Attack Of The Mummy!

Yeah.  A bit of back story on this one.   My dad (second from left) had two older brothers and a younger brother, KG (far left and below).  In the inscrutable way of families, he was closer to his younger brother than he was to his older brothers.  When WWII broke out, my dad joined the Marines, and KG joined the Navy, so they had ships in common.  After the war, KG joined the Merchant Marine and eventually became chief engineer on an oil tanker.   KG married and they had two girls, CLK and ELG.  My dad always doted on KG’s girls and our families always stayed involved and in touch over the years, especially after KG died.

CLK, the oldest, married and had two girls, MO and MA, which my dad considered the grandkids he never had (neither my bro nor I had children).

ELG, the younger, married later in life after her father had been dead for several years, and she wanted my dad to give her away at her wedding.  The picture below right is one of my favorite pictures of both of them.

KG knew how my dad loved woodworking, and one year as a gift, he sent dad a kit to make a grandfather clock — precut wood, fittings, “internal workings”and hardware — everything you needed.  My dad had such fun putting the clock together, staining it, finishing it, and assembling it, and it had pride of place in our den plonging the hours for many years — until yesterday.

For a number of years, the clock had been promised to  CLK, to be passed down with the grandfather clock KG had made for his family from the same kit, to their two daughters.  Thursday, she and her husband MK drove over from where they live in the Dallas Metromess, with the mission of taking it back with them.   My mom  imagined they’d just unhook the weights and the pendulum, put it flat in the bed of MK’s pickup, cover it with a quilt, and boogie on back.  Guess again.  Nothing is ever simple.

Yes, you have to detach the weights and the pendulum, but no, since it is an older clock (about 50+ years old or thereabouts) you cannot transport it flat.  The vibrations generated by driving it over roads will discombobulate the machinery and disarrange the internal workings.  It has to be transported upright.  CLK had done her homework, though.  She consulted the interwebs, that fount of universal wisdom, and found reliable instructions for how to transport it. By the time they had it all wrapped up ready to travel, it had been christened “The Mummy.”

It would have to be strapped to the back wall of the cab of the pickup, and MK got one of their adjustable ladders that could adjust to just the right length to brace it at the bottom and halfway up. I didn’t get a picture of it ready to go, but CLK did.  The Mummy Goes East!

Anyway, bright and early this morning (Saturday), the clock along with several other items my mom wanted CLK and MK to have for the girls (like the silver tray her daddy gave my mom and dad when they got married) began wending their way back.

Unfortunately, while we were eating lunch Friday, CLK’s eldest daughter called to say she had just fished three dead koi out of their koi pond in the back yard. Then it was four.  Then it was five. Then it was eight (they only had 13 total, including 3 new ones). Their waterfall is controlled by a GFI plug which is turned off by throwing the breaker. (The pond and circuitry came with the house.)

Apparently what happened is that during the warm weather, the pond stratifies by temperature with the water with the least oxygen ending up as the layer on the bottom. They had torrential rains there Wednesday and somehow the extreme moisture tripped the GFI breaker. They left to come visit us early Thursday morning and no one had noticed that the breaker on the waterfall had been tripped and that it was not running. The big influx of cold rainwater sank to the bottom and displaced the anoxic layer upwards. Because the waterfall was off for almost 36 hours, the water was not being mixed and aerated and the biggest fish (15+ inches), the ones they’d had for over 10 years (of course they all had names!), were the first to perish from lack of oxygen. They were lucky the girls happened to discover there was a problem or they would have lost them all. Hopefully, the ones that are left will be OK. Three of them were new fingerlings. So very sad.  Koi are not cheap to replace.  Even the fingerlings, but koi the size of the big ones they lost are around $500 apiece.

In the knitting news, I finished my avocado “washcloth”, but that’s about it.  Too busy visiting with rellies to do much of anything knitting wise.  Here it is all finished and on my toaster with the toast rack on top.

I’ve had that toast rack for so long I’ve forgotten when I got it.  I do remember where I got it, though, from the Williams and Sonoma catalog.  It is very difficult to find toast racks in America.  I got one because I like my toast crisp.  You take a piece of toast hot out of the toaster, butter it, and lay it down on a plate and the steam makes the underside soggy — which defeats the whole purpose of toasting the bread in the first place. You might be able to tell, the toast rack consists of five letters T-O-A-S-T made from wire which are affixed to the bottom and form the slots where you place the toast (it holds 4 pieces).  The “A” sticks up higher than the rest to act as the handle.  I think its a very clever design, myself.   Of course, I store the toast rack on top of the toaster, but because of the electricity and metal involved, I like to have something cloth or cloth-like in between.  I was using a blue knitted washcloth, which clashed horribly with my AVOCADO-GREEN! kitchen, whence the need for one knitted from avocado green cotton yarn. Voilà.

 

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Ups and Downs

It’s been a tiring day. Had a bunch of running around I had to do when I’d rather be sitting at home knitting.  C’est la vie.  My first stop this morning was at my mom’s and she told me that my cousin EJ, the one we stay with when we go down to Pearland, had called to say that her older brother (my mom’s nephew) BY had passed earlier this morning.  He had been in poor health for some time, in and out of  hospital and rehab places.  Very sad.  Cousin though he was to me, there was a pretty big age difference (not just between me and him, but between his mother and my mother), and I did not know him anywhere as well as my mom did.  Mom knew him from when she still lived down there, and from when he and his younger sisters were kids.

The new kitchen light fixtures are in as of Tuesday, I love them, and they put out more light than the old ones did, so total win.

I was doing a  worked-on-the- diagonal “washcloth” from cotton thread, had been working on it for some time at knitting group, it had mistakes in it, was too big, and  Wednesday, I frogged it.  Restarted it.  Realized I hadn’t finished writing the pattern for it. Can’t finish writing the pattern for it until I finish it.  Sigh.

This is the yarn I’m using for the cobblestone lace shawl I also haven’t finished writing the pattern for.  I’ve got two skeins of this stuff, but that’s OK.  I love the color and it has a nice hand.   I’ve got to wind another ball out of it for the garter stitch lace shawl I’m doing.   What I don’t use in that shawl I’ll use in something else.  I’ve got the increases and the decreases (it’s a triangular shawl knitted sideways), but there’s a transition bit in the center that goes behind the neck.  The way the stitch pattern of the body works is that it’s got to have two rows with an even number of stitches, and then two rows with an odd number of stitches, which you get by increasing/decreasing 1 stitch every other row.  I’ve yet to work out how to get the odd/even stitch count without a net gain or loss in stitch count.  I think I know but I’ll have to sit down and do a test piece to be sure.  Which I haven’t done.

It’s been a long day.  I’m tired.  I’m going to bed.  Night, y’all.

I Can Have Tuna For Breakfast If I Want To

I have never understood this “you can’t eat certain foods at certain times” thing.  Yeah, I can see structuring your food intake for what you’ve got to do during the day, so that you eat certain types of foods (proteins, complex carbs, fats, etc.) in certain combinations designed to keep you going all day long.  But specific foods being forbidden at specific time?  Nope.  ‘You can’t have that for breakfast!’  Pshaw!  Tuna salad makes a good breakfast.  It’s got protein, complex carbs (or it does the way I make it), and it’s tasty.   (And come to that, how is a piece of  fruit pie (dessert) different than a toaster pastry?)

I had tuna salad for breakfast instead of what I had originally wanted to eat because of a Mystery.  I know for a fact that I bought several cartons of almond milk when I shopped groceries at some point recently — the kind of cartons that don’t have to be refrigerated.  I know I did.  And I know where I thought I put them.  But, I’m durned if I know where they actually are.  There aren’t that many places where they could be and they aren’t in any of them.  I’ve looked.  Twice.  How can I have cereal without almond milk?  I’ve got some lovely Cheerios and some Kashi shreaded wheat, and no almond milk.   So now, here directly, I have to suit up and schlep off to Walmart and get some.   In the rental car.

Yep.  Tues, I took my poor Greyola off to Big Daddy’s Collision Center to get the collision damage repaired.  It’s going to take about two weeks, they said.  They’re going to have to replace both door panels, and the front fender panel, and work on the rear fender panel, and they have to take bumpers off and lights out to paint.  The rental car is a 2017 silver Chevy miniSUV.  I’m going to have to put a static decal in the back window so I can locate the durn thing in parking lots.   It has one of those keyless systems — not just keyless entry, but keyless ignition, too.  So long as you are carrying this fob thingie around on your person, you can lock and unlock the doors and start the car without a key just by pressing buttons!  Oh, the plonger* envy!

So, I’m going to go brush my teeth, put on shoes, beetle off to Walmart to get some almond milk, chopped olives, and TP.  Then I’ll get my adulting done for the day (pay bills), and decide what I want to do next, which will very likely involve yarn and sharp pointy metal things.  And maybe computers.  Busy, busy, busy. . .

It occurs to me that I’ve got a shawl going in every room of the house but the kitchen at the moment, all of them for me.  I’ve got a Malguri Morning shawl in Charisma yarn “Northern Light” colorway going in the living room (TV knitting at its finest), my modified version of the cable edged shawl in Lion Brand Heartland yarn color “Glacer Bay” going by the computer, and the cobblestone lace shawl in “bluejean” going in the bedroom.   I’ve got some YouTube subscriptions that have uploaded new videos, and some blogs to read, and The Ocean At The End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman to finish rereading, and a lot of TV binge watching lined up to get stuff off the DVR, so shawl knitting is really high on the list of things that will happen in the near future.  Be nice if I can get all three shawls done in time for cold weather this fall.  Goalz.  I haz ’em.

 

*plonger - in the family parlance, a "plonger" is a small electronic device that has buttons you push to accomplish tasks -- a doorbell, a TV remote, a garage door opener remote, the little remotes that lock and unlock your car all fall under this generic term.  In order to accomplish the task, you "plong" the appropriate button.  This came from "plonging" on the door bell, which is also a common expression in the family parlance, which is what you do to produce the "classic" doorbell "pling-plong" sound.  "Plonging" would qualify as an onomatopoeic noun (for the sound) used as a verb (what you do to produce the sound).  This term has the sound and feel of one of my dad's (many) linguistic influences on the household.

Snowing Outside as Well as Inside

I’ve finally finished crocheting all the snowflakes I plan to crochet this year.  There is glitter EVERYwhere, especially in the living room carpet by where I have the ironing board set up. Whoopee!(I have it set up in the living room right next to the dining area so I can use the dining table to put the bottle of stiff stuff, and the containers of glitter and straight pins, and what not on.  I still have two snowflakes that need the second side stiffened and glittered, and then glue the ribbon loops on, and then packing one bunch to mail.  I was going to try to get them there before Christmas, but obviously, that isn’t happening.

Then I have to clean up the mess.  Ugh. I out-and-about-ed all day yesterday — I went to the dentist and the verdict is that the post is looking great.  I’m supposed to come back Wednesday-week to get the impressions made for my new molar.  I had the tooth pulled in May.  I’ll finally get the implant/replacement in January.  I will be so glad to finally be able to chew on that side again. (Oh, I can chew on that side, but it’s a bootless undertaking . . .)

After that, I went to visit my friend LB and took her a snowflake.  She had knitted a bunch of snowmen and gave me one.  She is currently dealing with her third recurrence of breast cancer which has now metastasized to her bones.  ( She’s being treated at the same cancer center where I donate the hats.)  She’s had a third round of chemo and radiation treatments to her ribs where it first showed up in the bone.  Her latest MRI showed she had lesions in all but two of her thoracic vertebrae.  She’s trying to stay upbeat.  They’ve started her on this new pill type chemo that is supposed to be really great.  I hope it works.

Last week, the battery on my computer UPS device died — I have two UPS devices, and the battery on the other one died first, and I changed them out.  Now this one died as well — and I had to go get a new battery.  I took one of the dead ones in to be sure I got one that would work, and since both devices use the same battery, I got two.  I left the dead battery with them to recycle (it contained lithium), and one of the errands I had to run yesterday was to take the other dead battery in to get it recycled as well.  And I had to go to this store to get this thing and that store to get that thing, and then shop groceries. By the time I got home, and got everything sorted out and put away, I was pooped.  As a result, I went to bed too soon after I ate supper and had a bad reflux episode, woke up coughing and gagging, with my nose streaming.  I had a hard time getting back to sleep again, and I have a sore throat, and I’ve been wheezing all day.

I had an optometry appointment at the VA today, and they dilated my eyes.  I looked a little weird wearing dark glasses on such a grey, overcast day, but I was able to drive home.  In addition to being grey and overcast, it was also colder than the proverbial wedge (our overnight low is supposed to be 24F/-4.44C tonight).  I stopped by my moms later this afternoon, after my eyes had settled down, and  her halls are quite thoroughly decked.  Our family moved to that house in the 1960’s.  The house had a fireplace but no mantelpiece, which my mom found odd and disappointing.   At the time, my mom was doing ceramics as a hobby — one of her friends had a shop for hobbyists with molds and kilns, etc., — and she was working on this deluxe nativity set which would have been perfect to display on a fireplace mantel — alas!  My dad decided to make her one, and did woodcarving on it.  It took him forever (his projects usually did), but finally he got it done. (The reason it took forever was that he was so painstaking.  The results speak for themselves).   The white pieces pf the nativity set stood out better before mom had the brickwork (and the wood paneling) in the den painted.

The picture above the mantel is a photograph my dad took of my late aunt’s former house in El Paso all decorated with luminarias.  He had it enlarged and framed and they gave it to her one year for a gift.  When she passed, her son wanted mom to have it as a memento.  My dad’s niece made my parents promise that if they ever sold the house, she could have the mantel.   When my brother and I were little (1953), this lady in their church made stockings for us and my mom hangs them up every year.  I cropped them out of the picture, because this is not Facebook.

As mom and I were sitting in the den visiting this afternoon, I looked up through the sliding glass door into their back yard, and it was snowing — just not sticking.  When I got back home,   Lo, how a rose e’er blooming in my flower bed was sprinkled with snow.   Three days before Christmas, it’s still blooming.

After having to listen to this rock diva and that country music star warble and butcher all the popular* Christmas carols in practically every business I went into yesterday, I hunted up some little off-piste delights — trained singers singing a carol that hasn’t been sung into the ground because it’s one everybody knows.

We Snuck Off For A Long Weekend

Friday morning, I got up at ye gods o’clock, bundled the fat(cat)boy off to the pet hotel and mom and I hit the road to Pearland again.   The Pearland Hyster Historical Society has their annual luncheon in October and mom wanted to attend, so off we whooshed.  It’s about 550 miles from up here in the flatlands to down there near the Gulf.  You will recall they had a hurricane there not so long ago and had a gawdawful amount of flooding in the Greater Houston Metropolitan area.  They’ve got most of it cleaned up now, although the recovery is still ongoing.

I didn’t realize until we were on the road that I forgot to pack my camera, so all but about three pictures here were taken with my phone.  My mom took the other ones.

We got there with only one small hitch — construction on Interstate 20 had the exit to State Highway 36 blocked off and we had to take the scenic route (FM 603) through Eula to get to it from the interstate.  We encountered a lot of road construction this trip, but we still made good time — We left at 7:45 a.m. and got to my cousin EJ’s house at 5:15 p.m.  We made our usual pitstop at our favorite gas station in Comanche, which is just about halfway.  My 2015 Corolla averages 30-31 mpg and I can make the drive easily on a tank and a half of gas.

My mom called my cousin EJ when we were about 5 minutes out to let her know we were nearly there, and we were told, “Never mind the sweet potato vine, park as close to the railing as you can.”  The vine grows in a pot on their back porch, and was just about to die off for winter anyway.

 

 

 

EJ is the daughter of my mom’s older sister VY, who was famous for her chocolate meringue pies, and she passed the secret on to her daughter.  My mom had this beauty waiting for her when we arrived.

Of course, the whole state is all in an uproar because the Houston Astros are playing in the baseball World Series, so we had to watch them play. Somehow in the years since my dad passed, my mom has turned into a rabid sports fan, and she and my cousin EJ had to watch the games they played in Houston.  (After watching my cousins little 48-inch flat screen TV, my mom has since decided she needs to get her one for her bedroom to replace the miniscule 19-inch TV she’s had for probably 20 years.  We’re going to go get her one tomorrow. — if she’s going to fall asleep watching sports games, better to fall asleep in her bed than in her recliner in the den.)

Saturday, we went to the cemetery to visit the graves of my uncles and grandmother. I had not seen my uncle HJ’s or QJ’s graves.  Here is my mom by her mother’s gravestone.   Her father died when she was very young and he is buried somewhere else.  My grandmother’s second husband’s name is on the headstone, but he did not adopt her children, who all kept her first husband’s name.  He was originally supposed to be buried beside her, but his relatives had him buried in their family plot near his birthplace.  It’s very confusing.  Unless you know the story, you would never connect my grandmother to those of her children who are buried next to her as they have a different last name.

After we left the cemetery, we drove down Yost Boulevard.  (The boulevard was named for EJ’s father’s people.)  Some of her cousins from that side of the family have bought my late uncle HJ’s house on Yost Boulevard and the property next door that was where my grandmother’s little house (below) was and where my mom was born has finally been sold to someone who has cleaned it up and is actually building on it now, which is great.Then

 

 

 

 

Now.

Then we went to the Historical Society luncheon.  Naturally, we had barbecue and all the fixin’s.  They had potato salad and beans for sides.  It was good. My mom is a year older than the mayor of Pearland (at left), and he always gets a kick out of seeing her.

My mom, at 93, is the oldest living graduate of Pearland High School (below).  The class of 1941 only had 14 students, and she is the only one still alive.

After the luncheon we went back to my cousin’s house.  Various family members gathered at her house to talk over old times.

The two ladies in the middle are my mother’s sister EW’s girls, MW and WM.  It was WM’s cows that I was worried about when the Brazos River flooded (cresting at 59 feet) during Hurricane Harvey.  She did lose a few of her cows, but she also lost two of her four “guard donkeys” that she keeps with her breeding heifers.  (The donkeys are very aggressive and will chase off any coyotes or dogs that try to attack the newborn calves.)  She was really lucky she lost no more animals than she did.  The dark haired lady on the right end is my cousin EJ’s daughter R. The bearded fellow on the left end is my cousin PJ.

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Sunday, my cousin EJ (2nd from right above) took us to eat at Red Lobster for lunch and then we headed for Galveston to see her son, his wife and their daughter.  This is the little girl I made all the baby clothes for.

Needless to say, she’s not a baby any longer.  She’s two years old now and a ring-tailed doozie.

Here’s her with her moma and daddy at left.

She’s my cousin EJ’s only grandchild.  Here she is with one of her (several) caches of toys.  With two sets of grandparents to spoil her, this child has made out like a bandit!

They live in this house that was built in the 1920’s on the highest part of Galveston Island, so if their house starts shipping water, the whole island is in trouble!  It has rained so much this year that the oak floors in the living room have buckled in two places from the moisture. (They’ve had 52.51 inches of rain so far this year.)

Here she is beside Mickey Mouse who, we are reliably (and frequently) informed, is jumping out of the pumpkin.  You will notice Meemaw (my cousin EJ) helping her hold one of the (real) pumpkins that was on the porch. (Peepaw sat this round out and stayed home.)  She’s quite an active little girl  — even without Halloween candy on board!

The port of Galveston is where my great great grandfather and most of the European immigrants to Texas landed.

It’s still quite an active port, with not only container ships and oil tankers coming and going, but also cruise ships.  If you recall, there were several cruise ships stuck out in the Gulf during Hurricane Harvey because they were unable to make landfall at Galveston.

 

 

 

There were two cruise ships in port when we were there.

Here’s why gas prices have been higher.  There are several large refineries in this area which were put out of commission for a while by Hurricane Harvey.  I think all of them are back in operation by now, though gas prices are still high.

 

Sunday evening, my dad’s niece EG and her husband PG came by EJ’s house to visit.  My cousin EG had both her hip joints replaced last month, within two weeks of each other.  If you are otherwise in good health with no chronic illnesses, they now send you to “prehab” to learn all the exercises and to get your muscles in shape.  Then, when they do the surgery, they spread the muscles apart to reach the hip joints, rather than cut the muscle attachments.  This makes the surgery much easier on the patient, and they can get you on your feet much sooner.  On the day of surgery, if you can get up and walk, and climb a short flight of stairs, they send you home!  She’s been doing very well and walks with only a little stiffness at only three weeks out from her second surgery.

Bright and early on Monday morning, when I got into the car for the drive home, I saw my odometer read 10,001. When I pulled into my garage, it read 10, 573.

We set a new record on the way home.  This is the second trip I missed the turn off for Interstate 610*, we took the scenic route through Temple because I missed a turnoff,** I missed the turnoff for the detour we took in Abilene (because we knew a key exit was closed due to construction) to get from Highway 36 to Interstate 20, and once I did finally make it onto the Interstate, I missed the exit for highway 84 West to Snyder!***

As a result of our various “scenic detours,” we didn’t get in until 6:20 p.m. on Monday evening. (We were under a bit of a time constraint, as if I didn’t get the fat(cat)boy checked out of the pet hotel by 7 p.m., it would have cost me another $20 to spring him.)

Coming back, we stopped for gas and a “pit stop” in Temple instead of Comanche like we usually do, and I had to stop to get gas on the way home from picking the fat(cat)boy up at the pet hotel because my “need gas” light was on and I had less than a quarter of a tank.  My car has a “range” feature that gives an estimate of how many miles I can go based on how much gas is in the gas tank, and it was showing 27 miles when I filled up!

But I want you to know, I was unpacked, put away, had all my dirty clothes washed, dried and hung up before me and the fat(cat)boy snuggled in for night-nights. (And the chicken cacciatore sauce did come out of my shirt — !)


*Although to be fair, the signage was confusing.  It showed one lane for 610 East and the lane beside it for 610 West.  Then there was an exit, which I assumed was for 610 East (which we didn't want).  But there was no subsequent exit for 610 West!  What I didn't realize until it was too late was that BOTH lanes were supposed to take the exit and THEN split to go their separate ways.

**Although to be fair, the roads were all in a mess due to major road construction, and key signs were missing. 

***Although to be fair, there was only one sign to indicate which exit we were supposed to take, so if you missed it, too bad.  The other sign had apparently blown down, according to the guy in the convenience store where we asked for directions.

Kept Awake by a Book

Mr. Penumbra’s 24-hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan, to be exact.  Not because of anything in the book — or at least not anything so far.  I’m only about halfway through it.  It’s a delightful little book peopled by an interesting cast of characters.  No.  It’s what’s on the book. The stylized design of books on shelves on the cover fluoresces a bright highlighter yellow in the dark! I read a chapter or two, put the book on my bedside table, turned out the light and … whoa!  It glowed so brightly I had to put the book in my “office” so I could get to sleep.

It’s Pinktober, breast cancer awareness month, and I’ve started another Carrie Fisher Memorial PussyHat in honor of it. I’ll probably do a couple more pink hats of various styles, but I need to finish the Monmouth hat and whatever other style of hat I decide to make out of the last of the Dazzle yarn I was gifted with by the lady who donated a large portion of her late mother’s yarn stash to the group, so I can wash them all at the same time and treat them with hair conditioner to soften them up.

I finished another Coriolis chemo hat, and played yarn chicken through the whole hat.  I did have enough yarn to finish it, with a ball about an inch in diameter left over.   The pattern makes a really nice had for being no more complicated than it is.  The yarn is that Red Heart Unforgettable in the colorway “Dragonfly.

Here it is finished from the side and from the top.  So swirly.

The lady who donated the Dazzle yarn also donated an assorted bunch of knitting needles, from which I got several incomplete double pointed sets.  The double pointed needles usually come in sets of 5, but if you can get four, that’s enough to work with.

These were US size 10’s (6.0 mm) and they’re the long DPNs.  I did get some 6-inch ones — some US size 7’s (4.5 mm) and 8’s (5.0 mm), and a couple of straight needle sets (a point on one end and a button on the other) to round out my collection.   That’s the Monmouth hat beside it.  It’s worked on a US size 10 (6.0 mm) 16-inch circular needle.  You have to do a provisional cast on, and then “hem” the bottom of the cap, which is why I had the DPN needle out. Soon as I finish this hat (for the picture) I’ll post that pattern on my knitting patterns blog.

Last week, one of my paternal cousins had her second hip replacement surgery in two weeks. (They did one hip and then two weeks later did the other one).  It was a “same day surgery” — which is to say, they let her go home the day of the surgery.  It’s a new thing.  In order to be able to have this procedure, you have to be otherwise in good health and a low surgical risk.  You have to do “pre-hab” before surgery, and learn all the rehab exercises you’ll do following surgery, and in order to go home, you have to get up, walk, and be able to walk and climb a short flight of stairs. She’s been doing really well.  The thing is, she’s about 14 years younger than I am.  Still, if your joints are in such bad shape, especially your hips, that a doctor recommends joint replacement surgery, you probably should have it done.   Hopefully, we’re going to get to see her later this month

 

The Old Stomping Ground Has Its 15 Minutes of Fame

On the Show and Tell of the Harvey Disaster Area that the POTUS was given Saturday, he deigned to visit a church in Pearland (First Church of Pearland) where relief supplies were being distributed, and if you’ve been following the news, you’ll have seen him speechifying there, and otherwise photo opting.

The thing is, in order for the POTUS to get there, he had to travel over ground that has a long history in my family (significant bits of which used to belong to my family, in fact).

Air Force One landed at Ellington Airport, the presidential motorcade apparently came up the Dixie Farm Road to get to the church (red tag), and then went back out to Ellington Airport via Yost Boulevard.

At one point, my mom’s three oldest brothers leased the Dixie Farm (for which the road was named) where they grew magnolia figs.  East Broadway, where the church is, used to be the Friendswood Highway which is how we used to get to Yost “Boulevard” from Houston back in the 1950’s when it was a dirt road paved with oyster shells way out in the country and every house on that road was the home of someone in my mom’s family.  Her second oldest sister VY lived in a white frame (1) house at the northwest corner of the T-intersection (the house is not there any more). 

Her youngest sister EW lived in this little 4-room house built in the 1930’s (below) (2), which is dwarfed by the $2 and $3 million dollar homes around it.  That’s my dad on his way in to visit my aunt in 2009.  Time has taken both of them away in the years since.  The only reason her house is still there is because my aunt befriended her neighbor’s autistic son and he spent a great deal of time with her and grew to love the house.  After she had to go to a nursing home, they bought her house for him as a “retreat.”

Further down the road was my grandma’s house (3) (above left with her daughter VY, VY’s daughter C, and nephew JCJ on the front porch) where my mother was born in 1924 (that house is no longer there).  That’s my grandma at far right with her 12 children in age order R to L (far left is mom, 3rd from left is HJ, 6th from left is EW, 7th from left is VY).  Her eldest son has a middle school named after him.   Down at the end of the road, where it dead ended was my mom’s brother HJ’s place.  It was a little wood frame house (no longer there) set in the pine trees far back from the road with a barn, and his wonderful grove of satsuma orange trees.

My uncle HJ later built a larger house (4) closer to the road, and eventually sold his orange grove when he could no longer work in it.  The patch of trees to the left in this photo is where my grandma’s house once stood.  Behind all these lovely homes runs Clear Creek, where my mom once played and chased cows.

The house (5) (at right) in the video below now stands where my uncle’s satsuma orange grove used to be and is two houses down from the new house my uncle HJ built.   You will note the name of the poster of the video below, who is one of “those” Yosts (great great grandson) for whom the road was named. One of those black SUV’s has the POTUS in it, but naturally the Secret Service has seen to it that it’s impossible to tell which one.

Life on Yost Road used to be a lot simpler.