My well is dry. I don't mean this as an expression! I have no water in my well. The fact that the well is dry will absolutely impact the potential sale of my house. Ya think? I have a cistern/tank that will be filled sometime in the next few days. Until then, we are on bottled water and "if it's yellow, let it mellow" mode. Gross, I know.
Here's the way I've been looking at my place for quite some time:
Plan A:
Keep it with all the worries and baggage that go with it.
Plan B:
Sell it and get out from under it ASAP
Plan C:
(Now, there's a Plan C)
With the well issue, I'm having to consider what Plan C might be. The house looks great now and I have started to show it the love it had ben lacking. I need to continue on the inside and move onto the outside, the barn, the wellhouse, the trails, the wildflowers and the trees.
It's funny how you fix up the place like you would like it to be just when you are trying to unload it. Well maybe that's not the case here now. I might have to embrace this place and hang with it for a significant period of time. Things I've envisioned at this place over time have included...
- Rainwater collection (really?)
- Outdoor kitchen/oven/pit/grill
- A huge vegetable garden
- Goats and chickens
- Bird and butterfly gardens
- Sculpted hiking trails
- Screened shelter with fans and hammocks and stone patio near the outdoor cooking area.
- Hot tub/no...COLD tub
I'd like water flowing from my pipes inside my house too. Is that too much to ask?
Sunday
Friday
Colorado 2010
The kids and I are heading out to Santa Fe to visit Lis and then on to Mark's place. It occurred to me that I wrote some stories last year that I never posted. I think it will be fun to see last years memories up next to my fun this year. I've had a great year with all kinds of unexpected twists and turns...almost all good, but even when not so good, turned a light on for me and moved me onward and upward.
July 19, 2010
Guess one lone coyote might sound, to me, like an bugling elk, but Paul heard it too and says, no it was a coyote. Either way it is a lovely sound to hear out your window at night with the coolness creeping in through the screens.
Today, fishing was on the agenda, so Paul, Sherry, James, Daniel and I headed up the "the meadows". Daniel doesn't remember any of this but he did actually fish in Colorado as a 5 year old. This time Paul is going to introduce him to fly fishing. They get him a license at 3 Rivers in Almont and we head out. We stopped at what used to be Spring Creek Resort, and I can't even be sad or nostalgic because it's simply not there anymore. Even the Big Rock doesn't look the same. I'm relieved actually, because I feared that this trip might make me feel sad in some ways, but it hasn't and I only feel happpy and relaxed for the first time in quite some time. I have no cell phone reception and the only people I want to communicate with beside Lis are here with me. Peace at last...
So I watched Paul teach Daniel to fly fish and even though he didn't catch anything he said he likes it and wants to do it again. It's so beautiful out here and I love watching them walk up the river, casting. It's like watching a memory; a dream; a lovely memory and a dream come true.
As soon as Sherry stepped into the river, a couple of cows roamed down from a little valley across from her. One was mooing...bellowing, actually and looking directly at her like "Get the blank out of my stream!" It was so funny! Then 15 or 20 more cows/calves showed up behind the noisy one along with a cowboy hearding them to somewhere. From high on the nearest peak I could see across the stream, another bunch of cows emerged from the trees herded by another cowboy and 3 dogs. I live in Texas and I never see cowboys actually doing cowboy work. Marie would love this!
Ok, so I just heard the Elk Whistle/Coyote Howl...it's definately a coyote...but it's a little disturbing and somewhat lonely sounding if you ask me.
July 21, 2010
So we have heard stories over the years about the crash of an airplane during WWI above the Taylor. Krissy downloaded the coordinates on the hand held GPS and we headed out to try and find it. It was said to be a short but steep hike up the mountain. Um...yea...steep. Gretch passed because of her existing foot injury. I huffed and puffed until my quivering legs threatened to leave me stranded on the mountain. Paul, Sherry and all the kids made it up. There is debris and some large chunks of the plane up there along with a plaque and 7 or 8 flagpoles with American flags flying.
Our old friends, the Woodleys, had a guest for dinner who's dad apparently went down over Colorado during the war. They hiked up there and found his dad's name on the plaque. In all the years that we spent up here none of us know of this crash site until fairly recently (maybe 20 or so years.) None of us could ever get the correct directions to it either. Paul was told where to look and spent hours wandering around up there some years back and never found it. Funny thing is that the plane was said to have broken apart before impacting the mountain. We found parts and pieces at the base and there is a rumor that the Cumbys have a propellor in their garage.
After the big vertical hike, big burgers at the gas station and a sweet ride home to Mark's, I go to "my room" and there is a beautiful wind blowing through all of my windows. I strip down and put on my fleece and have an uncontrollable urge to take a long, lovely nap, so I do.
Mark golfs, Paul fishes, the kids and Gretchen play a loud marathon of Scrabble and I doze and have odd but not unpleasant dream. I officially have a room here. I like the sound of "Nancy's Room". Sweet.
July 19, 2010
Guess one lone coyote might sound, to me, like an bugling elk, but Paul heard it too and says, no it was a coyote. Either way it is a lovely sound to hear out your window at night with the coolness creeping in through the screens.
Today, fishing was on the agenda, so Paul, Sherry, James, Daniel and I headed up the "the meadows". Daniel doesn't remember any of this but he did actually fish in Colorado as a 5 year old. This time Paul is going to introduce him to fly fishing. They get him a license at 3 Rivers in Almont and we head out. We stopped at what used to be Spring Creek Resort, and I can't even be sad or nostalgic because it's simply not there anymore. Even the Big Rock doesn't look the same. I'm relieved actually, because I feared that this trip might make me feel sad in some ways, but it hasn't and I only feel happpy and relaxed for the first time in quite some time. I have no cell phone reception and the only people I want to communicate with beside Lis are here with me. Peace at last...
So I watched Paul teach Daniel to fly fish and even though he didn't catch anything he said he likes it and wants to do it again. It's so beautiful out here and I love watching them walk up the river, casting. It's like watching a memory; a dream; a lovely memory and a dream come true.
As soon as Sherry stepped into the river, a couple of cows roamed down from a little valley across from her. One was mooing...bellowing, actually and looking directly at her like "Get the blank out of my stream!" It was so funny! Then 15 or 20 more cows/calves showed up behind the noisy one along with a cowboy hearding them to somewhere. From high on the nearest peak I could see across the stream, another bunch of cows emerged from the trees herded by another cowboy and 3 dogs. I live in Texas and I never see cowboys actually doing cowboy work. Marie would love this!
Ok, so I just heard the Elk Whistle/Coyote Howl...it's definately a coyote...but it's a little disturbing and somewhat lonely sounding if you ask me.
July 21, 2010
So we have heard stories over the years about the crash of an airplane during WWI above the Taylor. Krissy downloaded the coordinates on the hand held GPS and we headed out to try and find it. It was said to be a short but steep hike up the mountain. Um...yea...steep. Gretch passed because of her existing foot injury. I huffed and puffed until my quivering legs threatened to leave me stranded on the mountain. Paul, Sherry and all the kids made it up. There is debris and some large chunks of the plane up there along with a plaque and 7 or 8 flagpoles with American flags flying.
Our old friends, the Woodleys, had a guest for dinner who's dad apparently went down over Colorado during the war. They hiked up there and found his dad's name on the plaque. In all the years that we spent up here none of us know of this crash site until fairly recently (maybe 20 or so years.) None of us could ever get the correct directions to it either. Paul was told where to look and spent hours wandering around up there some years back and never found it. Funny thing is that the plane was said to have broken apart before impacting the mountain. We found parts and pieces at the base and there is a rumor that the Cumbys have a propellor in their garage.
After the big vertical hike, big burgers at the gas station and a sweet ride home to Mark's, I go to "my room" and there is a beautiful wind blowing through all of my windows. I strip down and put on my fleece and have an uncontrollable urge to take a long, lovely nap, so I do.
Mark golfs, Paul fishes, the kids and Gretchen play a loud marathon of Scrabble and I doze and have odd but not unpleasant dream. I officially have a room here. I like the sound of "Nancy's Room". Sweet.
Monday
Work: It Can Be Fun!
About an hour after I got to the office the other day a city utility worker came in to tell us there was a water main break nearby and that they were shutting off the water. He said we would likely be without water for the rest of the day. That reminded me about the drought in the summer of 2009 when pipes were breaking all over the city because of the dry contracting soil. I find it strange that people weren't allowed to water their yards and because they didn't, their pipes broke and flooded everything.
I'm sitting on the beautiful front porch of the Littlefield office because we are locked out of the building. In addition to being without water, the electricity went off at about 2:30. For unknown reasons, 4000 people were without power. Jeff said "Four more degrees and everybody gets to go home". We waited around for an hour or so as the temperature crept up. Finally we all gave up and checked out at around 3:30. No lights, no phones, no computers, no water, and no AIR CONDITIONING = no work! No electricity also means no alarm system, so the accountants manually locked the doors. They are the only ones with keys, and they aren't here, so here I sit.
I arrived at the office at my usual 7:30 and when I realized that it could be awhile until we could get in, I ran up to Taco Shack for coffee and breakfast tacos. As usual there was a line of cars fifteen deep wrapped around the building making their way through the drive thru. I decided to park and eat in. There weren't many people eating inside but there were several that obviously use this place as their morning office. They spread out their work and pull out their lapto and their smart phone, eat a nice breakfast taco or some migas and refill their coffee cups over and over. I like the idea of working like that. Casual and relaxed and I bet, pretty productive. Nobody distracts them. They are in their own little world, removed from it all and yet in the midst of a cool Austin vibe.
As I sat on the porch of Littlefield, the six 3' by 5' American flags displayed on the columns and the giant 9' by 18' one hanging vertically down the middle blew softly in the light breeze. It was amazingly pleasant out there. The rain the other day washed the dust off of the trees and I had the illusion that things are lush and green. I could see water flowing in Shoal Creek that I could not see before the storm. The huge expanse of St. Augustine on the front lawn and the enormous landmark oaks were no doubt, grateful for the rainfall. Since we are in extreme drought conditions, there has been talk of the possibility for no measurable rainfall here until September.
I must have scared off the squirrels or at least confused them by sitting out here. Normally as I sit in my office looking out the french doors onto the porch, the squirrels scurry back and forth in little packs. Seriously, one day a line of six little guys ran across the porch and did that little circling thing they do around and around up into the oak trees.
I like to open the door in my office and let in some fresh air early in the morning. I keep thinking a squirrel might come inside. I did not expect a big ol' grackle to fly in though. That was pretty funny except for the part when it crapped on the wood floor then landed on the back of my chair. I was glad that Jeff was in South Carolina and that I had closed the door to his office. After the grackle flew back out the open door, I began to wonder what I would have done if he hadn't! I can picture everyone in the office trying to shoo the bird out while looking at me and shaking their heads.
For the past few days I've been thinking about the Independence Day cookout that we're going to have at the office. Kimble wheeled the big gas grill out to the front porch under the flags to be the chef for the day. He had suggested that I order everything that we'll need since there is is so little prep space in the little kitchen. It never really occurred to me that I could order everything from Central Market and pick it up or have it delivered. That is awesome! I ordered market hamburer patties, gourmet hot dogs, a tray of lettuce, tomato, onions and pickles. We had a cheese tray for the burgers, shredded cheese and chopped onions for the hot dogs and fresh bakery buns for all. Of course we had potato salad, coleslaw, beans, pineapple upside down cake and cherry and apple pie with ice cream.
Jeff got to the office just in time for lunch and, coincidently, just as the postman was delivering the mail. Jeff insisted that he join us for lunch and kept calling him "post office man". Wonder how many time in his career has Steve the postman been invited to an office cookout.
Jeff is always the life of the party and can talk about any subject. He had us all in stitches talking about guarding America's cheese stockpile when he was in the army and how a lot of the world's problems could be fought with cheese. "Bomb them with cheese!" More stories I'll capture in another installment of this blog will be Jeff's "Karma and The Fish Pen" and Kimble's story about "The Lady Boys" of Bonham, Texas (he corrected me...they were the "Lehde Brothers") a family of butchers with a perpetual and ongoing backyard barbecue with an open door policy.
Jeff handed me a list the other day detailing what he wanted me working on. It contained about fourteen items, some ongoing, some new ones. The last item on the list said "Play Bingo X 5".
I'm sitting on the beautiful front porch of the Littlefield office because we are locked out of the building. In addition to being without water, the electricity went off at about 2:30. For unknown reasons, 4000 people were without power. Jeff said "Four more degrees and everybody gets to go home". We waited around for an hour or so as the temperature crept up. Finally we all gave up and checked out at around 3:30. No lights, no phones, no computers, no water, and no AIR CONDITIONING = no work! No electricity also means no alarm system, so the accountants manually locked the doors. They are the only ones with keys, and they aren't here, so here I sit.
I arrived at the office at my usual 7:30 and when I realized that it could be awhile until we could get in, I ran up to Taco Shack for coffee and breakfast tacos. As usual there was a line of cars fifteen deep wrapped around the building making their way through the drive thru. I decided to park and eat in. There weren't many people eating inside but there were several that obviously use this place as their morning office. They spread out their work and pull out their lapto and their smart phone, eat a nice breakfast taco or some migas and refill their coffee cups over and over. I like the idea of working like that. Casual and relaxed and I bet, pretty productive. Nobody distracts them. They are in their own little world, removed from it all and yet in the midst of a cool Austin vibe.
As I sat on the porch of Littlefield, the six 3' by 5' American flags displayed on the columns and the giant 9' by 18' one hanging vertically down the middle blew softly in the light breeze. It was amazingly pleasant out there. The rain the other day washed the dust off of the trees and I had the illusion that things are lush and green. I could see water flowing in Shoal Creek that I could not see before the storm. The huge expanse of St. Augustine on the front lawn and the enormous landmark oaks were no doubt, grateful for the rainfall. Since we are in extreme drought conditions, there has been talk of the possibility for no measurable rainfall here until September.
I must have scared off the squirrels or at least confused them by sitting out here. Normally as I sit in my office looking out the french doors onto the porch, the squirrels scurry back and forth in little packs. Seriously, one day a line of six little guys ran across the porch and did that little circling thing they do around and around up into the oak trees.
I like to open the door in my office and let in some fresh air early in the morning. I keep thinking a squirrel might come inside. I did not expect a big ol' grackle to fly in though. That was pretty funny except for the part when it crapped on the wood floor then landed on the back of my chair. I was glad that Jeff was in South Carolina and that I had closed the door to his office. After the grackle flew back out the open door, I began to wonder what I would have done if he hadn't! I can picture everyone in the office trying to shoo the bird out while looking at me and shaking their heads.
For the past few days I've been thinking about the Independence Day cookout that we're going to have at the office. Kimble wheeled the big gas grill out to the front porch under the flags to be the chef for the day. He had suggested that I order everything that we'll need since there is is so little prep space in the little kitchen. It never really occurred to me that I could order everything from Central Market and pick it up or have it delivered. That is awesome! I ordered market hamburer patties, gourmet hot dogs, a tray of lettuce, tomato, onions and pickles. We had a cheese tray for the burgers, shredded cheese and chopped onions for the hot dogs and fresh bakery buns for all. Of course we had potato salad, coleslaw, beans, pineapple upside down cake and cherry and apple pie with ice cream.
Jeff got to the office just in time for lunch and, coincidently, just as the postman was delivering the mail. Jeff insisted that he join us for lunch and kept calling him "post office man". Wonder how many time in his career has Steve the postman been invited to an office cookout.
Jeff is always the life of the party and can talk about any subject. He had us all in stitches talking about guarding America's cheese stockpile when he was in the army and how a lot of the world's problems could be fought with cheese. "Bomb them with cheese!" More stories I'll capture in another installment of this blog will be Jeff's "Karma and The Fish Pen" and Kimble's story about "The Lady Boys" of Bonham, Texas (he corrected me...they were the "Lehde Brothers") a family of butchers with a perpetual and ongoing backyard barbecue with an open door policy.
Jeff handed me a list the other day detailing what he wanted me working on. It contained about fourteen items, some ongoing, some new ones. The last item on the list said "Play Bingo X 5".
Friday
Words With Friend
Me:
Don't you just love this descriptive forecast? Is it raining on you yet? Please describe to me what that's like!!
This
Afternoon
Hot
Hi 97 °F
My Friend:
As the gentle breeze carries the cool temperatures of the north woods of Canada into the broad expanse of Minnesota, there is a hint of rain as the air is endowed with moisture, seeking a collision with warmer air wafting up from the deep south to cause a release of a soft rain that will help sustain the 10,000 gleaming sky blue waters. The dark shafts of rain can be seen in the distance as the weary clouds release their loads. The Spring gardens are full of life and have myriad of green pallets.
How’s that?
I’m off to a meeting—yea!! :)
Me:
Spectacular! You make me smile.
Don't you just love this descriptive forecast? Is it raining on you yet? Please describe to me what that's like!!
This
Afternoon
Hot
Hi 97 °F
My Friend:
As the gentle breeze carries the cool temperatures of the north woods of Canada into the broad expanse of Minnesota, there is a hint of rain as the air is endowed with moisture, seeking a collision with warmer air wafting up from the deep south to cause a release of a soft rain that will help sustain the 10,000 gleaming sky blue waters. The dark shafts of rain can be seen in the distance as the weary clouds release their loads. The Spring gardens are full of life and have myriad of green pallets.
How’s that?
I’m off to a meeting—yea!! :)
Me:
Spectacular! You make me smile.
Sunday
Local Color
Kathleen and I had a little adventure in Austin the other day. We played Bingo. Maybe it sounds a little odd or out of character and perhaps it is, but we do like to experience local color where ever we are and this qualifies without a doubt.
Bingo halls are everywhere. It's likely that you have driven past large ex-supermarkets with waving flags, hugely lettered signs spelling out B-I-N-G-O and an overflowing parking lot on a Friday night. If you are like me you really never considered stopping to see what it was all about. You probably didn't give it a second glance or a second thought really.
I am not without curiosity so a new acquaintance of mine offered to show me what the game of Bingo is all about. Kathleen and I have no idea what to expect but we are game. We find my guy quickly when we walk into the giant non-smoking side of the hall. People are milling around and the long rows of tables are occupied here and there with single players and some with groups or couples who have come to play together.
Our Bingo tour guide is just the nicest of guys and has the gift of being part salesman, part comedian, part teacher and part businessman making him the ultimate host. He's just this lovely big ol' East Texas sweetie who has, what my friend Bill would call "The Teddy Bear Factor", meaning that people in the hall gravitate to him as one would a long time friend, seeing him as trustworthy, forthright and lovable. With all of this and the addition of his red tie and vest, he is nothing short of precious and endearing.
Apparently I had a misconception that the people here playing Bingo would be similar to the segment of the population that I found in the casino in Lake Charles last week. I had never been to a casino in my life and after that experience, I really have no desire to go to another one. I wandered aimlessly around that pretty upscale casino watching people play the Slots and Craps and various types of Poker and nothing about that experience appealed to me or even entertained me very much. I like "people watching", but even that didn't appeal to me at the casino.
Kathleen and I arrived at the Bingo hall shortly before the start of the first session because our host had told me earlier in the day that we should get there and get into the "Zen of the game" before the session started. I thought he was kidding me, but he was dead serious, explaining to me how Bingo is a quiet game that lets people just focus on the squares, the game, the numbers and the fellowship, allowing them to shut out all thoughts of their crappy jobs, bad marriages, financial woes and every other worry they might have in their life.
I am amazed by the diversity of the people here in the Bingo hall. I'm telling you, the ethnic diversity alone is pretty astounding, but the range in the age of the players is also eye opening for me. Our host whisked us past a fifty or even sixty-ish year old, possibly Filipino woman with a machine, multiple paper cards and a bevy of ink daubers in every color laid out in front of her on the table. Our host jokes with her like one would with his sister-in-law or something and says "I would seat y'all at this table, but she's mean!" They both laugh and she is just adorable.
I look around me and find that I am in an environment I really didn't expect to find in a Bingo Hall. It is super clean, organized, fun, and safe-feeling to this old girl. I think Kathleen is surprised as well. She had locked her purse in the trunk of her car, choosing not to bring it in with her. There is nothing rif-raffy about this place that maybe I expected. It seems like everyone is represented here. I see groups of sorority/fraternity kids, well dressed and diamond studded. I see single 50-ish year old men and women playing alone and happily not looking for a hook up. A young white woman sits behind me, a young black woman sits to her right, and a young hispanic girl sits one row down and to my left (and by "young" I mean they are each probably between 25 and 30 years old.) An older semi disabled woman comes in just prior to the second session. She is obviously a regular player and is treated like a queen by the staff. The staff, from what I've seen are all very friendly and energetic as they chat and joke with the players as they wander up and down selling pull tabs and extra game cards. They bend over backwards to make sure everyone is having a good time.
Our host explains "the roadmap" which is a list of the games that will be played during all the sessions that evening. He sets us up with electronic Bingo machines for the first session. These machines automatically mark some internal cards per game for you. You just hit a button when the number is called and watch the card populate. The machine keeps track of how close you are to winning with your cards moving up in the order as they get closer to a possible win. Neither of us wins during this session, but it gives us a really visual demonstration of how the games are played. The first session consisted of five games and lasted a little more than an hour.
For the second session, we decide to play the traditional paper card way. Our guy brings us a full pack of sheets for the second session and an ink dauber for each of us. Each sheet contains 12 bingo cards. You play one sheet per game, the color of the sheet corresponding to the color indicated on the road map. The caller announces the game and the wild numbers before he starts pulling balls. The games could be "Double Postage Stamp", "Granny's Quilt" or "3 Lines Hard Way, No Free Space" or a multitude of other games which are named based on the pattern required to win the game. I screwed up my first game just by marking my wild numbers wrong. I thought the caller said "any number with a two" was wild when in fact he said "any number ending in a two" is wild. Ok, Nancylou, pay attention!!!
I thought that Kathleen and I would probably run the risk of getting reprimanded for being too loud, 'cause we do tend to get loud and silly when we are together. But we managed to behave ourselves even with the "6 beers for 6 quarters bucket" of Costa Rican beer we had in front of us. I've known Kathleen for at least 15 years and she said to me "I don't think I've ever seen you drink a beer, Nancy". Well you never saw me play Bingo before either, did you?
We are playing and looking over each other's shoulder to see how our games were going. I'm distracted from time to time looking around at what's going on in the hall and watching in fascination at how some of the other players keep up with multiple "three up" sheets while simultaneously playing machines and buying extra cards for the next game. At one point Kathleen jabs me with her elbow to jolt me out of my people watching to tell me to mark the new number that was up on the monitor.
All in all I found this Bingo thing to not only be fun and friendly, but somehow it was also relaxing, mesmerizing, surprisingly exciting and in no way "as common as a grandma in a Bingo hall!"
Bingo halls are everywhere. It's likely that you have driven past large ex-supermarkets with waving flags, hugely lettered signs spelling out B-I-N-G-O and an overflowing parking lot on a Friday night. If you are like me you really never considered stopping to see what it was all about. You probably didn't give it a second glance or a second thought really.
I am not without curiosity so a new acquaintance of mine offered to show me what the game of Bingo is all about. Kathleen and I have no idea what to expect but we are game. We find my guy quickly when we walk into the giant non-smoking side of the hall. People are milling around and the long rows of tables are occupied here and there with single players and some with groups or couples who have come to play together.
Our Bingo tour guide is just the nicest of guys and has the gift of being part salesman, part comedian, part teacher and part businessman making him the ultimate host. He's just this lovely big ol' East Texas sweetie who has, what my friend Bill would call "The Teddy Bear Factor", meaning that people in the hall gravitate to him as one would a long time friend, seeing him as trustworthy, forthright and lovable. With all of this and the addition of his red tie and vest, he is nothing short of precious and endearing.
Apparently I had a misconception that the people here playing Bingo would be similar to the segment of the population that I found in the casino in Lake Charles last week. I had never been to a casino in my life and after that experience, I really have no desire to go to another one. I wandered aimlessly around that pretty upscale casino watching people play the Slots and Craps and various types of Poker and nothing about that experience appealed to me or even entertained me very much. I like "people watching", but even that didn't appeal to me at the casino.
Kathleen and I arrived at the Bingo hall shortly before the start of the first session because our host had told me earlier in the day that we should get there and get into the "Zen of the game" before the session started. I thought he was kidding me, but he was dead serious, explaining to me how Bingo is a quiet game that lets people just focus on the squares, the game, the numbers and the fellowship, allowing them to shut out all thoughts of their crappy jobs, bad marriages, financial woes and every other worry they might have in their life.
I am amazed by the diversity of the people here in the Bingo hall. I'm telling you, the ethnic diversity alone is pretty astounding, but the range in the age of the players is also eye opening for me. Our host whisked us past a fifty or even sixty-ish year old, possibly Filipino woman with a machine, multiple paper cards and a bevy of ink daubers in every color laid out in front of her on the table. Our host jokes with her like one would with his sister-in-law or something and says "I would seat y'all at this table, but she's mean!" They both laugh and she is just adorable.
I look around me and find that I am in an environment I really didn't expect to find in a Bingo Hall. It is super clean, organized, fun, and safe-feeling to this old girl. I think Kathleen is surprised as well. She had locked her purse in the trunk of her car, choosing not to bring it in with her. There is nothing rif-raffy about this place that maybe I expected. It seems like everyone is represented here. I see groups of sorority/fraternity kids, well dressed and diamond studded. I see single 50-ish year old men and women playing alone and happily not looking for a hook up. A young white woman sits behind me, a young black woman sits to her right, and a young hispanic girl sits one row down and to my left (and by "young" I mean they are each probably between 25 and 30 years old.) An older semi disabled woman comes in just prior to the second session. She is obviously a regular player and is treated like a queen by the staff. The staff, from what I've seen are all very friendly and energetic as they chat and joke with the players as they wander up and down selling pull tabs and extra game cards. They bend over backwards to make sure everyone is having a good time.
Our host explains "the roadmap" which is a list of the games that will be played during all the sessions that evening. He sets us up with electronic Bingo machines for the first session. These machines automatically mark some internal cards per game for you. You just hit a button when the number is called and watch the card populate. The machine keeps track of how close you are to winning with your cards moving up in the order as they get closer to a possible win. Neither of us wins during this session, but it gives us a really visual demonstration of how the games are played. The first session consisted of five games and lasted a little more than an hour.
For the second session, we decide to play the traditional paper card way. Our guy brings us a full pack of sheets for the second session and an ink dauber for each of us. Each sheet contains 12 bingo cards. You play one sheet per game, the color of the sheet corresponding to the color indicated on the road map. The caller announces the game and the wild numbers before he starts pulling balls. The games could be "Double Postage Stamp", "Granny's Quilt" or "3 Lines Hard Way, No Free Space" or a multitude of other games which are named based on the pattern required to win the game. I screwed up my first game just by marking my wild numbers wrong. I thought the caller said "any number with a two" was wild when in fact he said "any number ending in a two" is wild. Ok, Nancylou, pay attention!!!
I thought that Kathleen and I would probably run the risk of getting reprimanded for being too loud, 'cause we do tend to get loud and silly when we are together. But we managed to behave ourselves even with the "6 beers for 6 quarters bucket" of Costa Rican beer we had in front of us. I've known Kathleen for at least 15 years and she said to me "I don't think I've ever seen you drink a beer, Nancy". Well you never saw me play Bingo before either, did you?
We are playing and looking over each other's shoulder to see how our games were going. I'm distracted from time to time looking around at what's going on in the hall and watching in fascination at how some of the other players keep up with multiple "three up" sheets while simultaneously playing machines and buying extra cards for the next game. At one point Kathleen jabs me with her elbow to jolt me out of my people watching to tell me to mark the new number that was up on the monitor.
All in all I found this Bingo thing to not only be fun and friendly, but somehow it was also relaxing, mesmerizing, surprisingly exciting and in no way "as common as a grandma in a Bingo hall!"
Off The Beaten Path
- Picture me driving around Austin in a red 1966 Chevy Impala convertible with the top down, because I've actually done that several times in the last few weeks.
- My son is not interested in the the mainstream Prom, so he and his girlfriend and several others dressed up and had an evening picnic in the park.
- I have a new acquaintance...a sweet and groovy single mom who has a pet prairie dog named Thomas.
- On my way to Lake Charles the other day, I was so happy to be on the other side of beautiful Beaumont until traffic slowed to a snail's pace because there was a bass boat in the middle of the freeway. Just a boat, no trailer, nobody parked on the side of the road grieving over their lost big boy toy. Just a busted up boat blocking my lane.
- Anna and I got home late yesterday and she was completely unpacked by dark. This morning I made migas. We are drinking coffee and watching the ultimate chick flick "How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days" She spills her coffee like she does every morning and I just roll my eyes at her. She tells me she only spills her coffee at home, but that she once dropped her TV remote into her cup in her dorm room. She says it still works but that it's kind of sticky.
- Kathleen and I are going to play Bingo on Friday night.
- Daniel gave me a new journal for Mother's Day. A quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson on one of the first pages says "Do not go where the path may lead; go instead where there is no path and leave a trail".
Splendor In The Grass?
I whacked my knuckle on my right ring finger and it's swollen and black and blue and I can't get my ring off. I have a huge bruise below my fingers in the palm of my left hand. Waaa waaa waaa. Boo hoo for me. The source of all my "agony" is this -- I bought a gas powered 25 cc trimmer (aka a "weed eater") God, I'm such a girl...It is insanely dry in the Hill Country and my land is over grown with flammable material and I need to tame my place and get the fuel away from my house before it burns to the ground in a lightening storm. Ok a little drama never hurt anyone!!
I pride myself on following written instructions exceptionally well. The assembly instructions for this trimmer confuse me though since I am replacing the original "spool" with one from another manufacturer. The instructions for replacing the spool talk about trimmers that are "left rotation" and "right rotation" and tell me to choose the nut from the package that threads most easily onto the shaft (after, obviously, I have removed all of the factory made parts from the original trimmer spooler). Exsqueeze me? I love the phrase "A fool with a tool is still a fool".
Ok barring all further details, I get the unit assembled, then disassembled, then put back together with the new spooler and now I have to load the line. For right rotation machines, I need to go counter clockwise, for left rotation machines I need to load clockwise. The owner's manual doesn't tell me which one I have so how do I know unless I have line loaded and can watch it rotate? And here's another problem...Yes, if I see that I have a right rotating machine when I'm looking from the top, when I flip it over so it's upside down to load the line -- which way do I interpret the instructions? Counter clockwise from the bottom is opposite from counter clockwise looking from the top. Shit. It takes about one minute of eatin' weeds to figure out I got it bass ackwards.
Ok. I admit I feel a certain surge of power when I start up the beast with a couple of expert (ok, instruction-led) adjustments to the throttle and some pulls of the cord. Yep definately more powerful than my Black & Decker battery operated baby that I killed. That little girl would have been no match for all this tall dry grass and brush that I need to deal with this year.
I do four or five twenty minute sessions. When I come inside to get a drink of water, I can't hold the glass because my hands and forearms are shaking. I am happy I have some of those Ozarka sport water bottles to suck water from. I'm hot, I'm sweaty, I'm itchy, I'm frustrated, I have so much more to do, I have grass in my panties and yet I HAVE THE POWER!!
Day Two begins with me not even remembering how to get the beast started again. I'm up early because of the heat. After multiple attempts, I reread the instructions and finally get it cranking. I do three or four more sessions by 1:00 p.m. It hits a record high for the day at 95 degrees, today, May 1, 2011. When I'm completely and utterly whipped, I take a shower and come out to sit and cool off and find that a cold front has come through and dropped the temp about 25 degrees or more. It's cool and dry and breezy all the dry grass I chopped down is blowing down my hill.
I pride myself on following written instructions exceptionally well. The assembly instructions for this trimmer confuse me though since I am replacing the original "spool" with one from another manufacturer. The instructions for replacing the spool talk about trimmers that are "left rotation" and "right rotation" and tell me to choose the nut from the package that threads most easily onto the shaft (after, obviously, I have removed all of the factory made parts from the original trimmer spooler). Exsqueeze me? I love the phrase "A fool with a tool is still a fool".
Ok barring all further details, I get the unit assembled, then disassembled, then put back together with the new spooler and now I have to load the line. For right rotation machines, I need to go counter clockwise, for left rotation machines I need to load clockwise. The owner's manual doesn't tell me which one I have so how do I know unless I have line loaded and can watch it rotate? And here's another problem...Yes, if I see that I have a right rotating machine when I'm looking from the top, when I flip it over so it's upside down to load the line -- which way do I interpret the instructions? Counter clockwise from the bottom is opposite from counter clockwise looking from the top. Shit. It takes about one minute of eatin' weeds to figure out I got it bass ackwards.
Ok. I admit I feel a certain surge of power when I start up the beast with a couple of expert (ok, instruction-led) adjustments to the throttle and some pulls of the cord. Yep definately more powerful than my Black & Decker battery operated baby that I killed. That little girl would have been no match for all this tall dry grass and brush that I need to deal with this year.
I do four or five twenty minute sessions. When I come inside to get a drink of water, I can't hold the glass because my hands and forearms are shaking. I am happy I have some of those Ozarka sport water bottles to suck water from. I'm hot, I'm sweaty, I'm itchy, I'm frustrated, I have so much more to do, I have grass in my panties and yet I HAVE THE POWER!!
Day Two begins with me not even remembering how to get the beast started again. I'm up early because of the heat. After multiple attempts, I reread the instructions and finally get it cranking. I do three or four more sessions by 1:00 p.m. It hits a record high for the day at 95 degrees, today, May 1, 2011. When I'm completely and utterly whipped, I take a shower and come out to sit and cool off and find that a cold front has come through and dropped the temp about 25 degrees or more. It's cool and dry and breezy all the dry grass I chopped down is blowing down my hill.
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