Dusting Through the Years

Every once in awhile I get a little overwhelmed with life and wish for someone to clean my house.  But this morning as I was dusting I was reminded of a blessing. 

 

As I dusted Bob's guitar case as I have for 30 years, it just hit me that I've dusted that guitar case for 30 years!  Amazing!  But as I realized that, I was thankful that I have a husband who is so talented and has blessed us with his music.  Music that's been handed down through the generations.  He taught himself to play but was influenced greatly by his Uncle Tommy and others in his mother's ultra and multi musically talented family.  Bob was also influenced by the great work of Bob Wills and The Texas Playboys and James Taylor, two of his favorites.

 

As I dusted the bookshelves in Kaylee's room I'm reminded of the blessing that she is.  I've replaced a lot of her things with mine but have left remnants of who she is as she grew up.  There are books that were special to her and so they are to me.  There's a shelf dedicated to some of her artwork and crafts over the years.  And there's a shelf that is full of trinkets that represent Kaylee's special relationship with her Nan.  

 

Then I looked in Bobby's room........and that's as far as I got.  He and Jennifer got married a month ago and he hasn't completely moved out yet.  Which is okay.  I know that eventually his remaining possessions will be gone and Bob and I are already making plans for the space.  But I'm happy to make the transition gradually.  And when I do get in there to clean and dust, there'll be blessings.  Right now there are just too many "blessings" to dust.  

 

I honestly have never considered dusting much at all other than a dreaded chore.  But it was pretty fun today to realize that even dusting has its advantages.    

 

      

 

 

What Kaylee Said!

I know I'm partial but if you haven't read my daughter, Kaylee's, blog, you're missing a treat.  She is so funny and clever with words.  Recently she posted about Bobby and Jennifer's wedding and it was so great that I'll just refer you to her blog.  

 

Enjoy!

 

 http://myownwhitehouse.blogspot.com/ 

Real Estate and Horses

It's been almost a year now.  I'm a realtor and I still can't get my mind around that sometimes.  It has been interesting, hard, fun, hard, challenging, and, did I mention, hard?  If I'd known what was ahead this time last year I'd have thrown in the towel early in the game.  Truly!  But I'm so glad I didn't.....I think.  The jury is still out, actually, but I can at least keep my head above water now so I'm willing to give it a little more time.

 

I have had many interesting and challenging experiences but just last week was definitely one for the blog.  And it happened in Collinsville.  At my listing in the country.  It's a small home on 11 acres and it's been on the market for about a month so I decided to host an Open House.  I knew it was a risk since it was a country home and in Collinsville, to boot, but I'd tried lots of other marketing strategies so I felt like I needed to at least give it a try. 

 

And it was pretty much a bust.  Nobody showed.  But I found a really cute book in the house about the history of Texas so there's that little plus.....yawn! 

 

Soooo, after two sleepy hours I was making my way out the door and noticed the four horses sauntering up from the pasture and out the open gate to the yard.  I got a little nervous because I knew the front gate to the property was open and I was afraid the horses would head that direction.  So far they were staying close to the back of the house so I called the owner to find out what to do.  I know, right about now you're thinking why didn't I just lead the horses back into the pasture and close the gate.......well, as much as I hate to admit it, I'm a city girl and I'm apparently afraid of horses.  And there were four of them so don't be so quick! 

 

The owner said that as long as I closed the front gate behind me as I left, the horses would be fine.  The front gate is about 50 yards away from the house, down a long driveway.  I was parked past the house at the end of the drive so I mosied (I'm in Collinsville after all) out to my car and started to back out but as I looked in my rear view mirror I just about stopped breathing when I saw two of the horses galloping (yes, galloping) down the driveway and out the gate.  Are you kidding me?  I had on sandals and white capris.  What in the heck was I going to do now?  Other than panic, I mean.

 

So I followed them.  In the car.  When I turned onto the road I saw that they'd stopped about 30 yards away so I slowly passed them and turned around, which wasn't easy on the narrow dirt road lined by tall weeds and trees.  But I finally got turned, started back toward the property, and noticed the horses trot back through their gate on their own.  Whew!  I've had a lot of catastrophes and close calls in my real estate career but this one had to certainly be the most unique.

 

And if you want to buy a sweet little house in the country, just call me!   

 

 



The Chicken Won!

If you had told me a couple of years ago that I'd be getting into a fight with a chicken I'd have said......well, I'd have said "Sure, probably.....yeah, I can see myself doing that!"  I mean, that's just kind of how my life goes.  So it happened.  After a year and a couple of months of owning chickens, I did actually have a fight with one of them. 

 

Bob and I were in a hurry to leave last Saturday afternoon and the chickens had been out all day so I wanted them in before we left.  And what I want, I usually get.  Ask Bob.  But don't ask the chickens because they're under the assumption that they are in control, that they rule the roost, so to speak.  

 

I don't usually have to round the girls up in the evening.  They just go into their coop/home to roost when it gets dark and we just have to close the gate.  So they had no clue what was happening this day and weren't having any of it.  I tried chasing, I tried their snack, scratch, and I tried throwing bananas into the coop.  They'd just run in, grab the banana, and scoot back out, and they didn't all do it at the same time.  Grrrr!  

 

Bob finally got hold of the quickest and wiliest of the three so my task now was to corral the other, greedier and slower ones.  The banana piece was sitting on the threshold, I was bent down to keep them from scooting back out, and they were headed in.  Now, just keep in mind that we had been harassing these hens for about twenty minutes so they were very skeptical, to say the least.  So with Bob still holding the Link in the background I made my move to push the other two on in the coop.  But I just wasn't quick enough and the Rock had had enough.  She lunged and spurred me with her talon lickety split.  I quickly backed off and felt a trickle of something wet run down my cheek.  Blood!  Good grief!  That hen had made a two inch long scratch from across the bridge of my nose down to my left cheek.  And I was waving the proverbial white flag of defeat.  They stayed out. 

 

And for the next few days I looked a little like Frankenstein.  I thought about posting a picture but not for very long.  Yes, I can be as vain as the next person.   The scratch is healing up now and I'll have to admit that it made for a pretty good conversation piece.  Silver linings, right?      

My Chain Link Fence

Two of the things I love most about my home are my big back yard and my chain link fence.  Over the twenty plus years we've lived here I have loved getting to know my lovely back door neighbor, Marilyn.  If it weren't for my see-through-fence I wouldn't be able to take part in her beautiful and unique irises as they bloom each Spring and the rest of her flowers through the summer.  She has two bird baths so that's fun to watch and there's even a gate between our yards so I can go over to visit or offer eggs every once in awhile.  

 

On the side of my yard is George and Genia.  Their yard has a little bit of a different look than Marilyn's because they tend to let things grow naturally without lettiing things take over and I love visiting with them also over the fence.  Their children were just grown and gone when we moved in and it's fun to hear about and see their growing families when they come to visit.  Marilyn's and George and Genia's grandkids just love coming up to the fence to watch the chickens' antics or visit with Thursday (Kaylee's dog) when she's here.  

 

On the other side of my yard I've been able to watch a varied and sundry group of folks move in and out as that house has always been a rental.  When we first moved in it was vacant but filled with furniture as if someone lived there.  An elderly lady had moved out and the house sat like that for a couple of years before a niece of the lady finally decided to rent it.  The first tenants turned out to be the Hamby's and when they moved to Iowa a few years later my neighbor, Shari turned into my pen pal, Shari and we've been writing letters (yeah, real ones....on paper.....with a stamp) every week for the last eighteen years.  So when I look across the fence to that yard I see the little storage house in the back yard where Kaylee played for so many hours with the Hamby girls...and it brings a smile.

 

So I love my chain link fence.  As I show homes as part of my new career as a realtor, I see lots of sad looking wood fences that often need repair and are so high you can't even see the neighbors, much less visit with them.  In this day of privacy and stay-to-ourselves lifestyles, I'll take my friendly (and might I add, sturdy) chain link fence any day.    

Donny Osmond and the little old lady

My friend, Deanna, came over for lunch yesterday and this is what we had for dessert.  I probably need to practice my food photography so if you can't tell, it's a brownie with ice cream, topped with chocolate sauce.  And there's a story that goes with the sauce.

When I was a pre-teen I was a Donny Osmond fan.  Okay, I'll admit it--I was a fanatic.  The word was created for people like me.  I'm just sayin'.  It was bad.

Anyway, when I was about twelve, the Osmonds were coming to do a concert in Ft. Worth and I absolutely HAD to go.  My mom said that my friend, Debbie, and I could go but that I had to pay not only for my ticket but my sister's ticket because she would be our chaperone.  Suzy is only two years older than me so I'm not sure how useful she was as a chaperone but at the time I was willing to agree with whatever it took for me to get to that concert. 

I'm not sure how the little job came about but I think my mom saw an ad in the paper.  Anyway, there was this elderly lady that was looking for someone to help her clean and organize her home.  I guess she knew I was twelve because of my short stature, but for whatever reason, the lady agreed to let me "help" her.  

I don't remember a whole lot about the cleaning and organizing part except I have this vision in my mind of a room full of boxes.  But what I remember most (and I think this is mostly what happened) is the lady making homemade chocolate sauce and the two of us sitting at her kitchen table talking, having the most delicious ice cream and sauce I'd ever tasted.  Every time I went she'd serve me that ice cream and that sauce and we'd talk.  So when I became an adult I found a recipe that I'm pretty sure is exactly or very close to what she made.  And it's still so yummy. 

And I got to go to the concert!  The lady (I sure wish I could remember her name....Mrs. Bo or Beau something, it was two words) took me to the bank when my "job" was over to cash a check and hand over the money for the tickets.  I can still remember that ride to the bank and I'm not sure which of us was more excited for me, the lady or me.  She even reminisced about the Rudy Vallee concert she went to as a young girl.  

And the concert was, of course, perfect.  I told myself I wouldn't be one of those girls that went crazy, screaming and all, but it took about one song and I was on my feet, screaming with excitement and frenzy.  Oh, the life of a twelve year old......fun memory for sure!



People

I love my little second job, driving public transportation for SPAN.  It gives me an opportunity to take a break from the all consuming new life of real estate.

 

Driving for me is very relaxing and I get to meet so many different kinds of people.  And SPAN gives me the opportunity to help people who are older, mentally handicapped, or ill have a little freedom in their lives.

 

And I meet some very interesting ones.  Just this week I picked up a 30ish year old young mentally handicapped man who is apparently a savant.....about NASCAR, of all things.  For the duration of our drive, about 20 minutes, he spoke very intelligently about statistics, names, and pretty much all things racing and exotic cars. I don't think I've ever met a savant before so it was quite interesting and really amazing.  Fun!

 

Another day this last week I picked another mentally handicapped young man who truly has to be the most pleasant person I've ever been around.  From the time he stepped on the bus till he got off he was smiling, conversing happily with the couple of older people that were onboard at the time.  And when he smiled, his whole face lit up and his eyes squinted and became little smiles too.  I mean I've been around happy people before but this guy just seemed different.  The closest I can come to describing him might just be Santa.  I take these happy little events as real blessings.  

 

There's this older Japanese man I pick up periodically and he was about seven during WWII.  He lived in California at the time and he remembers that his family was given the option of moving to Nevada so that's what they did instead of being relocated to an internment camp.  I didn't know they had a choice but that's what he said.  

 

Then there's the Yankee ladies.  Pardon me if I offend anybody but I can usually tell pretty quickly the first time one of these sweet (or not so much) ladies open their mouths.  Partly because they have accents but partly because of their attitudes which is usually very sure of themselves and they don't care who knows it.  Most of them have moved down south to follow their adult children who've come here for jobs.

 

People!  As my mom used to say, "It takes all kinds!"