Memories of 9/11

Yesterday there were a lot of tributes and remembering of 9/11. I've been sorting through my memories since.

I do remember exactly how I found out and my reaction. The school secretary come to my room and told me that the first tower had been hit by a plane. They (the new media) wasn't sure if it was and accident or done deliberately at that point. Scary, but I had class to teach, then she came back a few minutes later with, "We are under attack the second tower has been hit by a plane. This is awful....."

The TV in the school library was turned on and teacher and classes began to gather there to watch and wonder. Replays of the planes hitting the buildings and live shots of people running and the chaos. Teachers were crying, apprehension filled the air and I just wanted to go back to my room shut the door and get back to teaching.

I couldn't do anything about what was happening, I was helpless and I wanted it get away from hearing about it. I gathered my students up and took them back with me. "Class we have to learn this was," my attitude. Nouns are more important than what is happening to our country. Not really I know, but I couldn't stand it --- I couldn't do anything --- I couldn't even watch.

That evening I attended a prayer meeting like many around the country to pray for the victims and their families, pray for the men and women who were searching for survivors and bodies, pray for safety for all of us, and pray that those responsible for this would be found and made to pay.

I remember --- and the feeling that is still with me is how helpless and defenseless I felt.

The Beach in Cozumel, Mexico

The last port we visited was Cozumel. No one had booked excursions for Mexico -- it was a day we were all just planning to hang at a beach. So about 10:30 we all gathered in the hall outside our rooms and headed out with towels, sunscreen and bottles of water.

We got two van taxis or taxies (both are correct according Webster) to take us to a free beach Robert and I knew about called Mr. Sanchos's.

After the short $80 taxi ride, we struggled across the hot sand looking for a place with tables and umbrellas that the 19 of us could get. Finally we snagged one small table with an umbrella. Amy told the waiter that came over that there were 19 of us and we would be ordering losts of beer and food and could he please find us more tables and umbrellas. He did and we did. I must add that he took very good care of us. The beer was good and cold and the food hot and spicy. Perfect for the beach.

Matt and his boys had brought their snorkleing gear so they got to snorkle around and the rest of us who were interested in playing in the ocean got to play in the waves, which were perfect gentle waves. The kids discovered they could buy tubes to ride in and had fun linking together and riding back to shore.

At some point two older Mariachi type musicians showed up and entertained us by having Carrie play some turtle shells they strapped on her and then dressing Paul in a wig and animal nose of some sort --- He was a good sport and played the maracas along with them for one song. Perfect photo op.

Abby got her Uncle Gene to take her way out to the deep water because he was the strongest swimmer in the group and also the easiest touch. I thing before he got back to shore with her he was about ready to take her water wings off and use them himself. He discovered that swimming against the current pushing a little girl wasn't as easy as he thought it would be --- well, as easy as any of us thought it would be for him.

We went back to the ship tired and sandy and for some sunburned, but cool showers and short naps revived everyone for an evening of ship life.

Wow, What a Trip

We are home from eight days of fun and adventure. It was so awesome to be with all of the kids and their families. I've been trying to organize my thoughts now for three days and have failed miserably. Everything is still running around in my head with no organization. So I've decided to just type a few things as I think about them. Tell the stories that mean the most to me, how I remember them. No order, no rhyme or reason.

First let me say that I was very anxious about this trip. The dynamics of our combined family means we have two oldest, two middle and two youngest. The girls are protective of each other and the boys are a tight band of brothers -- you know the kind -- we can beat each other up, but you'd better leave us alone or you deal with all of us. How would they blend for that long was the question that kept tormenting me. I couldn't help but recall all the times when they were younger when I felt like WWIII had arrived --- they didn't seem to like each other much back then, and we were putting them on a ship together for seven days and nights. Deep breath.

All my worry and anxiety was for naught. These are adult children who know how to handle themselves and others. Everyone was accepting of the others --- it worked. I have proof that it worked two ways: 1. No one threw anyone else overboard and 2. I heard that the kids are planning on doing it again in about 5 years.

Just getting everyone on the ship took a little planning. Five family members chose to come to Bay City on July 3, eight people chose to fly into Houston on July 4, and four were doing their own thing by coming in on July 2 to visit other family. So we had to figure out the most economical way to get everyone and their luggage from Houston to Galveston in a Suburban, a 4-door pick-up and a Chevy Cobalt.

We managed and the following are photos of part of us taken by Amy and me as we waited in line outside the terminal to board the ship.

100 Word Challenge -- Situation

Velvet Verbosity issues a weekly writing challenge. This week's word is situation. I've found myself in this situation too many times, not always for this much speed, but for speeds beyond the legal limit.


The highway, long and straight. The traffic, non existent. The speedometer climbs to 90, 100, 110, 120. I feel the governor kick on and the speed begin to drop so I back off just a little and settle for 115. I feel powerful. I feel in control as the scenery flies by the side windows. My eyes are fixed on the road ahead. There are no thoughts, just the road, just the power. Then I see him and know it’s too late. Lights flash behind me. This isn't the situation I want. Indulgence comes with a price.

I Was Accosted by a Monster Mouse

Several years ago --- I just realized that several years ago I must have had a life because most of my stories come from *several years ago* --- Anyway, as I was saying I was class sponsor for 7 seniors in a small rural school in the Texas panhandle.

One of the ways we raised money to take a big trip at the end of the year was to run the concession during basketball games. Of course at the beginning of the season we had to clean said concession stand even though it was supposedly cleaned by the previous years group.

On the day we had decided to do this cleaning we found thing in pretty good shape except for the evidence that mice had been playing around in the store room --- fortunately there had not been any food stuffs stored in there, just some equipment that could be cleaned with bleach water.

The kids were troopers and put on the rubber gloves and did a great job pitching in, working and getting things done.

But --- there is always a but isn't there --- they got to playing around and visiting and their language became a little less than appropriate with several mild curse word being tossed around. I went into lecture mode about appropriateness of language. About how the language they used was a reflection on them, their family, the school.

It was at this exact moment that one of those dear little rodents decided to make an appearance and ran across my foot. Yes, it ran right across my foot. And as it did in a blink of an eye, I jumped back as if a huge monster had just accosted me, and squealed, "OH SHIT!"

The kids all started laughing and repeating my lecture back to me about using cuss words. All I could do at then was to laugh and assure them that that was an appropriate time to use such language (even though it wasn't).

"Rats" I Needed a Hug

Earlier this week while teaching a reading lesson a student looked at me and asked, "Does it hurt when a rat bites you?"

I was caught totally off guard because we were not discussing anything remotely close to rats. I'm not sure what I answered or even if I did. (I've learned to just ignore some random questions -- I think you can understand why.)

But that question has had me thinking about rats and mice. Those rodents haven't been a big part of my life and for that I'm thankful, but they have on occasion played a part.

One incident was many years ago when a mouse was caught in one of those old fashioned mouse traps that closes on the mouse's head and kills it, but leaves the mouse and trap there for you to deal with. I was a young mother at the time with a very ill husband.

I remember hearing the trap spring and knew I would have to remove the mouse. When I first looked under the sink the mouse was still moving and that in itself really *wigged me out*. So I decided I could let it just wait a bit before I did anything.

After about an hour I looked again and the mouse was still so I got the dust pan and the broom and was going to sweep the mouse into the dustpan and take it - trap and all - out to the trash can in the ally. I put the dust pan down and started to sweep, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Try as I may each time I reached for that mouse with the broom I would start shaking and gag. I couldn't do it. I could not sweep that mouse up. All I could do was cry. I had three little girl, a sick husband, and a dead mouse. I could deal with the girls, and I could deal with a husband who was going through radiation after having a kidney removed because of cancer, but I could not deal with that dead mouse. I just couldn't do it.

Finally I went next door with the story of my dilemma and this sweet little lady came over to help. She of course, swept the mouse up disposed of him and then did something that has stayed with me for all these many years.

This dear lady wrapped her arms around me and held me tight. That is what I needed more than anything. It was that hug that gave me strength to deal with so much more. Whenever I think I can't deal with anything more. I think of her and that mouse and that hug.

Here's to March

When teaching in a regular classroom I always had certain bulletin boards that I put up each year. Ones that just seemed timeless -- and since I had a new group of students each year the bb was new to them even if I had seen it for 5 or 6 years.

One such bulletin board was a monthly calendar -- for the month of March I always put up the little poem *Here's to March
And Good St. Pat
And winds that blow
Both kite and hat.*

A simple little poem that captured the essence of March in the panhandle of Texas. The wind is going to blow at least 20 of the 31 days if not more. Forget flying a kite though. The wind will be blowing 20 to 30 mph not the gentle breeze needed for kite flying. Hats and hair are impossible. Hats don't stay on and hair is always going to look messy.

I've decided this poem would actually be good for the entire state of Texas since moving to the Gulf coast region. We have had so much wind this year. More than I remember in the previous 5 or so years we have lived here, and I've heard the daughter who lives in Fort Worth complaining of wind more this year. I won't even talk about the daughter who is in Amarillo who mentions wind a lot. I'm sure if I had family out west (Midland to El Passo) they would have the same complaints.

Wind, wind, wind. I'm so tired of wind!

Ghost of Christmas Past or Just a Memory

I was tagged by Hootin' Anni to participate in a little 6x6 meme. The directions are simple.

1. Go to your Picture Folder on your computer or where ever you stor your pictures.
2. Go to the 6th folder, then pick the 6th picutre in that folder.
3. Post that picture on your blog and the story that goes with the picture.
4. Tag 5 people you know (or don't know) to do the same.
5. Leave a comment on their blog or an e-mail letting them know you chose them.

When I opened My Pictures the sixth folder was titled 2006-12-30. Ahh, Christmas 2006.
The sixth picture happened to be one of one of my mostest fovoritest people in the whole world.

Meet Abigail aka Abby and Miss A at age 4. This smiling face is because she is getting to ride with Grammar and Grandpa over to Uncle John's house for Christmas in Sunray. This was one of the first times she had gotten to go with us on a trip more than just a few blocks. I do want to take time to explain that what looks like food on her face is actually a bruise that is in the yellow phase of healing. She had taken a nasty fall a few days before and dinged her chin pretty hard.

We usually spend our Christmases in Amarillo since there and in close by towns is where most of the family resides. In 2006 our second son, John and his wife, were hosting the *clan* for a fish fry, shrimp boil, present opening, made house. When we are all together we number 19 and this Christmas all 19 were going to be there. Yes, fun and noise.

Robert and I stay at my mom and dads whenever we are in Amarillo because they have a large house with two extra bedrooms. The day before we were to head for Sunray for our *clan gathering* it was decided that Abigail would be allowed to ride with us. She was very excited about getting to go in Grammar's car and hopped around wanting to know when starting early that next morning.

When we finally put the car seat over in the suburban and told her to climb aboard she became all grins. We picked up the only other granddaughter, Holliday, and away we went. Holliday was in Amarillo with her mom but was getting to go back to Sunray for the evening to be with her dad and the rest of her family. (I must add here that Kim has always been very generous to let us see Holliday even when it cuts into her time to have her.)

It was a fun trip traveling with them. Holliday was 8 at the time and was just wonderful with Abby. She talked to her and showed her the things she had in a bag she was bringing and in general entertained her for the 6o miles we traveled.

We had a wonderful time that afternoon/evening/night. We didn't leave until late and when we got Abby home she was sound asleep in the car seat, and didn't even wake up when she was taken in the house and put to bed, clothes and all.

And here is a second picture from that Christmas. It shows all 19 of us. This same group will be going on a cuise this summer. Yep, all 19 of us on one big ship. It should be fun.

Now the hard part; to tag five people. Here are five places I like to visit and who know me if not by sight, by site. Tag -- Your it.
Donna
Carrie
Julie
Ida
Jo Ann

100 Word Challenge -- March & Unconscious Mutterings

The 100 Word Challenge word issued by Velvet Verbostity this week comes from A Swiftly Tilting Planet by Madeliene L’Engle and is March. When I think of March I think of wind. I grew up in the Texas panhandle and I remember standing on the playground with a strong wind blowing, back turned to protect the eyes and hunkering down to protect the legs from the sting of the blowing sand.

March

A gentle March wind stirs
Softly, gently as the lamb
Hope of spring then summer fills the heart
Too long held hostage in winter’s icy grip

A stronger March wind rises
By the breath of lamb and lion.
Tender buds on trees are tossed to and fro
As the air and soul are warmed

Gusty March winds roar
Loudly, furiously as the lion
Blue skies change to the dusty brown
Plunging the soul into despair

March with ever changing winds
From winter’s cold to summer’s heat
The heart and soul are carried along
Never sure of what will be






I say :: You think

1. Resolution :: ending



2. Break :: ruin



3. Tied :: shoestrings



4. Suffering :: pain



5. Instead :: option



6. Slash :: cut



7. Divorce :: remove from



8. Cough :: cold



9. Happy :: elated



10. Sniffle :: cough