molasses tree! It's not just me either....many people I know or have come across have mentioned having the same problems.

Yesterday I took our dog - Trilby the Wonder Dog - to Petco for her monthly bath and grooming. My husband - Magic Man - had made the appointment the previous evening so they should have been expecting her. When I arrived with 80lb Wonder Dog in tow, the woman looked at me blankly, shrugged the enormous 'chip on her shoulder' and said, "nope, there's no appointment here for no dawg." Stunned, because she hadn't even looked down at the appointment book, where I saw Wonder Dog's name written clearly in black ink, I smiled bravely.

I said in a soft, trying-to-win-her-over, voice, "Are you sure? My husband made it last night." I wrinkled my nose cutely above my I'm-not-going-to-let-you-tick-me-off grin.

She rolled her eyes, grunted, and huffed, "Are YOU sure he actually made it and didn't just tell you he did?" She wobbled her thick neck at me.

Ha...Hahaha! I laughed stiltedly before saying with confidence, "I heard him make the call. Check your appointment book, I'm sure it's there." I looked down at the appointment book myself, confirming once again that Wonder Dog's name was written in at the 11am slot. It was, it was!

She smacked her lips together and raised her eyebrow at me, "well, there's no appointment for no dawg at 11."

I pointed at the appointment book and started to say, "I see her name right...." when she grunted and turned around putting her back to me. I stopped speaking and watched her as she moved with the speed of a legless, bleeding gazelle to the grooming room door. She pushed open the door and hollered at the groomer, "this woman says she has an appointment fer her dawg but there ain't no appointment."

The groomer hollered back, "Yes there is. It should be for Trilby. I took the call myself last night."

The legless, bleeding gazelle hobbled back over to me, and without so much as a glance down at the appointment book, says, "well, she says there is, so give me yer dawg. What's her name?"

"Trilby," I say.

"Huh?"

"Trilby"

"Whut....Shelby?" She huffs at me and shrugs the chip on her shoulder - it must be heavy.

"Trilby," I say again.

"Drawby?" She puffs at me and takes the pink leash from my hand.

My 10 year old son - Super Kid - loses patience with her and says, "TRILBY, TRILBY. T.R.I.L.B.Y. Trilby!"

"Oh, Trilby," she says as she rolls her eyes.

Fast forward a couple of hours - Petco calls to say Wonder Dog is clean and ready to come home. We trek back up there, eager to get her home.

We walk into the glassed-in, grooming lobby and the legless, bleeding gazelle is chatting it up in the back with the groomer and a third woman. They are talking and laughing about who knows what, when the hobbled gazelle looks over and sees me. She turns back to her conversation and continues talking!

We stand patiently, Super Kid and I. I tap my foot a little and glance at their wall clock. Super Kid leans on the edge of the counter.

The third woman looks out at us, makes eye contact, and continues the conversation.

We stand patiently, Super Kid and I. I bend down and lean on my elbows on the counter, putting on my best gee-I'm-bored-waiting-on-you look. Super Kid shoves his hands down in his pockets and says, "geesh, I know they see us."

The hobbled gazelle looks back at me again, makes definite eye contact to let me know she sees me and will be right with me, but turns back to her conversation.

We stand patiently, Super Kid and I. I think about Wonder Dog and how her 80lbs of furry mass is sitting on the other side of that door, crated and thinking she's forgotten about. Super Kid starts to hop from square tile to square tile across their floor.

The hobbled gazelle laughs. The sound is muted by the glass windows separating her thick neck from my waiting-to-strangle hands.

We stand less patiently, Super Kid and I. I look at the clock again and note that a full five minutes have passed since we first entered the grooming lobby. Super Kid bends over and stretches his back. He yawns. He frowns. He yawns again. He wrinkles his nose and says, "why aren't they coming out here? Trilby is stuck in that cage and needs to get out!"

The groomer turns around and sees us. She points to us and smiles at me. The gazelle turns to look at us, then turns back and CONTINUES talking! I am floored! I turn to walk out of the groomer's office and into the store area where I can hopefully find a manager over the age of 20. At that very moment, the hobbled, thick-necked, gazelle comes through the glass door and says laughing, "...and I told him I wasn't gonna make no lasagna fer him no more! He'd just ate his last dinner from my kitchen stove! Now, ain't that rude?"

Ah, well now, no wonder we had been ignored for so long. They were talking about lasagna! So, I said, "we're here for Trilby."

"Shelby?" She took on the un-animated look of a dead chipmunk.

"TRILBY," Super Kid says with some urgency.

"Oh," she huffed and rolled her eyes. "You have to pay first."

"Yes, but I need the order sheet to pay."

She rolls her eyes again and shuffles through the mess of paper on the desk. I spy the sheet on the left side of the counter and snap it up. "Here it is, I'll be right back."

I go off to pay - don't get me started on the 16 year old at the register that was finishing her essay and ironically wanted to know if I knew another word for 'ignore'! Uh, dismiss, disregard, neglect, fail to notice! She holds her index finger up at me in a just-a-minute sign and finishes another sentence on her essay. She finally checks me out and back to the groomer's lobby I go!

The hobbled gazelle with the thick neck and the dead chipmunk stare, rolls the chip on her shoulder as she takes my paid slip from my hand. She huffs and turns, she puffs as she opens the door and she rolls her eyes as she glances back at us!

I hear her talking to the Wonder Dawg(!) through the glass. "No, no sweetie, it's okay."

She brings out the Wonder Dawg and hands her to us.

I say, "thank you."

She grunts, and huffs a "yeah" at me.

Super Kid rolls his eyes at me.

She says in a voice dripping with honey and all things sweet, "bye bye, Trilby. You sure are a sweet dawg. Bye bye now, sweetie-girl."

I again say, "thank you."

She grunts and rolls her eyes!

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

When the Words Get in the Way!

2008-07-26T23:22:00.007-05:00

Lyrics to songs that weren't what you thought.......

Reading a blog (http://jeaniespokane.blogspot.com/) last night about clowns reminded me that when I was very young, age 8 actually, the song Both Sides Now by Judy Collins was very popular. I was little though and when she sang the first refrain about clouds, my young ears heard:

It's clown's illusions I recall I really don't know clowns at all....

It's supposed to be CLOUDS.....but I heard CLOWNS. I thought the word was CLOWNS for a couple of decades when someone else mentioned to me that they had always misunderstood the song. I asked them what it really was, and when they said CLOUDS, I couldn't believe it!

It's easy to misunderstand lyrics to a song....I remember when I was in my mid-twenties and I was driving down the road with my sister -- the Lydia -- in the car. The Elton John song A Word in Spanish was very popular at that time. We both began to sing the song and when it got to the chorus, I noticed my sister was singing (very earnestly):

I'm LEARNING Spanish.......instead of the correct....A word in Spanish.

I began to laugh so hard that I literally had to pull the car over. I was laughing so hard and deep that I couldn't catch my breath and was beating my hands on the steering wheel, tears dripping from the corners of my eyes. She giggled semi-hysterically too, although she had no idea why I....why we, were laughing or why I'd pulled the car over in a fit of hysterical glee! I was finally able to catch my breath and ask her the words to the song. She looked at me puzzled and stated sincerely, "I'm learning Spanish, why? What do YOU think it is?"

Naturally I deteriorated into another fit of hyper-laughter before I could tell her the correct words.

Which reminds me of another time that I was driving with The Shirley. She was driving and I was white knuckled in the passenger seat. I believe we were in the old Nova. Anyhow, the song Blinded by the Light came on and I got excited because I loved it. The Shirley, however, scowled and flipped the radio to another channel. I told her I love the song, please, please, please can we put it back. She said, "no way. They are singing about douches!"

I roared with laughter for a full ten minutes before I could catch my breath and tell her the line was 'wrapped up like a deuce...'! I honestly don't think she believed me!

And so, I'm wondering......what songs have you misunderstood the words to? I just gotta know! Put it in the comments section - share the laughter!

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Check the Receipt, Busy Girl!

2008-07-16T16:03:00.005-05:00

Whoa - Recall on Meat Purchase!

I was unloading the grocery bags this afternoon and did something I rarely do....I stopped and actually looked at the receipt.

I couldn't believe my eyes!

At the very bottom of the receipt there was a customized message to ME! The customer!

Dear Ms. Duffin: Our records indicate that you recently made a purchase of red meat at this location between the dates of 6/26 & 7/3. The meat you purchased was issued a recall due to E.Coli contamination. Please return the meat, or the empty Styrofoam package to this location for a complete refund on your purchase. Thank you for shopping at K**g**s.

I don't remember buying the meat - Magic Man Hubby must have made the purchase. Sure enough, it was sitting in the freezer, frozen, uncooked and unconsumed. Wow, sure GLAD I looked at that receipt. I would hate to have fed that to SuperKid & Magic Man for dinner!

One more reason to be a vegetarian. I keep telling Magic Man we should be eating strictly vegetarian! We have a couple of 'Veggie' dinner nights each week already and those meals are so much easier to digest.

Whoa! I had no idea they sent me important little messages like that at the bottom of my receipts. I usually take a look at the total, but don't look at it for more than that......I'll have to pay more attention in the future!

The Shirley Diaries - a brief commentary on the 3 Shirley Diaries

2008-07-06T17:49:00.006-05:00

Yes, to those of you who have inquired.....The Shirley is still alive, laughing, living and driving in the country. I won't say exactly where, because I need to protect the surrounding small towns from tourist traffic that may occur from interested Shirley fans wanting to capture a glimpse of this marvelous creature. But rest assured, she is well and still possesses the ability to embarrass with the simple turning of a car key.

The Shirley also has a thought or two on my 'take' of her fiascoes. She claims no memory of them at all - which prompts me to believe she is in the very early stages of senility *joking* - and does not agree to take any responsibility for her alleged escapades.

The Shirley does think that The Shirley Diaries are very funny. She said that she read the first one late at night after dad was asleep and that she had to keep stepping away from the computer in order to get control of her laughing!

The Shirley states that I have a vivid imagination to which I retort with a snort, "...imagination? My right foot!" (and by right foot, I am referring to the one that still has the feint outline of a 7 stamped on the top!)

The Shirley is horrified that I used her real name. I told her I had to use her real name to expose the guilty! No, really, I tried to come up with a different name to use, and being a playwright, you'd think I would have been able to do that. However, the task became monumental and about as easy as assigning a different numerical value to the number 7. Can you imagine saying I'll take seven cookies, and them giving you only three? It simply cannot be done. So, I was forced to use her real name - sorry mom!

The Shirley thinks that all this 'driving under the influence of laughter' stuff is going to make people think she's a loon. She is a loon! But a funny, lovable loon.

The Shirley has reminded me that, once upon a time when I told her I was going to be a writer, that she forbid me to write anything bad about her until she was dead. To that I say, she's looking pretty healthy and may live to be a hundred and twenty, at which time I will be one hundred and too senile to write! Besides, I maintain that I have not written anything bad at all - only funny...and true, oh, so true...things.

The Shirley is afraid that people will dislike her after I have exposed her driving....um, shall we call them adventures? I have received so many emails about how wonderful The Shirley is that I believe it is testament to her true character - a funny, wonderful mom who wasn't...isn't afraid to be human.

So, to The Shirley, I lift a martini glass full of cranberry juice (because I have to drive later or it would have an appletini in it) and salute her. She gave me lessons in how not to drive and she taught me how to laugh at myself. (I do tend to take myself too seriously - note to self: laugh at self more often.)

Here's to The Shirley! - a fabulous creature that roams the hills of Texas. (I'd give out her license plate to protect the innocent, unsuspecting drivers around her - but The Shirley may sue me for being a very naughty child and for going too far.)

So, if you truly loved, enjoyed and laughed at The Shirley - please DO leave a comment so she can read it with her own eyes.

Diary of a Madcap Mama! -- PART 3

2008-06-26T18:29:00.006-05:00

The Shirley Diaries: Driving Under the Influence of Laughter

Part 3 - Final Installment

Fast forward to my sixteenth year: I could finally drive! Without The Shirley by my side – to step on the accelerator thinking it was the brake – I did pretty darn good! No teenage wrecks to report, no speeding over speed bumps, no driving over curbs. Okay, there may have been the occasional curb….even now a curb or two will put its chunky foot under my tire and boom, bounce we go! But other than that, driving was a gas!

My dad bought The Shirley a new car and gave me the Nova! Whoo-hoo! I had my own wheels and a license to drive them.

This, however, did not stop The Shirley! Just because I could now drive, didn’t mean I was free to extricate myself from my mom’s healthy need to create laughter out of potentially embarrassing driving situations.

I was a careful driver. This to my mother, meant slow. So, if The Shirley was in a hurry to get somewhere….she insisted on doing the driving! EEK! I’m sure that you can appreciate my sixteen year old dilemma!

Enter boyfriend…we’ll call him Mr. Cool Tool (because at the time I thought he was cool, he used tools to work on cars and, in time, he revealed himself to be a total tool!). Mr. Cool Tool worked at the gas station at the corner. Mr. Cool Tool always waved at me and smiled when I drove by on my way somewhere. Mr. Cool Tool was always on the look out for me to drive by. And yes, sometimes that meant with my mother….at the WHEEL!

One day we were headed towards the mall. The Shirley was in a hurry and insisted on driving. I begged, I pleaded, I stated that we were far safer (from embarrassing situations) with me behind the wheel than her! She tossed her frosted hair, smiled that pretty Shirley smile and vetoed me with the confidence of a mom high on mall shopping.

We were off! We careened up the main boulevard headed for the freeway. The Shirley loved driving on the freeway. No stop signs, no red lights, no speed bumps, nothing but uninterrupted pavement filled with fast moving obstacles (cars!) to zigzag around! What’s not to love? My eight year old sister – The Lydia – was belted and bolted down into the back seat. I was hunkered down – white knuckles clenched down upon the edge of the seat, eyes scanning the road ahead for speed bumps, slow moving cars and people who might recognize me – in the front passenger seat. As we approach the corner where Mr. Cool Tool works, The Shirley starts to dig through her purse with gusto!

“Mother,” I squealed, “What are you doing? Watch the road!” A bead of sweat collected on my furrowed forehead.

The Shirley laughed and said, “I think I forgot my checkbook! I can’t shop without my checkbook.” She continued digging thoroughly through her purse and then said, “Yep, I forgot it. Good thing we’re not too far from home yet.”

With that, The Shirley quickly guided the new, silver Chrysler from the right lane to the left lane…and then proceeded to execute – and by execute, I mean butcher – a left u-turn.

I cringed and tried to press my body firmly, safely, back against the seat as the car began to curl off to the left. I held my breath and looked towards the gas station to see if Mr. Cool Tool was out front. He WAS! Blast!

Mr. Cool Tool looked back at me, smiled and then waved at me. As I weakly lifted my right hand to wave back, pretending that all was well, The Shirley, now fully engaged in making that left u-turn, hooked not one, but TWO (!), left tires over the center median!!! The car took on a lopsided stance reminiscent of the Nova’s previous predicament; only this time we were in MOTION!

June Cleaver never got her tires hooked up on a median!

The Shirley threw her head back and laughed wildly! My sister – The Lydia – sat in the backseat alternately mortified and giggling. My head bobbled like a wobbly dashboard Jesus as I muttered a secret prayer for invisibility! My prayer went unanswered as I looked up and saw that Mr. Cool Tool was bent over in what looked like a seizure. I’m sure it wasn’t a seizure. I’m sure it was laughter….that kind of laughter where you can’t catch your breath and drool lolls out from the sides of your mouth. The kind of laughter where milk will spew out of your nose and your stomach clenches down so tightly that it is sore the next day…the kind of bent over seizure-like laughter that makes everyone else believe that you have lost your simple mind.

Holy magnificent madness, Batman!

“Mother,” I screamed, reeling from the topsy-turvy condition of the Chrysler, “you are up on the curb!”

For some unholy reason, the Chrysler continued around the curb of the median like a train on a rail headed for teenage hell.

The Shirley let go another unbridled laugh and said, “well, we’re already up here, might as well continue!” And she did too…she actually completed the u-turn with both left tires firmly hooked up over the curving curb of the median, until….

SMACK! The car slammed back down onto the pavement with a force that I’m sure shocked the shocks! We rocked, we rolled, we bounced to and fro as The Shirley laughed hysterically while pulling the car back into submission. I hunkered down in my seat and uttered silent curses upon the checkbook for not being in The Shirley’s purse, thereby causing this catastrophe.

I reveled in the desperate hope that there was a slight chance that Mr. Cool Tool would think it was not me, not us, not my mother performing this sloppy, ineffective, half-bidden effort for a u-turn! It was the ‘70s after all and there were lots of silver Chryslers.

Of course Mr. Cool Tool knew it was us. Leave it to say, we didn’t date for long.

I’m sure that, after reading the Shirley Diaries: Driving Under the Influence of Laughter, that you think I’ve made some of this up, or that I’ve embellished, or that I’m in deep therapy! Believe me, I speak the truth….you can’t make this stuff up! I also have a witness…my similarly scarred sister, The Lydia.

I’m sure you may also think that all this driving madness runs in the family and has affected my own driving habits. It has, but not in the way you may think. Being a survivor of The Shirley has actually perfected my driving endeavors. Consequently I have learned to drive like a champ! I can maneuver a mid-sized SUV like a spiffy Italian sports car – expertly avoiding small children, dogs and armadillos – with the finesse of steering a large rodeo horse through a barrel race. I can skillfully traverse speed bumps with gentle grace, secure in my knowledge that they really are lumps of cement designed to slow one down for a reason.

My sister, on the other hand – The Lydia – has become her own personal version of The Shirley. This ‘nut’ fell only so far as the base of the tree and was forced to grow in the shade of The Shirley. With no hungry squirrel to safely carry her off to another yard, The Lydia has racked up miles of her own auto episodes, although not as serious in nature. Yes, The Lydia also has a history rich in comedy of error-type driving events.

What’s the twist? It’s two-fold. Firstly, The Lydia doesn’t toss her head back and cackle hysterically in the wake of her driving perversions. Nope, not at all. The Lydia giggles! Wildly, whacky, passionate giggles of goofiness will spew from her lips as she wipes beads of sweat from her brow in a mock ‘whew, I can’t believe we lived through it’ gesture'. Secondly, The Lydia does have some sense of decorum when it comes to embarrassing driving moments. That is, she will nervously…while giggling with the veracity of a hyena on steroids…look around her to see who was watching, who saw her do that crazy thing.

Meanwhile, The Shirley and her beau of 44 years have retired to the country. When I drive her anywhere she is always prompting me to go faster, telling me, “the speed limit is 70 here!” even though I’m going 68mph. She continues to drive wildly, but now cows as well as people, have to avoid her four-wheeled assault.

I’m certain, however, that tales of The Shirley still float around the Southwest Houston area. Teenagers there probably think tales of The Shirley are just an Urban Legend, designed by parental units to intimidate snipe-y teenagers into behaving like human beings. I can hear the threats from here…. “if you don’t straighten up and fly right, I’ll go Shirley on you, mister! Then we’ll see who’s embarrassed!”

As for me and my sister, we can only laugh – sometimes snorting wine through our nostrils – as we recount the tales of The Shirley. We love to tell them in front of her to get her glorious reactions. She never fails to disappoint as she recoils – laughing loudly, mind you – and claims not to remember this or that.

But, I am happy to report that we have survived. We have laughed uproariously about her and we have put down deep roots and bloomed in the shade of The Shirley!

© July/2008 by C. D. Duffin
All Rights Reserved – Used by Permission
Contact Author

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Diary of a Madcap Mama! -- PART 2

2008-05-19T09:17:00.011-05:00

The Shirley Diaries: Driving Under the Influence of Laughter

Part 2

Joining the Drama Club turned out to be a major turning point in my young life. Not only because I grew up to be a playwright and a performer, but also because it turned out to be a great evasive maneuver for further embarrassing afterschool pick-ups by The Shirley. Several of the ‘drama kids’ were a year or two older, could drive and had their very own cars! Thus, it was always easy to find an uneventful ride home in a dented Gremlin or pint-sized Pinto. In the few instances that my mom did have to come get me after a late afternoon rehearsal, she would take one of my other friends home too. As I sat in the front seat nervously scanning the road ahead for speed bumps, my theater friends found The Shirley a funny and charming character! A real hoot!

I am certain no one ever referred to June Cleaver as ‘a real hoot’!

At the age of fifteen I was euphoric to receive my driver’s permit. Hooray for me, I would soon be free of The Shirley’s driving dramas! Ah, the ignorance of youth is like a warm, fuzzy, security blanket with the power to protect you from – or smother you with – the truth. My eager entry into the world of driving would only serve to highlight The Shirley’s ability to drive under the influence of laughter.

My dad, a hard working petroleum data engineer – and dare I say, an excellent driver – purchased an older car to get him to and from his vanpool meeting place. (Whether he participated in a vanpool out of self-preservation, ecological or economical preservation, or just because he was too sleepy to be sitting in traffic that early is unclear. But as far as I’m concerned, he deserves applause for his early carpooling efforts.) Dad’s acquisition of an early 1960-something, paint-dulled, turquoise Plymouth Valiant with push button shift control was fascinating to me. You didn’t have to pull the gear shift into drive or reverse, you simply pressed the appropriate button! Okay, the car was twelve to fifteen years old already, but still, push buttons! Very ‘George Jetson’!

June Cleaver would have been suitably impressed.

Since dad had to travel for business every now and again, he would ask The Shirley to start up the Valiant and let it idle a bit, just to keep it running. This was heaven to me! I would beg my mom to let me start the turquoise behemoth and she would agree. To further my driving experience, The Shirley would let me push the reverse button and back the car down the driveway, then push the drive button and inch slowly back up to the Valiant’s parking place in front of the garage door. Freedom, glorious freedom, was on the horizon! I was driving! Well, just up and down the driveway, but still, I was driving! That is, until I was crashing!

One day, with The Shirley laughing nervously in the passenger seat beside me, I slowly pulled the turquoise Valiant back into its parking place in front of the garage door. Foot firmly on the brake, I turned to mom and asked if we could back it out just one more time. She laughed apprehensively and said okay. I gently stepped on the gas pedal and slowly – very, very slowly – we inched forward. Instantly realizing we were still in drive, rather than the necessary reverse, I started to lift my foot from the accelerator and was going to place it firmly on the brake. But before I could fully execute the maneuver The Shirley simultaneously gasped and leapt over from her side of the bench seat at lightning speed! A shrieking noise that sounded something like a high-pitched laugh and a bit like a dying crane gurgled out of The Shirley’s throat and bloodied my eardrums! She urgently, and brutally, slammed her tennis-shoed foot down upon my nakedly-sandaled one, trapping my perfectly painted pink toenails between the gas pedal and her foot! Our feet mated in mutual madness – my right foot trying desperately to escape the assault and withdraw to the brake pedal, her left foot pressing down still harder – as they plunged downwards onto the anxious accelerator which, of course, hurtled us into the closed garage door!

Crash, bang, boom! Luckily, the garage door was down and saved us from lurching into the relatively empty garage where we could have run over an innocent roller skate…or a ball…or a kite!

And so, there we sat for a moment, me with a crushed right foot and bleeding ears. The Shirley with an un-Shirley like scowl. I gawked at her in horrified shock. She gazed at me in flustered disbelief. The brave Valiant, motor still humming, patiently awaited my push-button instructions. The garage door was bowed in like a clumsy actor taking a curtain call after a bad performance.

And then something truly amazing happened! The Shirley accused me of wrecking the car!

The Shirley gave a nervous little laugh, then said, “CHERYL! I can’t believe you rammed the car into the garage door!”

WHAT?

I wailed back ferociously, “MOTHER! YOU rammed the car into the garage door! And I think you broke my foot!”

The Shirley replied smartly, “I was stepping on the brake! YOU had it in the wrong gear!”

I huffed, as I pushed the park button, “YOU were stepping on MY FOOT! And you were stepping on the accelerator, not the brake!”

I hoisted my dying right foot into my lap and rubbed at the bright red skin. I looked more closely at my foot and saw that it now had the imprint of the bottom of The Shirley’s tennis shoe stamped across the top. Wavy lines with a big 7 for the shoe size decorated the skin on my foot like a tattoo! That was not going to look pretty on the beach.

The Valiant, being made from steel – because that’s what they used to build cars out of, kiddies! – was unharmed in the fiasco. The garage door, however, had to be replaced. I think dad had some kind of fantastic insurance that magically took care of all accidents involving The Shirley.

This incident – now famous in our family as The Day Cheryl Rammed the Old Valiant into the Garage Door (whatever!) – was only the beginning of what The Shirley had up her sleeve!

(To be gloriously continued…)

© June/2008 by C. D. Duffin
All Rights Reserved – Used by Permission
Contact Author

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Diary of a Madcap Mama! -- PART 1

2008-05-16T15:56:00.025-05:00

The Shirley Diaries: Driving Under the Influence of Laughter
Part 1

My mother’s name is Shirley, though I’ve often thought of her as Lucille Ball. Not that she has red hair, or that she is an actress (though she probably missed her calling, for she would have been a skilled comedienne), but she just has a way about her….a very funny way about her!

It has not escaped my attention that my mother and some of her outrageous life moments coincided far too often with my humiliation. Coincidence? Maybe. But I have no real evidence that would stand up in a court of law.

Shirley is not a name you hear very often these days. The proper English pronunciation is SURE-lee…..as in, SURELY you will be loved, SURELY you will be supported, SURELY you will be fed, cleaned, clothed and SURELY you will be properly and humorously humiliated – as every teen should be – by their mother. I like to refer to this woman, my mother, as The Shirley. This is because she is the only Shirley I know, and SURE-ly there is no one else like her!

When I was very young, I remember hearing Psalms 23 in church one Sunday. “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever." To my childish ears, I heard, “Shirley, goodness and mercy shall follow me…” At first I found it comforting that The Shirley would always follow me and she would have goodness and mercy with her. Later in life, I began to suspect that I would never shake The Shirley and that she had substituted a lead foot for the goodness and booming laughter for the mercy!

I first suspected something was amiss when I was in Elementary school. It was prior to fourth grade, though I can’t say how old I was, but I can say that I remember the day vividly. You see, I got to walk to and from school back then and I thought it was pretty cool. The Beaver always walked to and from school on Leave it to Beaver, not that I’m claiming to have lived an idyllic Leave it to Beaver-ish sort of existence….but things were on an even keel, and that’s important to a kid. But one day my mother surprised me by picking me up at school! I was so excited to see her! I loved my mother! My mother wasn’t like other mothers – call me naïve, call me ignorant, call me a therapist, please! – you see, my mother was always smiling. She had a very pretty smile, broad with straight white teeth (and this is long before teeth whitening came into vogue). She often reminded me of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland.

That day, the day she unexpectedly picked me up from school, she was NOT smiling! I crawled into the car, wondering why I was being picked up. It took only a momentary glance at my mom, The Shirley, to see that there was something quite wrong. My mother, the now unsmiling, furrow-browed creature sitting behind the wheel of the silver 1964 Chevy II, was sporting a perfectly coifed head of GREEN HAIR!!! GREEN! It was olive green to be precise, and believe me it was very….well, green. It looked like a large green Spanish olive had tried to swallow The Shirley! Seriously, add a little cream cheese to the top of her head and she’d have looked like an appetizer for a giant fairytale hand! Why she'd felt the need to curl, dry, tease and spray her green locks into a perfectly coifed confection, still puzzles me to this very day. It also bears mentioning that she had taken the time to put on make-up! The Shirley was an enigma even with green hair.

June Cleaver never had green hair!

Before I could say anything, she put the car in drive and we rolled out of the pick-up zone. I looked over at her olive green hair and said, “mom, your hair is….green.”

The Shirley looked at me seriously and said, “Yes, I know. I had a hair dying accident. We have to get to the beauty supply before they close!”

At that point, we reached the street and she stopped and looked both ways. I sat perched in the front seat, lap belt across my hips, innocent and ignorant of just how desperate my mother was to get to that beauty supply store. The traffic kept coming and my mother decided to ‘floor it’ to get us out of the school parking lot. Almost at once the rear of the car seemed to leap up as the back right tire hooked onto the curb as we swung out and around onto the road. The orange belted crossing guard and the ten or so kids that were standing there, leapt back in surprise. As we bounced down from the curb, my head nodding like a deranged bobble-doll, traffic in front of us suddenly stopped. Mom threw her arm across my chest – the custom of the lap belt days – as she slammed on the breaks. My bobbling head shot forward and then bounced back into alignment with my body, which had been held skillfully against the red seat by The Shirley’s arm. Gee, I thought, rubbing my flat chest, I hope she slows down so I can live to see her hair brown again!

Quite an adventure for an inexperienced youth like myself…but, no worries, The Shirley had many more incidents…uh, er…. adventures planned! A few years later the silver Chevy II with the lap belts was replaced by a brand new two-door 1969 Chevy Nova. The Nova was cool looking! It was sleek and modern with shoulder belts that would prove invaluable to me in the coming years. And, it was misty green, a color reminiscent of my mom's long ago hair coloring incident -- ah, good times!

This cool looking car, however, prompted my mother to sharpen her wild driving skills. She drove much faster, it seemed, and mastered the art of hysterical laughter while executing u-turns, speed bumps and school pick-ups. The Shirley used the Nova as a weapon of mass distraction. She could stop on a dime on the crest of a curb and draw the stunned attention of all who lingered. They were shocked…they were awed…they were laughing in our wake and my mother was laughing along with them, 'hoo-hawing' over her own driving escapades.

This is all very funny now, but it had its crippling moments when I became a teenager. I was on drill team in high school and had to be picked up after late afternoon practice sessions. The younger girls that didn’t drive yet, like me, waited together on the front curb of the circle drive in front of the school. Books stacked amid overworked pom-poms, cold cans of sodas dripping in the Texas sun, and twenty or so gabbing girls decorated the pick-up zone on the front circle drive. Naturally, the stage was set for my mom to be the FIRST mom to arrive – lucky, lucky me!

Enter stage right, The Shirley, careening down the road and flying way too fast over the speed bumps designed to slow an everyday normal person down. The Shirley was not an everyday normal person.

My mom treated speed bumps as though they were really just flat pavement with shadows painted on it to look like speed bumps. Sometimes I was afraid that she would hit a speed bump so fast that the car would actually take flight…a pure blast of jet heat shooting from the rear of the Nova that would rocket my mom upwards, into the wild blue yonder of the Texas sky. Milky Way bound! She would be the first Shirley on the moon!

I stood there, soda in hand, eyes wide and deer-like, while the other girls tittered and wondered to each other in hushed, giggling tones, whose crazy mother that was roaring over the speed bumps at twice the speed of sound? I stood silent and lock-kneed; hoping the half empty orange soda in my hand was tainted with hemlock. To my immense dismay, it turned out be an ordinary soda with no power to save me from my madcap mama! I briefly considered pretending to die in order to draw the attention away from the charging Nova. This seemed short-sighted though and I decided instead to act mortified…which was not difficult at all.

But this was only the beginning of the circus act, I would quickly understand with genuine horror, as The Shirley turned the harassed Nova into the school pick-up circle. She raced up to the curb, slapdash, engine roaring, tires scurrying to find traction under her inability to take flight. I watched The Shirley-driven super Nova as she skidded to a last minute stop causing me and the rest of the waiting drill team to jump back from the curb, pom-poms swishing, books scattering, and tanned limbs scampering for safety.

The Shirley was upon us! I glanced through the windshield to see her there, smiling, always smiling, always happy to see me. I was fourteen and therefore, did not feel the same way at that precise moment.

Head down, I gathered my books and pom-poms and tried to make my escape like a bad magician being booed off the stage by a bunch of popular drill team girls. When I reached for the door handle, I noticed something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. The angle of the car was….well, lopsided! My mind raced to balance what I knew for certain – that cars sit flat on the ground – against what I was actually seeing! I stepped back and took a good look at the odd situation.

To my complete astonishment – or amazement or surprise or, well, let’s call it PETRIFIED SHOCK – my mom, The Shirley, had managed to lop her front right tire up onto the curb!!! I was certain I would die, I wished I could die….death would have been especially welcome at that moment! Damn that hemlock-free orange soda! I was certain this was something from which a fourteen year old girl could not recover!

I stood, for what felt like hours – though I’m sure it was mere seconds – and waited for death to bring some conclusion to my horrification. But my mom, The Shirley, still smiling like a Cheshire cat with a belly full of bird, slid across the seat and unrolled the window (no electric windows for us!) and said, “What is wrong with you, Cher? Get in the car now! We have to stop by the store and pick up some Preparation H for your father!” I dropped my pom-poms and promptly melted into the comfort of the 101° concrete.

Okay, in all fairness to The Shirley, she didn’t actually say the part about Preparation H. I made that up to put an exclamation point on how horror-struck I was that day. She did, however, manually roll down the window and - while smiling that brilliant smile - commanded me to get into the car; the lopsided object of my disdain, the two-door torture chamber on wheels, the assaulted Nova that would not fly...The Shirley-mobile!

I sighed and quickly accepted that death was not forthcoming. I picked up my pom-poms and stepped over to the topsy-turvy Nova. You have not learned true humiliation until you have had to smash a couple of oversized pom-poms through the window of a car that wants to leave the situation as badly as you. The engine simmered with anticipation of making a quick getaway! I dipped myself and my books down, down, down into the poor Nova that was parked lopsided….one quarter hunched up onto the curb… three-quarters lollygagging on the pavement.

Before I could get the door shut, the Nova’s engine roared loudly, but did not move forward. Puzzled, I turned to look at The Shirley who had thrown her head back in unbridled laughter and then resettled herself at the wheel.

“I guess it would help if I had it in gear, huh sweetie?” She laughed again, joy bubbling from her Lucille Ball-self.

Can you say mortified? Can you say scarred? Can you say psychotherapy with a tequila chaser, please?

Mom put the car in drive and heaved the beleaguered Nova off the curb and out of the circle drive. As she ‘floored it’ out onto the roadway The Shirley managed to cut the corner too close, leaving the rear right tire to ‘harumpf’ down into the trough where the road broke away into ditch. Sometimes, late at night, I can still hear the cackling laughter of the drill team as we roared away from the scene of the crime.

That year, I quit the drill team and joined the Drama Club.

(To be gloriously continued…)

© May/2008 C. D. Duffin
Used by Permission
Contact Author

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Big Texas Love - an essay from the heart

2008-05-15T19:35:00.002-05:00

I have not been in love with Texas my whole life; at least that’s what I thought. Regardless, I was born and homegrown here and – with only a brief, and icy, six-year stint in Chicago – have happily remained here. Texas has grown on me like honey-suckle on a rusted barbed wire fence; slow, sweet and tangled. I find myself pleasantly intertwined with my big Texas roots to the point that they sometimes trip me, leaving me sprawled and giggling, with buttercup pollen caked on the tip of my freckled nose.

My love affair with Texas began, unbeknownst to me, as a young girl. We lived in Houston, where my mother’s family sprang from, but my dad was from Hochheim (yes, that’s two H’s), Texas. Dad grew up picking cotton and corn on his father’s farm, helping with the cattle and driving the family pickup at too young an age to mention.

Hochheim sits nestled in a triangle formed by Shiner, Yoakum and Cuero, and is about eighty-five miles southeast of the Alamo. It has one church with one graveyard, where you can get baptized, married or buried – it’s a full service church. There are giant bales of rolled hay in many of the fields and gentle mooing beasts with large brown eyes munching hay or loafing under shade trees. And it has one, two-lane road that runs through the shriveled heart of what’s left.

More interesting to me is what Hochheim used to have; one country store where you could buy a Big Red soda and enjoy it in a rusted metal chair out front, while the grown folks chewed the fat, chewed the cud or gossiped like little old ladies. There was one post office where you could mail letters to large cities that sounded important and faraway, like New York and Chicago, or even more intriguing, Dallas and San Antonio. And cotton fields overflowing with sharply pricked boles exploding with fluffy cloud-like fibers. But Hochheim also had something more memorable.
Mama Daisy and Daddy Joe were my dad’s parents and they were hardcore Texas farming stock. Tales from my daddy’s childhood painted a canvas of a hard farming life that I am certain, to this day, I’m better off to have escaped. However, my relation to them, being the grandchild and not the child, was less stressful.

I remember sitting on the front porch of their farmhouse late at night and looking up at the big Texas sky filled with zillions of gleaming Texas-sized stars. The grown folks would sit around and tell stories of breedin’ heifers, fire ants invadin’ the west corner of the cotton field and rattlesnakes the size of a man’s arm. I sat there, big-eyed and listening, as I watched daddy-longlegs scamper about the porch and lightning bugs blink a silent message out in the yard. Cicadas would hum out a song that supplied a natural soundtrack for the porch stories and the Texas moon would add just enough light to make the road at the hilltop glow like a silver thread.

My mother would inevitably fetch me from the front porch for a bath. In the rear of the house the kitchen – turned “bathing” room by night – was ready to pull double duty. A large metal tub was brought in and filled up with buckets of water, some from the sink, some steaming hot from the stovetop. It always seemed odd bathing in the kitchen like that, naked and soapy in a room where only a couple of hours ago you’d consumed roast beef and potatoes. But it was even odder sitting out in the wooden outhouse with the daddy-longlegs – and watch out for the scorpions – to pee…or not to pee. Frankly, sometimes it’s hard to pee when you hear cattle munching grass just beyond the gate and you’re worried about getting stung by a scorpion!

The next day the kitchen would revert to its normal daily duties of churning out homemade provisions for all those who ventured into its hot fragrant air. Mama Daisy could cook up the branch of a dead pecan tree and bless it with delectable qualities beyond human comprehension.

Mornings brought scrambled eggs dripping with butter and bacon grease, crisp salty bacon and the smell of black coffee. By the afternoon, she was taking buttermilk soaked chicken, dipping it in flour and frying it up to crunchy perfection – the drumsticks were heaven on a bone! Mashed potatoes were not mashed, so much as whipped into passionate peaks of perfection. Gravy was studded with the leftover peppery bits from the fried chicken.

Oh, but the desserts! Miraculously crafted country confections that could turn the head of the most dedicated dieter! The kitchen counter seemed to be endlessly piled with a carnival of desserts. Frosted cherry cake, pecan pie, chocolate pie, and apple pie with the ever so slightly but intentionally over-browned crust, just the way I liked it – all sat ready to be gobbled. And, the queen mother of all Texas desserts…Lemon Meringue Pie! All hail the queen!

Mama Daisy’s lemon meringue pie was good for whatever ails a person! Bad mood? Lemon meringue pie! Tummy ache? Lemon meringue pie! Swollen feet from wearin’ yur boots a might too tight? Lemon Meringue Pie, my friend, lemon meringue pie! If it hurt, burned or was ‘all swelled up’, Mama Daisy’s lemon meringue pie could heal it, soothe it, or take the swellin’ out!

This was serious therapy and not to be taken lightly. Any Texas woman that’s ever had the good intention to make a lemon meringue pie knows about the tears involved. We are talking meringue tears, folks. Those syrupy dots of sugar that form on the tips of meringue peaks are nearly impossible to eradicate. It takes a master baker to make a proper meringue for a lemon meringue pie. Mama Daisy was a master baker.

Now Daddy Joe had his own ways about him. I remember him as a gentleman – though at such a tender age I was unaware of what a gentleman was – with a big brimmed hat. Not really a cowboy hat so to speak, but a farmer’s hat. At least I think that’s what it was. I remember him looking out at me from under the wide brim of that hat as the Texas sun beat down upon the crown of his straw covered head. I’ll always remember his eyes looking out from that hat, large and soulful. Funny thing is, I can’t remember what color his eyes were, but I do remember the deep soul that lived there. It was a caring soul. It was a hard working soul. It was a soul that understood life.

Daddy Joe died when I was young, but there were tales about him that were larger than the brim of his big Texas hat. There was the time he picked up a big Texas rattler by the tail and swung it around and around his head like a bullwhip! A reptile bullwhip! Whoopa-whoopa-whoopa, the rotating snake swished through the air over Daddy Joe’s head until, POP! The rattler’s head exploded off its body and flew through the air, leaving Daddy Joe standing there holding a bullwhip-like snake body, one end dripping reptile blood onto the hot Texas dirt. My dad told me this tale over and over, to my delight. I always wondered what that snake’s last thoughts were, if indeed a snake has thoughts. It probably thought he was caught up in some sort of magic whirlpool to hell….and at the hands of a man wearing a large brimmed hat, no less!

There was another story about Daddy Joe that I always think about when I hear the news about Iraq. He served in both WWI and WWII, a twenty-one year span between the two. I’m sure as a farm boy, he never imagined he would travel to such faraway places to shoot men he didn’t know. My dad remembers being a young boy and watching Daddy Joe change a light bulb when the radio announced that the US was joining the war in Europe. My dad recalls his father looking down at him from the height of the ladder and saying, “Well son, I s’pose I’ll be goin’ off to war, if they’ll still have me.” Daddy Joe did go off to war again.

One time he steered a ship through the Panama Canal with a gun to his head. He nervously gripped the ship’s wheel and carefully steered through the narrow canal. I can just imagine the sweat – from Panama heat or the hot metal of that gun against his scalp – sliding down the back of his sunburned Texas neck. Apparently he asked the guy to remove the gun, said the gun was making him nervous and he didn’t want to make a mistake and run the ship against the canal. From what my dad says, the soldier removed the gun, and they got safely through the canal.
Daddy Joe was blessed to make it back home to his family and his farm. And although he passed away while I was still knee-high to a grasshopper, his presence hung about the old place like sweet hay.

Mama Daisy stopped farming cotton, but continued with a hay field or two and some cattle. They loved her like Labradors! I remember her driving us down to the ‘bottom’ in her old, green, nineteen-forty-something Chevy, or perhaps it was a Ford. Whatever it was, it reminded me of a tank! The ‘bottom’ was where the land sloped down to the Guadalupe River, which curved through their land. Mesquite thorns would scrape along the side of the green car: scraping like witches fingernails on a dry chalkboard. The cows would hustle to be near the car, near her, for they knew from experience she’d brought salt licks and food cubes to munch. Sometimes, she’d even haul a square bale of hay in the trunk of that marvelous green tank!

I have strong memories of making the two hour drive from Houston to Hochheim, mesmerized by the orderly rows of cornfields, cotton, and whatever else farmers had a mind to grow. I was always captivated by the tidy rows flicking past, flick-flick-flick, until I was sick, causing an unscheduled stop for a good roadside vomit. I remember the smell of hay, as it was freshly cut and drying in the sun. I recall the hearty smell of cows and horses being towed in trailers just ahead of our car. I remember the excitement of being caught behind farmers riding their tractors up to this field, or that field. And I remember traveling behind large farming equipment – hay balers, corn harvesters – being delivered to someone’s farm. They were often too hard to overtake on the curling, slightly pregnant hills and required patience until the next opportunity to pass. Sometimes you couldn’t pass until after the next small town.

Every small town we rolled through brought new hope for a bathroom stop and the possibility of a Big Red for the road. Every town was different and the same. Dusty farming equipment sleepily strewn about, waiting to be useful. A gas station, sometimes two, possibly a small grocery store or a hardware store would line the main highway that cut through those graceful hamlets. Painted signs had all been uniformly faded by the hot Texas sun and drifted lazily back in forth in the occasional breeze that ebbed its way up from the coastline. Memories of driving through these towns always play back to me like an old movie from my past.

But one of my favorite memories is the parade of roadside flowers. During the springtime, bluebonnets and Indian paintbrushes would blanket the roadside hills in a quilt of explosive color. Lavender and white buttercups – my mother said these were weeds – stood as proud guardians of the Texas bluebonnets. Families of tourists, or maybe these were just proud Texans, would stop along the roadsides and snap pictures. Snap-click-snap-click! Babies in fields of periwinkle blues and red-orange blossoms are a happy sight! “Bluebonnet sitting,” I always thought to myself as we rolled by slowly, making our way behind another green tractor pulling a harvester. We never did stop and take our own pictures, and years later this would prompt me to stop and place my own baby son amongst the bluebonnets. That picture sits on my dresser, his bald baby head poking up soft and pink among all those periwinkle bonnets. He has a look of utter amazement on his face – an earthly cherub among blue Texas angels!

I am filled with ripe memories that spill over and splash into my present life. My pink-headed baby boy has grown into a fine nine-year old son who travels with me every summer to perform for children at Texas libraries. He’s already seen a lot of dusty Texas towns and seems to enjoy the sights as much as I do. I secretly know that he is storing up memories for his own children. He, too, gets excited about being stuck behind an occasional tractor or seeing the bluebonnets burst at the first sign of spring. He wants to stop and take another picture in the bluebonnets, but the last few dry years haven’t brought us across a field exploding in fine Texas blue.

He thinks the corroded, farming equipment will one day be valuable – I think he’s right, but only as the rusty antique of a lost farm. He thinks one day he will borrow my cousin’s big, red tractor and plow fields for all the little old ladies who have lost their families. He says he will plant corn and bluebonnets in their empty fields and this will make them happy, seeing their fields, once again alive with promise. I marvel that someone who is only nine, and a city boy to boot, has such magical plans. But then I realize with a lurch of my Texas heart, that he has Texas running through his veins like gold. His heart is tangled with the roots of bluebonnets, just as mine is with honeysuckle. He can’t believe how blue the sky can be here. I tell him it’s bluer here than in Chicago, and I know this to be completely true. He says he will one day leave Houston after he’s been an Astros player, an astronaut and the President of the United States, and move to the country where he will plow up the fields all around my parent’s and grandparent’s houses. I believe that he will and new dreams will grow.

Sometimes when visiting my parents in Hochheim, we lay on their driveway late at night, mother and son, side by side. We first shine the flashlight on the drive to make sure there are no scorpions. Then we lay back, heads together on the still hot cement, and take turns looking up at the Texas stars. A giant dome of stars stares back at us and we take turns gazing through a pair of binoculars to bring them closer. The stars cloak the sky from east to west, north to south and we feel like happy bugs under a glass dome. We are making memories.

My cousin – the one with the big, red tractor – recently wrote in an email, ironically enough, that in an age of cell phones, email, laptop computers, Jacuzzi tubs in bathrooms, professionally managed portfolios, digital cable and satellite radios in our cars, it’s really our memories of simple things that make us feel a part of something. I believe he’s hit the nail on the head with a big ole’ Texas hammer!

Texas makes me feel a part of something big. You can’t look at the vast azure sky and not feel enchanted, hopeful. A bit of my childhood leaks out each time I see bluebonnets, or stars, or cattle, or cornfields. I may travel to see other places, I may even live in other places, but there is only one place I will call home…Texas. It’s my childhood, my husband’s childhood and my son’s childhood. It leaves us filled up and in love with life. In love with each other and in love with Texas too. It’s a big love! A BIG TEXAS LOVE!

© March/2007
C.D. Duffin
Used by permission

It's a LOUD Speaker, Duh! (or, where's the miso?)

2008-05-14T15:45:00.003-05:00

Okay, this is not the first time this has happened, in fact, I've been noticing it a great deal over the last year or so...though it's probably been going on for much longer! The loud speaker at the grocery store....need I say more? Okay, I will. I hate grocery shopping! But it is a complicated emotion because I LOVE to cook! Well, you gotta grocery shop in order to cook. It's a fact of life, like puberty, or IHOP (that's a restaurant acronym, not an Internet acronym). In order to do the cooking I love, I must shop! In order to shop, I must enter the kingdom of food in a a semi-Zen-like state. I must -- in a yogic frame of mind -- force myself through the double glass doors that happily whiz open at my approach.... welcoming me into the sanctuary of food-dom. Food, to be cooked, to be enjoyed, to be shared, to provide sustenance and to....well, I could go on, but that's not the purpose of this particular post. Okay, more on food later (I promise)! But for now....

Use your imagination for a moment....you're in the grocery store -- let's say on aisle 11 -- and you are trying to decide what to substitute for the white miso paste that you need for a salmon recipe. You've planned the dinner so carefully, so very lovingly! You know your son has been craving steamed carrots, your husband desires swiss chard (and you, but that's later!), and it will all work so lovely nestled together on a plate with a glistening, white miso glazed salmon! But -- oh, my stars and garters! -- they have NO white miso paste at all....none! You are mortified! You are dazed and confused! You already have the salmon, wrapped in its butcher paper cocoon, sitting prettily in the top shelf of the cart - the one your, now 10 year old, son used to occupy -- and the bright orange carrots, their giddy, green tops foppishly grinning, are snugged in their organically-marked (ha!) plastic bag....and the swiss chard...oh, the swiss chard is actually mocking you from its bulging cellophane! But, the last item on the list, the white miso paste for the, now curt, salmon is MIA! Your knees lock and from some inflexible place deep in your solar plexus, a deep sigh gurgles up, a soft moan. Your sight dims a little....are you faint? Yes, you feel faint.

Then, just before you can check your pulse or test yourself for signs of life by slurping in a cleansing breath.......the speaker....THAT obnoxious speaker that is ALWAYS so very conveniently located EXACTLY above your delicate head.....BOOMS!!!!

"CLEAN UP ON AISLE NINE!"

Wha? You immediately bound back from your shopping stupor! And then....

"MANAGER TO THE COURTESY BOOTH! MANAGER TO THE COURTESY BOOTH!"

I...uh....miso....I'm looking for white miso! Let's see...yes, that's right, there is no white miso. Okay, let's think substitution, Cher. What can one substitute for white miso? Oh, I know...how about the brown miso? Yes, that would work....uh...except.....okay, there is no brown miso. Or red miso....or...

"FLORIST DEPARTMENT, CALL ON LINE FIVE, LINE FIVE, FLORIST DEPARTMENT, LINE FIVE, PLEASE!!"

HUH? Oh, miso! Okay, there is no miso. Should I make something else for dinner, or no, the swiss chard is smirking, stick to the salmon....maybe the miso is just stored on some other aisle? Or maybe..........

"PHARMACY, LINE TWO, LINE TWO, PHARMACY!!!"

Errr....uh....where am I? What am I doing? Take me to your leader...NO! Get a grip, chick! Now, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is....find the miso paste! Be it white, brown or red....find the miso! Be the miso! You are the miso! Now where is the mis.....

"JOSE CUERVO, YOU ARE A FRIEND OF MINE! JOSE CUERVO! YOU HAVE A FRIEND ON LINE NINE!"

You know, I don't know why, but I have a craving for a Margarita! Maybe I could put the carrots back and hide the salmon with the frozen shrimp and just cut my losses and go to Cyclone Anayas and have a midday, frozen rita with a grand marnier shot and just.....let the miso go! I could call Pink's for pizza delivery tonight -- who needs to cook? Wait.... is the swiss chard actually smirking......MISO! Find the miso! Your mind is wandering, stay focused!!

"BAKERY, LINE TWO, LINE TWO, BAKERY!"

Uh....AH! STOP YELLING AT MY HEAD! I NEED TO FIND THE MISO!

Okay, my point -- and in true Ellen-wisdom, I do have one! -- is, why do they have to YELL into a LOUD SPEAKER? I mean, it's a LOUD SPEAKER! It is meant to AMPLIFY your voice. You do not need to YELL into a LOUD SPEAKER to be heard! Its very name should indicate to the user that it is unnecessary to talk any louder than your lovely everyday, inside voice! The LOUD SPEAKER will take your lovely everyday, inside voice -- no matter how modest -- and properly AMPLIFY it to be heard by all employees and shoppers! Simply talk into the LOUD SPEAKER and your lovely everyday, inside voice will be magically AMPLIFIED at a loud enough level for even the tiniest eardrum! Honestly, fairies in Midsummer Night's Dream will be able to here you! That's because it's a LOUD SPEAKER.....Not a YELL-INTO-IT-SPEAKER! Please, spare the eardrums of the grocery shoppers! Simply talk....using your lovely everyday, inside voice.....and you will be appreciated by all Foodies that flock to the kingdom of food! Help preserve their semi-Zen-like states....and their delicate eardrums! Peace for grocery shoppers everywhere! That is my mantra! Seriously, or their heads....okay, MY head could explode. And that will be far messier than cleaning up a splattered jar of greasy mayonnaise!

"CLEAN UP ON AISLE ELEVEN! AISLE ELEVEN, CLEAN UP....AND WHERE IS THE MISO LOCATED? MISO, MISO, REPORT TO CHECKOUT IMMEDIATELY!"

'nuff said...I dearly hope....

c May/2008 by C. D. Duffin
used by permission, contact author

Essays of a Texas Playwright...

2008-05-13T22:36:00.002-05:00

I've wanted to start one of these, but too much to do and not enough time....that's right, your first thought is probably correct! I'm a MOM! But, I'm also a playwright. And an actor (sometimes). And a professional storyteller - to make a buck!

I want a place to post musings, thoughts and some writing - this seems like a good spot. So I think I'll stretch and settle in a bit.

See you soon!