Oh, the things I babble on and on about...

Oh, the things I babble on and on about...
I noticed something during my time in Virginia: With the exception of pickup trucks, the most popular type of motor vehicle you see on the roads here in Texas is a SUV.
In Virginia, everyone drives a Mini-van.
I think that some things in life are totally ironic. I really don’t care for SUVs. I think that if you don’t do a lot of off road camping with your family, then you may just be a follower and not a leader. You want to be like the rest of the crowd, so to speak. Well, the other day, I saw an SUV that I thought was absolutely gorgeous. My mouth hung open. I stared and followed it until it turned off the road. It was black, shiny and beautiful. All it said was “Cayenne” on the back of it.
I wanted one of those. I wanted one of them so much that I even told myself that I wanted one. I even said it out loud. So when I got home, I Googled the word “Cayenne”
Sigh. You could actually see my dream go *POOF* as it floated away.

Even stranger yet, I see more men wearing cowboy hats in NM than I do here. You’d think this is Texas, this is cowboy hat country…right? Not really. I don’t know why.
While I was driving down a very rural country road, I saw an elderly gentleman who was sitting on a horse by the side of the road. He had on an old, very well broken-in cowboy hat, scuffed up knee high boots with his pant legs tucked in – the kind you wear when you’re riding around mesquite bushes – leather vest and spurs. He appeared to be the real cowboy deal and had been for a very long time, at least 65 years.
He was talking on a cell phone.
Looked really strange.

All most everyone in NM and TX (mostly men, but lots of women) wear cowboy boots. When I was growing up, I only wore boots when I was riding, cleaning the barn or (later) when I went dancing. Hubby wore them for the longest time until I talked him into trying Doc Martens. Now, he very seldom wears boots. He’s grown wiser and has found out about other, more comfortable footwear.

It’s a learned art, I think – knowing what to wear with western boots. You have to know what kind of non-blue denim Wrangler pants to wear (like to funerals, weddings, graduations, etc) with boots.

My daughter’s FIL (Mr. Enigma) has a pair of alligator boots. He says they cost about $5000.00. They are a yellowy-greenish color and are unimaginably ugly. He wears them with a billowy, black shirt (think pirate) and some shiny black slacks that are about 2” too short.
But he’s not from around here and I’d guess that we look pretty stupid to the folks where he’s from, too.

Saturday afternoon, we went to a neighboring town for their monthly event aptly named “First Mondays”. There’s lots of food items, vendors, with bunches of new and used stuff at a pretty good price. It was Hubby’s idea and he went out and rented me a wheelchair so I wouldn’t have to walk too much. How sweet. It was brand new, fresh out of the sack and it only rents for $25.00 a week. That’s a lot cheaper than I imagined.
I found a Christmas present for Hubby’s mom (yay! 2 down and only 3,269 more to go) and a very appropriate “Thank You” present for someone.
I also found a giant dog pillow for Lola for $6.00. It all barely fit in the wheel chair.

First Monday’s is also like the biggest puppy store around. Dog breeders bring there wares and any and every breed can be bought there. They have their own area at one end of the strip.
One of the signs on of one of them said:

CERTIFIED USDA PUPPIES SOLD HERE

I don’t even want to know.

When we left and were putting the chair back in the trunk, we noticed it was scratched in a few places. Hubby freaks and will paint it before I return it. I assume they expect a little wear and tear.
And the reason that I had the chair is (for those that don’t know) because I have a torn meniscus (fancy word for cartilage) in my knee and will be undergoing arthroscopy on the 13th to remove it. I’ve had it for a while; wear a knee support thingy and have had a few steroid shots. Finally my doctor said no more shots - go see the orthopedic surgeon! My first appointment with him was back in October - the day before we were leaving to go to Virginia. After reviewing the MRI and x-rays, he recommended surgery. I pleaded for one more steroid shot so I could hold off until after our visit.
So now that I’ve reached my out of pocket expense amount, at my last follow up visit, I asked him to set it up and I needed to get it done before the end of the year. He’s a fairly busy guy, so I was hoping for after Christmas. At that point, it wasn’t really hurting a whole lot. Then early last week, while returning a shopping basket back to the cart corral at Wal-Mart, (another good deed that I always do) something went ‘kaboom’ in my knee. It took me so long to walk back to the car that I was afraid that The Princess would get out and go looking for me. Now I’m very glad that I’ve got the surgery all scheduled and ready to do.

I guess I have "blogitis". While walking through stores, I now look at all the people and have weird thoughts. I think about things like…I wonder if they have a blog…I bet that’s what Nora would look like…now, there’s a Gail look-alike if I ever saw one…I wonder if Meg tells total strangers about her blog while they’re standing in the check out line…Wow, she looks just like Jeannie…. I’ll bet Nana would love this cow figurine…somebody stop me, please!

I went to a funeral on Saturday morning. It was for the daughter of a woman whom I love and admire. She was a member of the church I used to go to. Her health forced her to move to another town. She has great faith, a wonderful testimony, holds such passion for the Lord and is an inspiration to all. I barely knew her daughter.
Her daughter, Mary K. appeared to have nothing in common with her mom. She always appeared surly, gloomy and dour. (Good words, huh?)
Out of respect and love for her mom, Hubby and I went to the funeral and it was held in the church we used to attend. This church, we believe, purposely chose to ‘lose’ us as members. We talked with, and were hugged by the Pastor and Head Deacon of this church, as if we were the best of friends. These two men were the reason the church ‘lost’ us.
Many other church members were present, and they all told us how much they missed us, would we be coming back, etc. But I know deep down inside, they were dying to know why we left, but too embarrassed to ask.
Ok, back to this lady, Mary K. She was 64 and for some unknown reason, for the last few months had been losing the ability to walk. She had become house-bound and spent most of her time in bed. The official cause of death was a stroke.

The Head Deacon told this story during his portion of the eulogy:

One night last week, he and another deacon had gone to Mary K.’s house to deliver some food to her and her husband. Her husband, (being a normal guy) told them to “go on back to the bedroom and say Hi to Mary K. She’d love to see you”.
So Head Deacon opens up her bedroom door without knocking. When he entered the bedroom, he found Mary K sitting on the port-a-potty in her nightgown.
“But,” Head Deacon said, “I didn’t let that bother me one little bit, I just went right over to her and gave her a big old bear hug.”

I think I would have had a stroke, too.


Well, I see by the heaviness of my eyelids, it’s time for my usual Sunday afternoon ritual. Yep, that’s right. Nap time.

But before I lay down, here’s a disclaimer:
If you own a SUV, wear boots with the wrong pants, wear pants are too short, hold a different opinion of boots and/or cowboy hats, don’t mind being hugged by a man while you’re on a toilet, don’t hug scantily dressed women while they are on a toilet
AND
I don’t know you…then don’t get offended because it’s not always about you.