Texan Travels...to the East Coast

Yes, the travels have begun. But first things first: congratulations to Marvin and Shanthi, who got married on August 12, 2007!Marvin is a former co-worker of mine and the wedding was a great reason to go back to Maryland for a little fun after leaving a few weeks before. You know, one last chance to say hello and goodbye. I stayed with Shelley and Don, two people who have more talent than you can shake a stick at:

And Mark and Jean: (No, Mark, I have not gone to the Big Texan Steak Ranch yet!)

Chandler, my arch-nemesis from down the hall: (Ha! I win! I'm back in Texas!)Daryl and Johannie, who came all the way from England for the wedding:And lots of other people...

I had flown out of Dallas (which meant driving down from Amarillo, about five and half hours) so that my mom and I could go to a concert last Tuesday night. On Wednesday morning, we went car shopping, but didn't find anything of serious interest:

Yes, I realize they're wrecked. This is how we do it in my family! :)

And if you're ever south of Clarendon, Texas, watch out for cows in the road - we came upon a Charolais-cross steer who was rather intent on seeing what was on the other side of the road. But they do have a really neat rest stop out that way:

And the rest stop has free wi-fi, courtesy of the Texas Department of Transportation:Yep, my tax dollars at work. :) So that's my little adventure on the East Coast and in Dallas. Next stop: Albuquerque and Santa Fe!

Bye, bye baby...

Before I left Maryland, I had to take care of one last important task: selling my 1929 Steinert baby grand piano. There were a number of reasons I chose to do this - and while some people might say "I could never get rid of mine!" so far, I have no regrets.

But let's take a little walk down memory lane. I never thought I'd own a baby grand. New ones are prohibitively expensive. And old ones often come with their own set of problems. After I bought the piano, it wasn't long before I had thoughts of refinishing it. This may be sacrelidge to some, but I decided to forge ahead. Beneath the dark (almost black) crackled stain was a beautiful mahogany. So the old finish came off:

Eventually, the piano looked like this:

And I had almost 7 years of living the dream, baby! Yes, and when I moved to Maryland there was me, my piano, and all my other stuff in a 750 sq. foot apartment. This was not a dream for the "needs to have copious amounts of open space" or "wants more room for potted plants" kind of a person.

Like I said, I decided to sell it for various reasons. And maybe someday I'll buy a nice little upright. In the meantime, though, my fingers can still feel those ivory keys...

Yankee Doodle, Don't Call Me That!

Someone called me a Yankee this week.

For the uninitiated, this is NOT a compliment. I'd pulled out my Maryland driver's license to show ID, and that's when it popped out: "Oh, you're a Yankee!" Half-jest, half-accusation. It's a good thing I was born in Texas! Still, it stung a little. I mean, I'm the person who maintained a "Texas corner" in my office:
There was a Texas flag, Texas bumper sticker, cast iron Texas hot plate, a picture of sunrise over the Palo Duro Canyon, and even a picture of a restaurant in London called the Texas Embassy, among other things. I was an ambassador of all things Texan during my exile on the east coast....


Anyhoo, I got over the Yankee bit. But I thought I'd share a few things that make me smile in Texas:


1. Southern gentlemen: Now Texas men may be a bit different than "deep South" men. But I still love having doors held open or being called "ma'am" by the tattooed guy at the gas station. I've seen 4 year-olds being instructed in this art by their fathers, and the roots run deep. The other night, I went to a free classical guitar concert at the studios of the local public radio station. The room was packed - more people came than they were expecting - and there were still people standing out in the hall. I happened to be sitting near the sound engineer. Everything about this guy screamed "musician" - the clothes, the highlighted hair hanging in his face. But I also overheard him saying to a co-worker "In a situation like this, I was raised that the men should give their chairs to the women and stand at the back of the room..."



2. Small-town charm: Last night, the neighbors a few doors down were stopping at everyone's house, handing out boxes of fresh produce from their garden - and not just cast-off zucchini! I love waving to people as I'm taking a walk. I even love the local news, where you get to see the brand-new broadcasters hone their skills on the Saturday night news. And where else would you see a newly married couple being taken from the church to the reception (about a 4-blocks away) by mule-drawn carriage? Hey, Sunray, Texas can do it up right!





3. Texas hospitality: This may be more about my family's home church in Hereford, Texas. If you ever stop by on a Sabbath, stay for potluck:





That spread happens every Sabbath - and the thing is, 25 people is a crowd for that church, so there's more than enough to go around!



4. Oh, and one little family legend: See the lady in the black jacket, looking toward the camera? That's my Aunt Myrtle Ellen, the oldest of six. This morning, she killed two rattlesnakes. Killed them with a garden hoe. Scarily enough, this is not an abnormal occurrence out on her farm. I can only hope my aim is that good when I'm 88 years old! :)

Picture of the Week

Revenge of the Rabid Squirrels

This is a story about a girl and some squirrels.




It all started on Monday, July 2. I was planning to meet some friends for lunch, but my car was acting funny.

(This was not a good sign - all I wanted to do was to get it to Texas and my dad could give it the stern lecture (and fixing) it needed. And I was a little sensitive to problems, since a few weeks before it had gushed antifreeze all over the parking area in a friend's neighborhood - my heater core gave out. I did NOT need one more thing going wrong!)

Anyway, the car had a hard time starting, which was weird. But I can change a battery in a pinch so I wasn't too worried. And then, as I was heading up the driveway, it acted REALLY weird and I heard a hissing noise, so I paused. And then I smelled gasoline. Figuring this was more than a battery losing juice, I backed up, parked the car and got out, only to find gas leaking on the pavement.

Here's a little disclaimer about Kristine and car problems: if it's something non-mechanical that I can fix, I'll take care of it without tears. Otherwise, it makes me cry.

So I called Dad, who does long-distance diagnostics, and he said "fuel line." Not something I could fix myself, so I called the mechanic. He's a really nice guy and he stopped by my house that night on his way home. You know, it's never a good sign when the mechanic says "Whoa! How in the world did THAT happen!" The problem? A hole in the fuel line. The cause? Well, he'd only seen it like that twice before, and both times some type of vermin had chewed the hole.

Enter the squirrels, little furry harbingers of doom.


Above: two of the suspects, eating berries where my car would normally be parked.

So the car was towed and fixed. And I parked up in front of the house, hoping squirrels were not the bloodhounds of the rodent world, tracking it down for another bite. But everyone agreed this was a freak incident - surely they learned they learned their lesson after tasting the gas, surely they wouldn't do it again. Unfortunately, I didn't learn my lesson. About a week later, I came home late one night. And I thought "What are the odds? I'll park in my normal spot." Apparently, the odds were pretty good! Because they chewed another hole in the fuel line.

This time, Joshua rescued the car, spending a few hours replacing the fuel line again. (Thanks, Joshua!) I wanted to spend a little time teaching the squirrels a thing or two, but I did manage to refrain from any violence.

And so this is how the story ends: I spent my last few weeks in Maryland having fun with friends, figuring out how to get my piano sold, getting my car fixed more than once, and thinking bad thoughts about the neighborhood squirrels.

Home Again, Home Again, Lickety Split

Ah, Texas. I know some of you are probably rolling your eyes right about now, but it's home to me. I left Maryland about 8:15am on Thursday, July 19 and headed for the wide-open west. Drove about 850 miles the first day and stayed on the west side of St. Louis that night. On Friday, I had about 750 miles to go before arriving home in Amarillo.

Heading from Oklahoma into my personal promised land, Texas:

My poor car has been having some significant problems in the last few months, so I feel really blessed to have made it in one piece! Well, there was one little thing that went wrong. Somewhere between Tulsa, OK and Amarillo, the power door locks decided to quit working. But I didn't need to get out of the car anyway, right? But let's take a moment to celebrate a little milestone: 130,000 miles!

PS – Strangest sight on the road: someone in Frostburg, Maryland is building a replica of Noah's ark. Hmm…

Independence Day, Baltimore Edition

Had a great time this year on the 4th of July! Went up to Baltimore, where a gathering of 20 or 25 people was taking place at a friend's apartment complex. Some of the guys did a great job getting the fire going and grilling vegeburgers, hotdogs and veggie kabobs:

And then, in the pouring rain, we set out to find a place to watch the fireworks in downtown Baltimore. (Actually, we were glad to be up there, since the fireworks down in D.C. had been canceled due to a tornado warning.) Because of the rain, some people had decided to leave and we found a prime spot on a hill. And even though I was soaked, it was great!