Big and Little

This was the second year in a row (and the third time altogether) that Lana and I were able to attend the Texas Miniatures Showcase in Dallas. Despite the heavy workload that I get hit with every May, I hate to miss one of the few opportunities we Texan miniaturists get to mingle with the true artists in the field of miniatures. I worked overtime last week in order to get caught up with the work crush so I could head to Dallas with a clear conscience.

We headed out Friday morning, bound for Big D and the anticipation of three hours that evening to roam two large hotel ballrooms of miniatures displayed by artists who had traveled from all over the country to show us their work.

We took our time along the way, stopping to explore a big antiques mall in Bellmead, just north of Waco. Shortly after we resumed our journey, we began to watch dark blue storm clouds starting to roll in from the west. I had hopes that we would be able to outrun the storm, but it hit us broadside about 40 miles south of Dallas. It was, in the words of Andy Griffith, a real frog-strangler. We slowed to a crawl and debated whether the smarter thing would be to continue on and possibly drive out from under it, or to pull off and take our chances on finding a place to sit it out.

Unfortunately the rain was coming down so hard that we had no idea where we were and we didn't know if the exits would be flooded. We decided that it would be best to continue on, so we followed the example of our fellow travelers, turned on our emergency lights to increase our visibility to others, and kept moving. Slowly. The rain came down in sheets and continued without let up until we had almost reached the Dallas city limits. Thankfully it finally eased up as we joined the Dallas freeway traffic. With the able assistance of the GPS system in Big Red, we located our hotel and got checked in with enough time for a rest before the show began. I, for one, needed it.

We were glad we were staying in the same hotel as the show and there was no need to get back in the car until we were to leave the next day. A little bit of rest and some food and we were ready to shop big for very tiny things.

Oh, the temptation. You see things at a miniatures show that you never see in shops or in catalogs. The vendors are true artists and most are selling one of a kind items only available at shows. Exquisite dolls, beautiful pieces of furniture that cost almost as much as the full-sized equivalent, unbelievable needlework, miniature food that looks good enough to eat, hand thrown pottery smaller than a thimble, flowers and plants and tiny oil paintings were just some of the wonders we saw. Along the corridors were displays of finely crafted roomboxes that almost make you throw up your hands in dispair at your own efforts.

The only flaw in the proceedings is that the older I get, the harder it is to inspect these tiny treasures. After the first hour my back was protesting loudly in response to the continual "stoop to see, stand to move, stoop to see" routine. I was having to whip off my glasses to get a good, clear look at the displays. And I wasn't alone. Dollhouse enthusiasts who frequent these shows are like genealogists. The majority of both groups are middle-aged. It takes some disposable income and getting the kids out of the house to be able to really indulge in both hobbies. There were a lot of us whipping off glasses and groaning as we struggled upright.

The first time I attended the Dallas show, I passed on an item that I really, really wanted because it was really, really expensive. I've long regretted that spurt of willpower and have been looking for that item ever since. Nowadays when I see something that really pulls at me, I am more likely to indulge myself and live with the guilt. After cruising the main room this year, I was beginning to think that I was going to escape that guilt this time around. I even made it most of the way around the second ballroom before I knew I was in trouble.

There was a gentlemen from Spain who was displaying some really fine furniture pieces. My eyes zoomed right into a display of tiny lace-making pillows with tiny wood bobbins. The paper patterns were pinned to the pillows, the pins were just barely visible, the lace was in progress, a few loose wooden bobbins were scattered under the table and each of them had a cat thinking about messing the whole thing up. One of those little pillows would, I knew, look absolutely wonderful sitting in the corner of my knitting store.

They were way, way, way too expensive and I talked myself out of buying one. I went to bed, congratulating myself on being sensible, but feeling a little disappointed. By morning, my willpower had taken a powder. I did not want to regret passing up this opportunity, so I decided to take another look and see if they were as great as I had thought they were the night before. I managed to fight the impulse for another hour, but I finally gave in. It's a little hard to see the incredible detail of the piece in this picture, but let me just tell you that the little porcelain bowl is full of tiny little pins, the wooden basket on the floor is full of incredibly small, turned bobbins and spools, and the lace pillow is perfect in every detail. I refuse to feel guilty about indulging myself, even if I end up having to eat beans and macaroni all month.

We decided to visit the local dollhouse store before we left town and found some additional items we just had to have. It was a little after noon when we turned Big Red for home. The drive south was much less stressful than the trip north. We took in another antique mall on the opposite side of the highway in Bellmead, and got back in time for me to spend a little time in a small bookstore in Georgetown, where I found 3 new local history books to add to my collection.

I got home to a joyful greeting from Boo and Scout, who spent the evening enjoying their rare opportunity to sit in Mommy's lap and curl up beside Mommy in bed, without two dogs fussing at them. The house is way too quiet without Mojo, Coco and Dixie prowling around. I was driving into the parking lot at Collie Cottage on the stroke of the hour they open on Sunday. Now we are unwinding from our respective weekend outings. We are all happy and content.

I really can't wait until the May work madness dies down so I can find the right place for all these new miniatures that came home with me.

And I can't wait until next May when we do it all over again.

LSW

Abundance and Affirmation

You may remember a blog entry from last summer regarding the partial set of stainless flatware that my grandmother Wilcoxen gave me when I was in high school. Although the pattern had long been discontinued, I had decided to try and pick up pieces through EBAY and antique stores to complete the set and use it for my everyday dining. Since then I had acquired enough pieces to complete 10 place settings and I was still monitoring EBAY in hopes of finding matching service pieces and the elusive iced teaspoons.

I had been a little less conscientious of late in running that periodic search, but I remembered to check last week and was amazed to find that someone was offering a complete set of Grypsholm flatware. I jumped into the bidding immediately and kept a close eye on it for several days. When the auction began to draw to a close, I discovered that there was another interested party and in the final hour the bidding war got really hot. Both of us wanted that set of flatware in the worst way. It was in the last minute that I emerged victorious.

Today my package arrived, containing 12 full place settings, PLUS all the service pieces, PLUS 12 of the coveted iced teaspoons. I think I have sufficient now. Grandma would be pleased. I know I am.


I found myself pleased about something else on Saturday. I attended the monthly meeting of the Smithville genealogy society and the topic for the day was Genealogy 101. The speaker was a friend of mine from DAR, which was one of the reasons I was attending, plus you always learn something, even in the basic beginner meetings.

Ella began by asking the 15-20 attendees how long they had been at this thing called genealogy. A good number of them were very new to the hobby. A couple of them had been founding members of the society, which was formed 17 years ago. She herself got started in the early 1970s. She turned to me and asked how long I had been researching and was surprised to hear that I began my ancestor hunt in 1968. I had her beat by several years even though I am about 20 years her junior.

As she made her presentation, I enjoyed the reactions of the new genealogists. They had no idea of the journey in store for them. Census records, deed records, probate records, online databases, military records, Genweb, NARA, and on and on. They were taking notes feverishly. I wasn't. I've been immersed in all these records for 4 decades. With every topic and idea she presented to them, I was fully aware of what they might find when they got there.

I've always considered myself a competent genealogist. There was something about watching that group listening to a woman I consider to be a very good researcher and realizing how thoroughly I knew what she was talking about. It was like a little light bulb going off in my head.
I'm a good researcher. I know what I'm doing. And I'm having fun.

LSW

Bouncing Around Texas

This has been a wild and crazy two weeks with hardly a chance to catch my breath, much less stop for a bit of blogging. April and May are generally a blur, with too many things piling up to do and this year was no exception.

The last Saturday of April saw the Hodge side of the family gathering in Elgin to celebrate Aunt Bill's/Bettye's birthday. Unkie/Son/Grady/Hodge (nobody in this family goes by just one moniker) built a big bonfire in his front yard, we roasted wieners for hot dogs, sang some country songs to brother David's guitar accompaniment and kept each other laughing non-stop. We are a crazy bunch with a common crazy sense of humor. A good time was had by all.

On the breezeway, pre wiener roast

Sunday morning began the annual marathon to prepare a family history newsletter for the big Frankum reunion that falls on the first weekend of May. Every year I have no idea what I'm going to write about and every year I figure may be the year I have to show up empty-handed. Fortunately I had some inspiration at the last minute and I managed to put another one together at the last minute.

That was barely out of the way before the first client files started arriving for May. Every May the law firm is required to mail special notices for the majority of our clients. May generally passes in a blur, as I struggle to keep from being buried alive in work. Just because I work better under pressure (hah!), I also scheduled a couple of days vacation in order to take full advantage of the reunion activities.

So, fully knowing I shouldn't take the time off but determined to do it anyway so I wouldn't miss anything, I began Thursday morning with a trip to Elgin to check Mojo, Coco and Dixie into pet camp. At noon, Cousin Glynda picked me up and we left for the reunion.

If I tell you that the trip from home to the reunion site in West Columbia is about 140 miles, you might wonder why it took us 10 hours each way. The reason is we took the scenic route through Gladewater. What? You didn't know there was a scenic route through Gladewater?

Here is one scene we made a point to see on our way:


I can hear you scratching your heads in bewilderment, but this little house was a very important place to me once upon a time. This was where my grandparents lived when I was a little girl and I spent many Christmases and the better part of one summer here. I played in this yard, I visited the couple who lived next door, I watched the train as it roared by on the tracks that were at the back edge of the property, and I explored the cool, damp storm cellar in the back yard. It was nice to see that the place is still standing.

Our reason for going to West Columbia by way of Gladewater was to pick up my aunt and escort her to the reunion. We spent the first night at her house, where we met her new dog Sunny and made the aforementioned brief tour of Gladewater where we visited all the places where my grandparents and my aunt and uncle had lived. The next morning we headed out bright and early, going south.

By early afternoon we were in Wharton, where we made our annual visit to the City Cemetery. In addition to my Wilcoxen grandparents, my great-grandparents Wilcoxen and great-grandparents Frankum and great-great-grandmother Frankum are buried there. Also most of my grandmother's siblings and their spouses, a great-aunt on my Wilcoxen side and a pile of cousins have their final resting place in this cemetery. After many years of visits, I am finally beginning to remember where all the graves are located and no longer wander aimlessly looking for them

Friday evening was a preliminary get-together of the Frankum clan and usually involves some cut-throat dominoes. This year was no exception. Here is a wad of Frankum cousins, with yours truly about center of the front row.


Saturday, the official reunion began bright and early. There was way more food than you can imagine, lots of story-telling, some good music, a raucous auction and lots and lots of hugs. There were 134 cousins signed in on Saturday, ranging from a newborn to our wonderful 93-year-old Nita B. After a full day of reunion activity, the three of us hopped back in the car and began the trip in reverse, heading north to Gladewater for the final night.

Early the next morning we took some time to enjoy the fruits of my aunt's labors in her garden. She has quite a green thumb and a real knack for decorative gardening, not to mention a collection of iris that puts my purloined posies in the shade. (She laughed when I told her about by recent trip to a remote cemetery to acquire some iris bulbs. She said my grandmother would definitely approve.)

The patio area just outside the garden room.

My aunt digging up a tree sprout to send home with us.

The morning of the fourth day, we made our 4th and final leg of the trip home. We arrived home with 1,000 miles under our belts, a cargo area full of plants and a growing awareness that we had eaten way too much.

Arriving home, I jumped into my own car and went to get the dogs. As much as I enjoyed the long weekend, the best part was seeing their little faces light up when they came through the door and saw Mommy.

Not so happy was Dixie when I picked her up the next morning. Dixie had spent the weekend with the vet, getting microchipped and having her matted fur issues addressed with a close hair cut. I had impulsively agreed to a "lion cut" because a co-worker had recently had a cat at the office who had the same cut and I thought it was cute. On Dixie it was not so cute and she was one unhappy cat about the whole thing.

The other cats have followed her around all week, hissing. I thought she would appreciate getting cooler for the summer, only the weather turned cooler and now she seems to be chilled. I keep finding her asleep under lamps and she curls up between me and the arm of the couch whenever she can. I've promised her we won't be trying this again and keep assuring her that her bad hair cut will grow out. Eventually. It would really help if the other two cats would quit calling her names.

Now it is back to the May mailings and my desk is loaded down with files. Life promises to continue to be a blur for a couple more weeks.

LSW

It's a Start

The last couple of weeks were a blur as I feverishly worked on getting the annual Frankum reunion newsletter completed. I've been fighting some deadline or another for the last month or so and this was the last of them for awhile. It was with relief that I finished the newsletter on Sunday afternoon, several days before I was set to deliver it to the reunion.

That done, I enjoyed a couple of days with nothing hanging over my head needing to be done. May is looming, the worst work month of the year for me, and I was glad to have a couple of days to catch my breath. Not that catching my breath is easy these days. The lush wildflower season has been wonderful, but it has also wrecked havoc with my allergies. I hate to see them fading, but I have this small hope that maybe I'll stop sneezing in another week or two.

I have been observing the small cluster of bluebonnets across the road from the house since they first put on their spring finery. This is the first time I have paid attention to what happens when the bloom begins to fade and the first time I have had the chance to watch the process up close instead of speeding past them on the highway.

The blooms are almost gone, but in their place are the seed pods. I am hoping I'm around when they burst and scatter their seeds for next year's crop. I've heard they make a noticeable popping sound when it happens and I think we are very, very close.


Yesterday evening when I got home from work, I decided to mow the yard/dandelion crop before I collapsed on the couch. I was zipping around the yard on the riding mower, carefully avoiding my few winecups, when I got a big surprise. There in the middle of the yard was a solitary bluebonnet plant and it was still in bloom.

I've tried many times to plant bluebonnet seeds and get a start of them in my yard and have had no luck at all. I've come to the conclusion that you have to let Nature take its course and I was delighted to find this Lone Bluebonnet waving in the breeze. I carefully mowed around it and hope that it will bear some strong seeds. Maybe next year there will be two or three more and in a few years I will have that stand of bluebonnets in my yard that I have always longed for.

One step at a time. It's my motto these days.

LSW

Wending My Way

Today was DAR meeting day and instead of our usual speaker appearing to us in the community room of the First National Bank, we took a field trip. I was looking forward to this event, even though I was not entirely sure what the subject of our excursion was all about.

We met in Serbin, once a thriving little town and now a small community, to visit the Texas Wendish Heritage Museum. The first question everyone had on their mind was, "What is a Wend?" It turns out that there is not an easy answer to that question. The Wends were a group with Slavic origins who came to Texas from Lusatia, an area that is now part of Germany and that borders Poland on the northern part and Czechslovakia on the southern part. They were not German, nor Polish, nor Czechslovakian, but their own unique group with their own unique language. In the 1850s, a group emmigrated to Texas, seeking to escape pressure that was being applied by the Prussians to speak German rather than their own unique Wendish language and to give up their "pure" Lutheran religious practices in favor of the Evangelical Reform Lutheran church.

Arriving in Texas in 1854, they purchased a league of land in Lee County, subdivided it into farms, setting aside a portion where the town of Serbin was established. They joined the Missouri Synod Lutheran Church and built the St. Paul's Lutheran Church which is currently being restored and is one of the "painted churches" in Texas. Most painted churches are Catholic, so this church is another unique aspect to Wendish history.

The heritage museum complex consists of several buildings. We met in a building that had once been a school run by the church. When it was decided to build a new school, the building was moved down the street and joined the heritage center complex. The building is also the place where a group of women meet weekly and make noodles, which are extremely popular with local folks in the know. There were ribbons and trophys and other awards on display to give evidence to their skill in noodle making. My attention was caught by a picture on the wall entitled "Oodles of Noodles". The walls were lined with plastic bins holding bags of noodles, so "Oodles of Noodles" was a very appropriate sentiment.

The buildings of the complex are connected by covered walkways or by stone paths and as we headed to the museum after our meeting, we were treated with the sight of bushes of antique roses, lush iris beds and an assortment of Texas wildflowers.

Arriving at the museum proper, we were greeted by a friendly docent who gave us an overview of the Wends' history before we toured the exhibits. The displays were fascinating. I especially enjoyed the photos and stories relating to the Wendish wedding traditions.

Across another walkway was a building that houses items that have been donated by Wendish families to document the way of life of those early emigrants. I love early Texas antiques and was fascinated by the tools and everyday items on display. I was particularly taken with a gorgeous golden oak pump organ. If there had been any way to tuck it under my jacket and hightail it, I would have been tempted.

Down a stone path were two log cabins and I was reminded of the log cabin that stands in the background of a photo taken in Red Rock where my great-grandparents Frankum and great-great-grandfather Lentz are standing in its front yard about 1900. As I looked inside, I tried to imagine how one managed to raise a family in such stark conditions.

After we toured the heritage complex, we returned to the old school room to eat our picnic lunches and we chatted about ancestors and hobbies and enjoyed an hour of getting to know each other.

On the way back to the highway, I drove down to St. Paul's Lutheran Church to take a look at the restoration project. The docent had told us the church had suffered foundation problems as a result of an ill-conceived drainage system and will eventually take more than $1 million to return to its former glory.

Even in its current state of construction disarray, you can see the fine bones of its foundation. It is going to be a beautiful building again someday. (Notice the painted designs on the ceiling.)

It was a thoroughly enjoyable morning and I expressed my opinion to our regent, who seemed almost surprised at my enthusiasm. It was her idea that we make this field trip and she has taken some grief and criticism since she took the position of regent. I'm not at all sure about all the political undertones to the unsettled waters and I plan to stay out of it. However, today she made one of her members happy by introducing her to a museum that I wish I had discovered a long time ago. Judging by the friendly chatter during our lunch, I think there were other folks in attendance today who enjoyed themselves as much as I did.

Last, but not least, I discovered in the museum gift shop a set of Lee County cemetery books that I have long wished I had in my own library. And now I do. This gal departed for home completely satisfied with the time spent in little Serbin.

LSW

Profiles High and Low

We had company this week in the person of a Yorkshire Terrier named Clyde. He boarded with us while his folks were out of town. This was the second time he had camped with us and he and Mojo and Coco seemed to remember each other and, for the most part, got along fine. There was a little bit of jockeying for top dog position, but Mojo let him know pretty quickly that visitors had better toe the line. Even so, Mojo was remarkably tolerant with regard to having another male in the house and even allowed Clyde some daily time in Mommy's lap for cuddles and reassurance that his folks would be back before long.

Clyde was much calmer on this visit, but I still hesitated to go off to the office and leave him unsupervised, so I opted to work the three days of his stay from home. All three of the dogs snored on their respective beds spotted around my desk and we enjoyed periodic walks in the perfect spring weather when Mommy needed a break to clear her head. It sure does make for less stressful days when I can sleep a little later, avoid the long commute and work without interruption from phones and traffic in the hall. We all enjoyed the break in routine.

(Be that as it may, once Clyde departed for home, my two collapsed and have slept solidly for the better part of the last 24 hours and I hear Clyde did much the same. The cats were overjoyed to get their house back. Clyde hates cats and they were sequestered to either the guest bedroom or the garage for the duration of his stay.)

As opposed to the low profile I kept with the office this week, my home profile is beginning to rise. On Friday I attended the monthly meeting of the local chapter of the Daughters of the Republic of Texas and turned in my application for membership. I've since heard from the registrar that my papers are in order and she is preparing to mail it on to headquarters. This is only the third meeting I've attended and many of the ladies are already beginning to call me by name without having to stop and think about it, and the registrar has publicly called attention to some research I shared with her about a family connection we share. Not a bad way to begin to get recognized as a qualified family historian,

Later that afternoon I went to the members' preview of the regular Spring book sale held at the Bastrop Public Library. One of the volunteers on duty was a fellow member of the DAR. This morning I went to the monthly meeting of the Smithville Genealogical Society for an excellent presentation by a gentleman from the General Land Office. I am also beginning to be recognized by members of this group and the regent of the DAR, who arrived late, made her way to a seat next to me. I'm beginning to feel like I'm gaining acceptance into the various local historical groups.

After the meeting, I spent a few minutes checking out one of my favorite antique shops in downtown Smithville and found a couple of history books that were too cheaply priced to turn down and that led to a conversation with the shop owner's husband who also collects local history books. We compared notes on lucky finds, chatted about mutual acquaintances and he took my name and number to have on hand should a particular book I'm seeking become available.

I made a brief stop at the Alum Creek Cemetery on the way home to take some pictures of a gorgeous patch of phlox.

After such a satisfying start to the weekend, I improved on the day by settling down with my stack of newly acquired books, indulging in a brief nap with the dogs, catching up on missed episodes of "The Mentalist" and pondering what course to take for the reunion newsletter due next month.

Rest, relaxation, and a heavy dose of history. My kind of weekend.

LSW

Spring Vacation 2010, Day 7

All good things must come to an end and the last day of vacation fell on the eve of my birthday. It also just happened to be Easter Sunday. In honor of my impending birthday, little brother and sister-in-law made reservations at the Hyatt Lost Pines for their elaborate Easter brunch. From the highway entrance, you drive a good ways before reaching the hotel and on both sides of the road were the thickest and brightest bluebonnets and Indian paintbrushes I've seen yet this season. I've always felt like bluebonnets and paintbrushes are my personal birthday presents from Mother Nature and she is outdoing herself this year.


The Hyatt knows how to put on an elaborate brunch. There was food to suit every palate, from salads to grilled vegetables to seafood to prime rib to omelets to French toast. We started with a bottle of champagne and proceeded to sample as many foods as we could hold. It was all fantastic and ended with a dessert bar that was to die for. Since everyone knows that birthday calories don't count, I threw caution to the wind and enjoyed myself thoroughly. We even had a band providing entertainment.

On the way out of the resort, we stopped for more flower pictures and then headed to McDade to check out a new Renaissance Faire that was winding up its first year.


The Sherwood Forest Faire has gotten off to a good start and I hope it will continue to grow and improve in the coming years. It reminded me and David of the early days of the Texas Renaissance Fair before that operation got so big that it lost much of its charm for us. We visited artists (I picked up a coffee mug and David got me a lovely hummingbird made of 5 different kinds of wood), listened to musicians, watched some belly dancers, met an owl and a vulture at the falconry exhibit, and in general just had a great time.

As a last vacation fling, I indulged in a henna tattoo. (It should be with me for a couple of weeks. That's as permanent a commitment I can make in the matter of body art.)

Spring Vacation 2010 was a definite success. Now I have to go back to work and rest up.

LSW

Spring Vacation 2010, Days 4 thru 6

Once we got home from our long day of antiquing, we staggered into the house and collapsed. I had made spaghetti sauce the night before, when I still had some steam left in me, and while I got ready to assemble the spaghetti, Suzanne made a salad. I had a box of frozen cheeze toast and got that ready to pop in the oven.

I had remembered to get everything we needed. Except the spaghetti.

I usually have 4 or 5 boxes of spaghetti on hand and all I could find was a piece of a box. We held a conference and decided it was not going to be enough and we would have to make a dash to the store. We also had a meeting of the minds and decided as long as we were going to be out, we might as well pick up a bottle of wine to go with our spaghetti. Lana had been telling us about a wine she had discovered that she said would be great with spaghetti. Before you could say "Gewurztraminer" (the category of wine she recommended), the three of us piled back into the car and headed off for a quick stop at HEB for spaghetti and then a not so quick stop at Spec's for wine.

To make a long story short, after much deliberation and the assistance of a knowledgeable clerk, we each bought a bottle of wine and made a bee-line for home. It wasn't long before we were sitting down to our spaghetti, salad, toast and wine. We were soon replete with food and still working on the wine.

There is nothing quite as enjoyable as the rare opportunity to gather a group of long-time girl friends in a quiet retreat for a nice long chat about life. We were happily tired from our long rambling day, our stomachs were content from good food, our mood was mellowed by the good wine and we sat and talked long into the night. Conversation was followed by a good night's sleep.

Friday morning we were finding it hard to bring our visit to a close and we decided to have one last antique ramble before we said our goodbyes. We piled in our respective cars and formed a caravan to the Elgin Antique Mall. We spent another couple of hours exploring there and both Lana and I indulged in one more purchase each. She acquired another child's miniature in the Jewel Tea china pattern and I found a child's miniature pottery crock in a style that complements my collection of McDade pottery. We finally parted company about noon and went our separate ways, after declaring our intentions of regrouping for another go at the Round Top Fair next year.

When I got back home, I could feel the fatigue beginning to set in, so after walking the dogs, they and I all piled back into bed and spent the remainder of the day reading, watching tv and periodically dozing off.

On Saturday, I spent the majority of the day trying to convince myself I should get up and do something productive and failing miserably. Aside from a brief spurt of energy late in the day when I mowed the yard, I decided it would be a good idea to rest up.

Because I had a date for a last day of fun and frivolity on Sunday.

LSW

Spring Vacation 2010, Day 4

The second day of our Round Top adventure dawned with aching muscles and stiffness in our joints, but determination of spirit. Suzanne arrived to join the fun and we voted to take a vehicle with more hauling space - just in case. Plus, it was a good excuse to ride in Lana's new red Ford Edge. (Nice car.)

On antiquing day two we decided to start with the official Round Top show. Many years ago you had to bounce to four different sites to take full advantage of the entrance fee, but thanks to management schisms and new construction, the traditional show takes place primarily in one location. We headed to the Big Red Barn in our brand new Big Red Taxi.

The vendors who take part in the Round Top fair have completely different offerings from what we had seen at Cole's Antique Barn the day before. If I had to sum up the differences in as few words as possible, I guess it would be early 20th century vs. Colonial American and European. The vendors at Cole's have primarily the former while the vendors at the Big Red Barn have primarily the latter. It's fun to see this alternative antique perspective, especially if you are a fan of Antiques Roadshow, but it was pretty clear from the beginning that my checkbook was safe here. After the previous day, that was a nice feeling.

A couple of hours later we headed to the Folk Art Fair. Lana and I had made a very quick stop there on the way home the previous day, 15 minutes before they were closing, and had quickly decided it warranted a closer look. She had purses calling her and I had embroidered Mexican dresses calling me.

Many years ago the embroidered Mexican dress was incredibly popular in Texas and every Texas gal had at least one. This was about the same time that Mother and George were making periodic trips to south Texas and they would cross the border and bring a pile of dresses back home with them. Mother and I both had several and Mother helped keep some of her teacher buddies supplied as well. Gradually they had gone out of style and I had not seen them available anywhere in a long time.

It looks like the embroidered Mexican dress is making a bit of a comeback and one of the vendors at the Folk Art Fair had some of the prettiest ones I've ever seen. After drooling over the available stock, I decided that I would be happier with a blouse than a dress. I tried on a variety of colors, knowing full well that I would most probably bring home a red one. Which I did. And, by the way, the current price is a far cry from the average $10-15 per dress we paid twenty years ago.

I expect that this blouse with a pair of jeans will get a lot of outings this summer.

I believe it may have been at this point that Lana began to cave in to temptation. She had made her initial purchase at the Big Red Barn of some vintage textiles and now she was beginning to find greyhounds.

Lana is heavily involved in greyhound rescue, finding homes for retired racing and breeding greyhounds. She had told me to be sure and keep my eyes open for greyhounds and I had not expected we were going to encounter so many greyhounds in one day. I don't think she did either. There were Staffordshire greyhounds and bronze greyhounds and concrete greyhounds and tapestry greyhounds. There were greyhounds everywhere. She acquired a brass greyhound figurine at our first stop of the day and she wasn't through yet.

We had decided to make our next stop at Marburger Farm, a large gathering of vendors in both tents and permanent buildings who sell a wide variety of antiques. We had been there about an hour when Lana made her big find - a coffee table that consisted of a metal sculpture of three greyhounds holding a glass circular table top. She had the same look on her face that I had had the day before when I spotted the vanity. We had barely completed that transaction before we happened into a booth of vintage evening wear and she snagged a glittery purple outfit.

We were all dragging badly by the time we pulled out of Marburger Farm. We were also getting close to the official closing time for most of the fair locations, but we had about an hour to spare. Suzanne and I have both had considerable luck at the independent La Bahia show, so we decided to spend our last hour there. I was willing, but a little apprehensive. I've found way too many things I've had to have there.

This year was no exception, but at least it was a small find. A gentleman from Kansas was set up in the annex with a great assortment of vintage books. I was relieved that I did not see anything I wanted. However, just as he said he was giving sizeable discounts, I glanced over and saw a book I've been looking for and had not been able to find. I am a long-term fan of a local author, Susan Wittig Albert, and recently met her at a book-signing in Smithville. I have several autographed first editions of her China Bayles mystery series and hard cover copies of most of the series. After meeting Mrs. Albert, I had decided to replace the few volumes that I owned in paperback with hard cover copies and had been successful in locating replacement volumes of all but one, which apparently had had a limited printing in hard cover. There the missing volume sat, and it was autographed to boot. He made good on his offer of a discount, knocking $10 off the asking price and I was able to put that hunt to rest.

By 5 o'clock, when the vendors began to close up shop, we were all groaning as we crawled into our vehicle and headed for home.

Our day was not over yet.

LSW

Spring Vacation 2010, Day 3

The madness that is the annual Round Top Antiques Fair is in progress. Two good gal pals and I decided to use my house as base camp and spend a couple of days in the pursuit of the perfect antique we didn't know we needed until we saw it.

We had a great time.

On the first day it was just Lana and myself on the road. She had never been on the Round Top Antiques junket and had no idea what she was in for. The Round Top Antiques Fair must be experienced to be believed. From the original fair that took place in four venues in and around Round Top, it has grown and grown until it is hard to find a vacant place on the side of the road between Carmine on the north and Warrenton on the south. Pasture after pasture is filled to capacity with tents holding vendors from all over the United States. Several permanent barnlike structures are spotted along the road and hold another vast number of vendors who rent booth spaces. Some of the neighboring towns developed their own antiques shows in the dance halls and VFW halls of their communities.

And it happens twice a year.

My favorite time to go is in April, when the bluebonnets have just begun to hit their stride. If the weather is perfect, as it was the two days we attended this year, it doesn't get any better. (However, I have gone to the fair in driving rain and near-hurricane force winds and the crowds are just as big.) In the beginning the fair started on Wednesday and ran through Saturday. Nowadays some of the vendors are in place and selling as much as a week before. We old-timers know to go early on, because by Friday and Saturday the traffic is so horrendous and the crowds so thick that a platoon of police officers is necessary to direct traffic for pretty much the entire 10-15 mile stretch.

I didn't have anything in particular to look for this year, which is always a bad sign. Those are the years that I find something special. One year it was my oak desk. (In fact, I have purchased 3 oak desks over the years.) One year it was a pair of nightstands. One year it was a darling little footstool. One year it was a sewing stand.

Since I couldn't think of anything in the furniture line I needed, I suggested we go in Big Red the first day. I didn't know that before the day was out we would have the answer to the question, "can a full-sized piece of furniture be transported in a Prius?" The answer is "yes".

We spent five hours in the Cole's Antique Barn that first day. It was a good place to start. We were having a great time poking our way through the place and I had just about talked myself into the purchase of a beautiful little oak rocking chair when I glanced across the aisle and saw it winking at me.

For years I have been looking for an oak vanity that would fit in with my other oak bedroom furniture and had about given up hope that the right piece was out there to be found. But there it was and I fell in love on the spot.

You see, as soon as I saw it, I recognized it was a close cousin of the dresser I have lived with and loved for about 20 years.

I was pretty much convinced it was going home with me before I ever crossed the aisle to take a closer look. The owner knew I was hooked, but he still quoted me a discount that cinched the deal. It wasn't until I had committed to buy the sweet little piece that I found out I was also getting a nice oak chair to go with it.

Thanks to the fact that we were able to remove the mirror and that I could fold down the back seat, it turned out that it could all be fitted into the Prius with about an inch to spare. I am delighted to add the little vanity to the family.

Unfortunately the vanity was not the only thing I found that I just had to have.

For some months I have had my eye on a set of history books in the Round Rock Antique Mall and have managed to repeatedly talk myself out of spending the money. One of the last vendors we visited at Cole's had the same set for sale. And I do mean the same set. When I picked up the book to take a look at the price, I recognized a blemish that told me I was looking at the very same books that had been tempting me in Round Rock. The big difference was that I had never been face to face with the man who rents the space in the mall. He was manning the booth himself at Cole's and he recognized that he had a live one on his hands. We kidded back and forth and he agreed to make a substantial cut in the price he had been asking. I seized the opportunity and now I own the longed for books.

My last indulgence for the day was a set of Tootsie Toy dollhouse furniture. I was having a really good shopping day, while Lana was doing a lot of looking and finding very little to tempt her.

But, things change.

LSW

Spring Vacation 2010, Day 2

Day 2 brought house cleaning and napping to our happy home. The dogs and cats are delighted to have Mom home and not glued to the computer. All the shades and drapes get opened when Mom is home, sun is shining through and creating warm pools on the carpet and all is well in their world.

We have a new fixture in the bedroom we have dubbed Cat Mountain. I am still shifting my belongings around and a good portion of the books have been packed in boxes awaiting the decision on whether I will add standalone bookcases or built ins. I'm trying not to make snap judgments as I pursue this project, so the boxes have been stacked against the wall for some time. I was getting a little tired of looking at them, so I came up with the idea of draping them with a sheet and blanket.

Cat Mountain is located directly next to the cat tower in the corner of the bedroom and the cats immediately adopted the new perch. A well used (by Boo) cushion was relocated to the top of Cat Mountain and Scout has decided that was a fine addition. A small table has been temporarily relocated on the opposite end of Cat Mountain, creating yet another level. There is nothing these cats like better than to be able to traverse a whole wall without having to touch their dainty feet to the floor.

They have barely left Cat Mountain since it came to life two days ago.

Scout grabs a quick bath while Boo and Dixie take naps.

I'm not sure this is any better than the original stack of boxes, but at least the cats are temporarily distracted and leaving me alone.

LSW

Spring Vacation 2010, Day 1

Today's goal was to obtain a marriage record from Caldwell County. I had a poor photocopy of the record that I had obtained from microfilm at the Family History Library in Salt Lake City years ago, but it was blurry and indistinct. I figured it was the best I could hope for, but last week I happened across the information that original marriage records were available through the Caldwell County Genealogical and Historical Society in Luling. I crossed my fingers for something better than I had and scheduled a trip to Luling for Day 1 of vacation.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that the library had expanded the space dedicated to the Historical Society holdings to almost double what they had when I had last visited. I was lucky to happen in when a particularly knowledgeable and helpful volunteer was on duty and we chatted about genealogy in general and Caldwell County families in particular. We had common family connections, although no common bloodlines. I remarked how surprised I was that they had original records there and she told me that when the County Clerk's office had run out of room, they had offered custody of the old records to the society. In short order I had 5 crystal clear marriage records to replace the blurry copies in my files. One of them I needed to complete the proofs for my application for membership in the Daughters of the Republic of Texas, so I was quite pleased.

So long as I was writing a check, I decided to pick up the two volume set of Caldwell County history books as one of my birthday presents to myself. I enjoyed discussing various research avenues with the volunteer and then ran into another patron who was working on a DRT application who gave me some additional information about the application process.

Two big books of history and 5 marriage records - color me content.

One of the tips the volunteer had given me concerned indexes in the District Clerk's office that might solve a hole in my records, so I decided to go home by way of Lockhart. Fifteen minutes scanning indexes in the clerk's office did not solve the missing divorce record, but getting that index checked was worth the trip. By that time I was getting caved-in hungry, so I drove out to the Kreuz Market and indulged in a little bit of barbecue, Lockhart style.

Satisfied with the results of my day's errand, I headed home. Did I forget to mention that the entire round trip drive was studded with fields of brilliant bluebonnets, paintbrushes and phlox? It was mahvelous.

LSW

Now Where Were We?

For two weeks it seemed like my brain shut completely down. I'm mostly blaming allergies for that. With elm pollen and oak pollen and pine pollen floating heavily around me, I became something of a zombie moving slowly and dreamily through life. I hate taking medicine, so I put off doing anything about it with the idea that I could beat the mess with mind over matter. Forget that I have 5 decades behind me to prove that doesn't work. Every year I try to tough it out again. I finally caved and started taking some antihistimine and slowly began to come back to life.

Just in time, too, because I had a date with a group of cousins on my Mobley side of the family that were due to arrive in town for the great cemetery tour. Several years ago I had the pleasure of meeting Cousin Pat and her late husband Al and taking them around to visit the family graves in the area. She was headed back to Texas to meet up with a group of her nieces and nephews who were coming in from all parts of the country for the occasion. She got in touch and asked if I would escort them around and I gladly signed on.

It was quite a day. Our initial group of 10 relatives visited the museum and a couple of the cemeteries on our list, then ate at Maxine's on Main Street. After lunch, the non-genealogists and the younger members of the group split off in favor of shopping and Pat, John, Mimi and I continued on the Mobley history tour. In all we hit 9 cemeteries in 5 hours, explored some back roads where the Mobleys and Wunneburgers owned property in the early 1900s and made a stop in McDade to see the house where our joint great-great-grandparents lived in their last years. Along the way we talked Mobley family history, shared family stories, looked at a lot of photos and in general enjoyed getting to know each other.

Pat and nephew John at our last stop in Red Rock

On the last leg of our tour, I had the great fun of having cousin Pat to myself as we drove from Bastrop to Red Rock. She answered all of my questions without hesitation and I thoroughly enjoyed our visit.

Pat and me at the end of the day

Barely had the great Mobley history tour ended when it was time to get busy with the final preparations for Mother's memorial service. It was held last Sunday at the old refectory building in Bastrop State Park and it turned out to be a perfect setting and a day of perfect weather. We were joined by many old friends, family members and a few surprise guests from Mother's early years. In all, it turned out to be a beautiful service. I think she would have been pleased.

Mother's urn was made by her daughter-in-law, Karen

With the memorial service behind us and the antihistimines finally taking effect, it was time to rest. I had wisely scheduled my usual week of Spring vacation to follow closely behind the memorial service and the first day was yesterday.

Little brother decided yesterday was a good day for a meandering motorcycle ride, and he started off with a stop at our house to help me correct a small problem with my computer so I could continue with my current project of making application for membership in the Daughters of the Republic of Texas. That accomplished, we decided to check out the Green Chai Cafe and both of us were very pleased with their fare. After lunch I talked him into going with me to one of the cemeteries I had visited last week with the intention of liberating a few crowded iris bulbs and giving them a new home at my house.

The cemetery just happened to be across from a green pasture full of budding oak trees and sleek cattle. We spent a few extra minutes trying to coax them toward us for photo ops. Most were unimpressed with the idea and continued on with the business of munching the sweet grass.


But one of the babies was curious enough to let me get close enough to get a few pictures. He just couldn't figure out what in the Sam Hill I was doing.

It was the perfect start to a week that should prove to be restful and entertaining. We had a nice drive out Highway 21 which is lined with pine trees and just beginning to develop patches of Texas spring wildflowers. We got to visit with some beautiful cattle and I brought home a dozen or so iris bulbs that were transplanted in my yard before the day was out.

Tomorrow the kids and I are headed to the vet for a quick checkup and then to Luling to retrieve a record I need for my application. I can't wait to see their reaction when we pull into Luling. I don't think they have ever been exposed to the smell of oil. We may just have to stop and get some barbecue for lunch while we are there.

Later this week two friends are spending a couple of nights with me and we have some activities planned that should provide some entertaining stories for another day. This is a week of some much needed R&R. Ready, set, go!

LSW

High Tech Kitties

Since we have just gone through a urinary infection with Boo cat (he's feeling very much better, thank you), I got the idea of checking out Pet Smart for the current options in cat fountains. Cats prefer fresh, moving water over the boring bowl of water on the floor and will sometimes drink more water if they have a fountain. The vet had warned me that Boo needed to drink more water if I could figure out a way to get him to do so. It would keep things moving, so to speak, and help reduce the build up of crystals in his urinary tract.

I had tried a cheap cat fountain some years back and, while the cats did like it very much, it did not hold up well to the attentions of my heathens of that period. I decided to take my one remaining gift card from Christmas and apply it toward the best cat fountain I could find. That turned out to be the Drinkwell Platinum. I hauled it out of the box this morning and, with intense scrutiny and supervision by the 3 fur balls, got it up and running.

It was met with curious suspicion...

"Me try it? Why don't you try it?"

"Well, it smells like water..."


"And it feels like water...."

"Cool."

In about 15 minutes, all three were drinking from the spout and enjoying their private water source. We'll see how long it takes them to destroy it.

LSW

Piece by Piece

My mother started it. She took a liking to Royal Doulton's Old Country Roses china pattern many years ago and would pick up a piece here and a piece there as we would ramble through antique and junk stores. It was a luxury then - pricey and hard to find.

Then the pattern became more readily available in the United States. David and Karen located a 4-place setting set one year at a garage sale and gave it to Mother for Christmas. Then a Royal Doulton outlet opened up at the outlet mall in San Marcos. I began adding to the set every year at Christmas. It became our set of china. I built up another 2 place settings, added serving pieces and some decorative pieces.

A couple of years ago I caved in and bought a set of the complementary flatware. Then I got the idea of completing a set of glasses from the depression glass period, the first of which we acquired from my grandmother Hodge. I scoured antique stores until I had 8 of the deep red, swirled glasses that look so nice with the china.

Ever since, I have been trying to find the matching pitcher. The odd one would come up on EBAY every so often, but I hesitated to risk having one shipped across the country. I decided I would just keep an eye out in the local area antique malls and hope that one would someday surface.

Today when I met Lana in Elgin for an afternoon of browsing the antique mall there, I told her about the red pitcher I was seeking. I had just visited the Elgin mall the week before, so I knew there was not one to be found there. I had just commented that I would find a picture and forward it to her so she could be on the lookout, too, when I rounded the corner and found myself face to face with the pitcher I had been hunting for so long. And there was a mall-wide sale in progress, so I even got a break on the price. I just knew there had to be something wrong with it, but a careful examination found no chips. It came home to join the collection in the dining room cupboard.

It is always satisfying to fill a vacant place in the puzzle. A small bonus find today can be seen in the upper shelf between the tureen and the bowl. A set of clear glass coasters with a gold edge that I didn't even know I wanted whistled at me as I passed them. They will look just great holding those red, antique glasses.

Lana, too, had some luck today and we left feeling the warm glow of successful antiquing and agreeing that we need more days like today.

LSW

Her's Not Fat

Remember back last June when Dixie came to live with us? Poor little, half-starved baby.

Before

Yesterday all three of the heathen cats spent the day at the vet's, getting their annual checkups and vaccinations and generally racking up a humongous bill for me to settle before they came home.

About 3 o'clock in the afternoon, my favorite of the lady doctors called me to report on the health of the kids and she started with Dixie. The little girl who had such a rough start got a glowing report with one small issue to work on. She's a little too heavy, weighing in at 9 pounds and still 2 months to go before she has her first birthday.

After

No more the tragic waif is she. There is still a minor balance issue (she tends to fall over if she tries to multi-task - like looking up at me while she is walking - kerplop!), but overall she got a clean bill of health and doctor's orders to cut down the food supply. Hmmm. The doctor has never had to deal with a hungry Dixie while trying to get dressed for work in the morning. I am more inclined to adhere to the old adage "her's not fat, her's fluffy". But...

It turns out that all three of the little heathens are a tad overweight. Not obese, just slightly plump for their frames. Scout was 8 pounds and Boo was 13 pounds. The doctor recommends that they also reduce their calorie intake. Pray for me. It is going to be a rough ride.

Surprisingly, Dixie was a little lamb for the doctor, but the other two - Lord, have mercy. My first call from the doctor was for permission to sedate them for their exams. They were having royal hissy fits right and left whenever the techs or doctor tried to work with them. Ka-ching, ka-ching, Mommy gets to pay for happy gas. During that conversation, I mentioned a slight concern I had about Boo and his *ahem* bathroom activities. Ka-ching, ka-ching, M0mmy gets to pay for a urinalysis. It turns out Boo has a urinary infection. Ka-ching, ka-ching, Mommy gets to pay for antibiotics. The girls got a glowing dental report, but Boo needs a good teeth cleaning. That one I postponed temporarily, at least until my income tax return gets back. Maybe it will be enough to cover the next round.

With my history of the horrible, finger-crippling cat bite of a few years ago, when the doctor mentioned giving Boo antibiotics, I pleaded for a liquid version. No way am I going to poke a pill down an irritable cat's throat. She proceeded to tell me to be sure and hold him by the scruff of the neck to render him passive while I give him the drops. {Here, insert maniacal laughter.} Boo's 13 pounds are difficult to render passive, even with that technique. I was ultimately successful giving him last night's dose and the next round is coming up shortly. I hope that he and I can come to a detente on this issue, because the alternative is to take him in for a long-lasting shot at the cost of another $40.

And, if this UTI issue continues, I may have to put him on a special diet which I'm sure means more ka-ching, ka-ching, and it also basically means that all three of them will be on the special diet since feeding them separately doesn't work too well.

Ok, I don't have to put them through college or bail them out of jail when they go joy-riding across someone's lawn, but don't let anybody tell you that being a good and conscientious cat mommy is the economical way to go. Vet bills aside, the first aisle I hit at the grocery store is the pet aisle and by the time I load the cart with cat litter, cat food dry and wet, dog food dry and wet, dog treats and maybe a bag of sunflower seeds for the birds/squirrels, I've already racked up about $50 worth of supplies and so far I have nothing to feed myself.

I am really going to have to start reading the fine print in the mommy contract before I take on another orphan.

LSW

Hoping It's Over

I am sporting a black eye today and I'm telling everybody that mean old Dixie kicked me.

I wish that were what happened.

I am one of the lucky folks who suffer from chalazions, which are like styes but instead of coming to a head on the eyelid, the infection goes deep into the eyelid. You end up with a painful lump that looks horrible and can distort your vision. Sometimes they go away on their own, sometimes they go away with a round of antibiotics and sometimes they have to be surgically excised.

These things have been tormenting me off and on for years. A couple of years ago was the first time I had to go to the eye surgeon to have one removed. It was not a fun experience, so earlier this year when I realized that another one was developing, I was not a happy camper. When I finally couldn't deny it was there, I revisited the eye surgeon and learned that I had not one but two of them in the same eyelid. We tried antibiotics and they didn't work, so somewhere between Halloween and Thanksgiving, I found myself lying back on a gurney while the surgeon went to work.

Let me tell you, when you see someone heading for your eye with a needle, it is really, really hard to lie still. The deadening shot is the worse part, but it's also not so pleasant when they fasten a clamp to your eyelid to hold it open. The actual removal of the infection isn't so bad, because by that time you have your jaws clenched so hard you are finding yourself distracted by the prospect of having to go to the dentist to have your cracked teeth repaired.

So I had congratulated myself on getting past the ordeal and felt absolutely confident that in a couple of weeks it would be a bad memory.

Thanksgiving came and went and Christmas was approaching and one of the lumps was still with me. It took every ounce of fortitude I had to call and make another appointment. She could see me two days before Christmas. Merry Christmas to me.

Surprisingly, she decided it was not at a stage where surgical intervention would do any good, so she decided we would try antibiotics again. I breathed a sigh of relief. But my relief was short-lived.

A month later it became obvious that I still had a problem, so once again I braced myself and headed back Friday for another evaluation and this time the dreaded sentence was handed down. We had to do another excision.

Once again I found myself on the gurney with the needle heading toward my eye. It hurt. She had to not only remove the infection but also remove scar tissue that had built up from the first time under the knife. The process was longer as a result and she warned me that this time there would be bruising and I would look pretty beat up for a few days. I left sporting a huge eye patch.

I decided to swing by Central Market on the way home and reward myself for having endured my ordeal with some of their wonderful tortilla soup for supper. I waltzed into Central Market, walked the entire store picking up various and sundry items and no one so much as batted an eye at my odd appearance. Austin is either full of very courteous folks or Austin is so full of weirdos that no one noticed one more.

I left the patch on until I got home because I remembered from the first time that exposing the wound to air resulted in unbearable stinging. Driving one-eyed is a challenge, but I made it home and finally removed the bandage and realized that I would indeed have a black eye for a day or two. That's when I decided I needed a good story and Dixie volunteered to be the scapegoat.

Today it looks like things are slowly improving and I'm hoping my eye looks more or less normal by Monday. I'm also hoping I don't have to do this again for awhile. I'm due to have some dental work done in a couple of months and the prospect doesn't even bother me. After two rounds of eyelid surgery, getting a cavity filled doesn't sound bad at all.

LSW

I Should Stop Listening

I go to antique stores quite frequently and generally I just look, but sometimes I will be walking by and something yells, "Hey, you! Over here!". I'm going to have to start ducking and running the opposite direction when I hear that call.

Today brother David and sis-in-law Karen and I went on a tour of Bastrop and Lee Counties. We started off by loading up a pickup full of furniture and assorted junk that I had dug out of the closets and garage and dropping it off at the thrift store. The available space in my bedroom almost doubled. All that junk had been accumulating in the far corner for weeks now and it's ALL GONE! Someone else will now have the opportunity to rescue the faux French provincial bedroom furniture that we acquired back in the early 1960s. Lord, bless them. I enjoyed it as long as I could stand. I love looking down in the end of the bedroom and seeing all that lovely space.

After that chore was completed, we went on to Smithville and wandered through all the little antique shops that line Main Street. I visit these stores at least quarterly and seldom find much to tempt me to open my checkbook. But today was one of those times when I kept hearing that tiny little voice from the corner of the store. "Hey! Over here! Yes, you!"

At the first store we visited, I found a first edition of an H. Allen Smith book I didn't have. H. Allen Smith was a humorist who was hot in the 1950s through the early 1970s. Mother was a big fan of his writing and introduced both David and me to his sharp wit. Over the years she built a collection of his books and I added to it on several birthdays and Christmases. There aren't that many of his books that are not to be found on a shelf in my bedroom bookcase, so I was greatly surprised to find one of the missing today. I figured that would be my one find for the day's outing.

Across the street in a store I've never found anything of interest in before, I heard that little voice again. This time it came from a top shelf. I glanced up and there sat a complete 6 volume set of the Golden Book Illustrated Dictionary. You may remember that a few months back I found a complete set of the Golden Book Atlas in an Alvin antique mall. I purchased it as a companion to the complete set of the Golden Book Illustrated Encyclopedias that I found in the Elgin Antique Mall a couple of years ago. I had owned a set of the encyclopedias when they were first issued in 1959, my parents having purchased a volume at a time in a grocery store promotion. I had read my set to tatters and was delighted to replace it. I didn't even know the atlas or dictionary existed at that point.

I bet I am the only one you know who now owns all three sets of these books. (Thanks to Google, I just discovered there is at least one other set out there left for me to acquire - a Golden Book History of America series.) At the same store, when I went to the counter to make my purchase, I heard a faint little whisper from the counter under the cash register and there sat a terrific little Japanese vase that also came home with me and will find a home in my miniature oriental room.

I had no expectation that there would be anything to find in the antiques store on the corner because they seldom have anything in my price range. And, in fact, I did not find anything but a slightly interesting oak buffet that refused to say anything to me. I was almost through the door when the little voice said "Hey, over here!" There, sitting in a little alcove, was a piece of golden oak furniture that I could not at first identify. So instead of running through the door like I should have done, I went over to get a better look.

The culprit was a pretty little sewing stand. I was hooked almost immediately, although it took me another 15 minutes strolling through the next store before I made up my mind and went back for it. It will be perfect as an end table in my living room and will also provide another nice storage place for my good yarn stash. (As opposed to the plastic bins in the garage that hold my mediocre yarn stash.)

The little sewing stand came with its contents, a motley assortment of yarns and needles and pins and patterns. I carefully, to avoid needle sticks, removed everything and learned that the previous owner did embroidery. In addition to the handful of threaded tapestry needles, I found little balls of yarn in about 20-30 different colors, a handful of embroidery floss, 4 pillow covers stamped for embroidery and in untouched condition, 2 books of embroidery stitch guides, and a card of buttons. I had a vision of some little old lady who enjoyed crewel work as she watched television in the evening and whose family, when she died, sold her sewing stand as it sat. It needed a good home and it knew a sucker when she passed by.

I was not the only one making good finds today. Karen and David took home a back seat full, because there were little voices yelling at them right and left, too. It was a good day for antiquing.

Then we headed on to Lincoln and ate at the Elm Creek Cafe. I indulged in a big chicken fried steak and David and I split a piece of dewberry pie.

It may have been a little cold today, but we had a good time poking in the corners of the little shops, talking to the proprietors, and figuring out how to fit everything in the small backseat of David's pickup for the ride home. Sometimes you just need to go on a ramble and listen to the little voices.

LSW

Musical Memories

I'm sure everyone has experienced a sudden flashback when a particular song from your past pops up on the radio. Smells, too, can take you back to a point in your history, but music is a more common source of time travel for me.

I have been listening to a new album by Rosanne Cash called The List which are her covers of a list given her by her father Johnny of essential country music songs. It is a very well done album and well worth a listen. Nothing like good old-fashioned country music to take you back.

Thinking about Johnny Cash got me thinking about a song of his that will forever transport me to middle-Tennessee in the summer of 1969. A Boy Named Sue was hot on the charts as we took our annual road trip, visiting various Civil War historic sites and headed for the Great Smoky Mountains as our target destination. I never ever hear that song without flashing on a little motel somewhere in Tennessee where we stopped for the night very soon after hearing that song play on the radio.

This past week in a used book store I ran across a piece of sheet music that I purchased because it rang one of those distant memory bells the instant I saw it. When I was in 4th grade or maybe 5th grade, it came time for the annual piano recital and my teacher got the brilliant notion that some of us should sing as a break in the midst of all the tedious piano pieces. I don't sing. That is, I don't sing alone. I have a thready soprano that is supported by lungs scarred by childhood asthma. I have no volume and very little breath control. Nevertheless, it was decided that 3 of us girls in our grade would sing as a trio and each of us would have a line or two to sing as a solo. That was bad enough, but the song she chose for us was Red Roses for a Blue Lady which sounds completely weird coming from 3 pre-pubescent girls. We sang and our bored parents politely clapped, but I have hated that song ever since. Why, you may ask, did I feel compelled to buy the sheet music these many years later? I have no idea. Childhood trauma causes unpredictable actions in later life.

It was a year or two later that the same piano teacher got the idea that we should all get a song of our own to sing as a solo. My assigned song was Edelweiss, a sweet little song and very moving when Christopher Plummer sang it in Sound of Music, but it suffered greatly under my rendition. I can still remember the hot spring night, standing on the auditorium stage, my thin little voice reaching about 5 inches past the microphone, and being very relieved when it was all over. My teacher went to Europe that summer and brought me a little package of dried edelweiss as a remembrance of my connection to that song and which I still have. Thankfully that was the last year I had to sing anything solo. I think she finally realized that I had not inherited my father's vocal talent and gave up on my potential singing career.

Two songs forever connect me to the two years I played basketball, another activity for which I had absolutely no talent whatsoever, but I did try. One Saturday we traveled to some spot close to San Antonio to participate in a tournament. We got drummed out of that pretty fast and on the way home we stopped for hamburgers at some little joint that had a jukebox. 96 Tears by ? and the Mysterians and 98.6 by Keith got repeated play and every time I hear them now, I flash back to that little hamburger joint somewhere between San Antonio and home and I'm eating a greasy hamburger with a bunch of giggly teenaged girls.

El Paso by Marty Robbins takes me back to two places - the parsonage at Oak Hill and the little rental house where we lived in Victoria. We got our stereo while we lived in Oak Hill and one of the first records Daddy bought through the Columbia Record Club was More Greatest Hits by Marty Robbins. I loved Marty Robbins and I played that record a lot. When we were in Victoria, as I described in a previous post we did a lot of dressing up and play acting and I can remember acting out the story of El Paso as I listened to the record. I don't remember very much at all about that house, but I can remember the front room where the stereo lived and the green braided rug under my feet as I danced and sang along with Marty. Marty Robbins records taught me a lot about harmony. Dancing, not so much.

A George Strait song, All My Exes Live in Texas, will always remind me of Colorado. It was very popular one year when we headed out on our annual camping trip to Gunnison and it must have played at least once an hour every time we had the radio on. That's a long drive and by the time we got home, I did not think it was as great a song as I had thought on the way out of Texas. But I still like it and I still think about that drive to Colorado every time I hear it.

Another song that always brings Colorado to mind is Patty Loveless' I Try to Think About Elvis. The last time I went to Colorado, I drove by myself and spent two weeks wandering about Colorado on my own, just me and my dog Bebop. That was the popular song that summer. It always brings to mind me driving along that long stretch from Lubbock to Clayton, New Mexico, Bebop sleeping peacefully on a pillow beside me. That trip proved to me that I could travel by myself and get along just fine. I'm not sure I would try doing that again - oh, sure I would - but somehow I don't think Mojo or Coco would be such great traveling companions. Bebop had a great time. That trip is one of my fondest memories of him.

I always enjoy the little unexpected trips down musical memory lane when a song from my past is suddenly dredged up out of nowhere. Satellite radio gives you a lot more of these opportunities with their stations devoted to classic country and early rock and roll. Recently I tuned to the classic country station on my cable tv and realized that I was singing non-stop all morning as one memory after another rolled out of their archives. Today's country music just isn't the same as listening to Patsy, Hank, Marty, Johnny and Loretta.

Good music and good memories. Except for that Red Roses for a Blue Lady episode.

LSW