Backyard Safari

A few snaps of the backyard and environs for your viewing pleasure.

The back of the house, still life with patio furniture.





The addition, christened the "Tea Room" during Angela's visit. AKA the flood zone.



The Grove. Two oranges and a grapefruit, we think.

The Dilemma

I haven't posted much about church. Not because there isn't fodder (boy, HOWDY is there fodder!) but because I have some reservations about how my unvarnished, new person observations and on-line processing would go over with the locals.

I don't want to censor myself here. But I mentioned my blog while I was helping with the house painting and one of the church ladies said she'd like to read it.

I got slapped with the label "man hater" when I was the New Gal in my Ohio student ward. It was inaccurate and seriously detrimental to my social life; I battled this wrongheaded notion the entire time I lived there.

I don't want something like that to happen here, especially since we're here for the long haul. Of course, I own the things I say here, but reading my blog doesn't necessarily provide the Whole Picture of ME. I'd like people here to get to know me in three dimensions. I'm not sure how the blog fits in. I don't want to alienate anyone.

Then again, I may forge new friendships based on shared dislike of the Sunday School teacher's 100-yard-dash through the lesson material every week.

Give said the little stream

I spent the past 2 days helping a couple in my new ward pack, paint their house, and sort garage sale stuff. My mom has been pep talking me to volunteer, so I did. It got me out of the house and put me in better spirits.

And I scored some church books as their thank you--ones on marriage, motherhood, priesthood that I will have fun dissecting, plus some Lowell Bennion/Carol Lynn Pearson volumes.

I got to spend time with some women in the ward that I normally don't see--the ones who disappear into Primary and YW. The Primary president is a HOOT. Reminds me of Swizzies, big time. She's setting me up with her hair guy and gave me the lowdown on some folks in the ward (apparently, we have a Close Talker). Oh, and she wants me in Primary, bad. Oy.

I met another woman who works at the local bookstore and was also great fun to talk to. She doesn't come to church much; had I not showed up for the volunteer gig, I wouldn't have met her. She asked how Mike and I met--and had actually heard of Sunstone! Can you feel the kinship?

I also got recommendations for female doctors and learned that the local school district is always looking for subs. If subs get combat pay like they do in CA, that might be worth doing a couple of days a week.

Or maybe I'll rent myself out as a personal organizer, painter, and home stager.

More wedding & bachelorette party photos

This batch courtesy of high school pal, Wendy, and her fascination with all things Mormon.

The limo spirited us away from the rehearsal dinner about 10:00 pm and took us to a salsa club until the wee hours. And yet we all appear the next day fresh as daisies despite the wilting heat.

http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=pi9fe2z.3g8e4dvj&x=0&y=-hzvm10

Be sure to read the captions. It's not quite like being there, but it's close. Except the part where she made fun of my spreadsheets.

The first guy you see me dancing with--blue shirt, hazy off-center picture--he's the one who gave me his phone number. Didn't quite seem to grasp that I was busy the next day getting married and wasn't going to call him.

On Being Unemployed

The last time I was unemployed was a stretch between college and grad school, some 10 years ago. I was also dealing with health problems and a surgery that took 6 months to schedule, making it hard to do anything but thumbtwiddle. In addition to feeling icky physically, I was feeling icky emotionally. Not a pleasant time.

I'm trying to have a different attitude this time, but it's still a struggle on some levels to enjoy the down time.

On the plus side, I get to plan meals and cook and venture into new recipe territory (thanks, Adriana). I get to organize my stuff in a new, large space. I get to add to or make over the landscaping. I have time to read, watch movies, blog, read friends' blogs, sleep in, and watch HGTV for ideas.

OTOH, that damn ingrained WASP work ethic leaves me feeling like a sloth for not having a tangible work product at the end of the day--a cleaner house, more unpacking done, etc. Do other housewives or househusbands feel like this, or is it just me?

I know the only pressure being applied is from the weight of my own expectations. Maybe I can table them until after I get back from California at the end of October--and in the meantime try to enjoy what may be one of the few less-encumbered periods in my life.

I'm sure once I am working again, I'll kick myself for not taking full advantage of my current life of leisure. I can always be more systematic about job hunting later on.

Memed

DC Rush Hour got me with this one.

1. Reach for the nearest book to you and open it to page 12.
2. Find the 3rd sentence.
3. Find the 4th word in that sentence.
4. Do a Google Image Search on that word only.
5. Choose the 5th image and post the resulting picture to your blog, along with the word you Googled and these instructions so others can play!

Book: The Elements of Style, Strunk & White.
My word: admires

My resulting image:

Here comes the Eurythmics' song again

Our house. Our mailbox and street swamped by yet another torrential rainstorm. This is getting tedious.

Photo Safari

Just thought I'd post a few pictures from McAllen taken during my forays. Apologies in advance for the sure-to-be-wonky spacing of pics and captions.




There are several of these around town. I wonder which is the best Best Little Warehouse in Texas?




Local gas prices, rumored to go even lower to keep us addicted. Pay no attention to renewable energy sources behind the curtain!



Victoria's got no secrets. We do. Intimate Secrets. My secret? I ran that yellow light. Shhhh.

I Spy

I misguidedly clicked on a window telling me to update my computer's Java platform. I thought it was something I needed to do--kinda like when Adobe Acrobat tells you when an updated version is available. Since Adobe Acrobat is fairly useful, keeping it updated is a good idea.

Well, what I clicked to update was more malicious. Now I have pop-up ads indicating I can clean all the porn off my computer (oh?) or apply for some third-rate credit card. These are annoying, of course. Worse are the audio-only movie ads that come booming out the speakers at random intervals. I hate them. They startle me. First thing in the morning, I don't want to be startled.

The only part worse than having to deal with these intrusions is that I unwittingly did this to myself. Argh. Maybe when my spies realize that I only visit friends' blogs, Google, and look up driving directions around McAllen, they'll get bored enough to go away. Nothing to surveil here. Move along!

Beanie Weenie

Tuesday morning. Grocery shopping. Canned foods aisle, bean section. Limited selection.

Store brand, Hill Country Faire.
Goya brand, budget-friendly y hecho en Mexico.
S&W on the Specialty shelf; overpriced.

Which brand far outnumbers all these combined?

Bush's Beans. Coincidence?

Tito's Tacos

My dad (and years later my college roommate) introduced me to Tito's Tacos. It's on the westside, so I don't get there often. I used to plan my flights so I'd get in to LAX when Tito's was open so I could fulfill salsa and burrito requests for Utah-bound Tito's fans.

Our trip to LA last weekend to attend the memorial service for Marianne also afforded us the chance to dine at Tito's.

Mike, who ventures farther across the Tito's menu than I do, ordered a chicken tamale, a cheese enchilada, and a crispy beef taco with cheese. I always get a meat and bean burrito; the only variation occurs in the number of tacos I order.

I don't know when I'll get back to Tito's; hence, there was gluttony. Chips, salsa, guacamole that Mike ordered. A taco covered in shredded cheese with salsa ladled over the top mixing with the juices of the meat inside.

Waiting, waiting impatiently for the burrito to cool enough to handle. Nibbling an opening. Kneading the glorious bean and meat filling out the top and into my ravenous mouth. Suckling, slurping, savoring. They call it Tito's. I call it heaven.

Given our proximity to Mexico, there MUST be something comparable to Tito's in McAllen.

Got Balls?

A couple from church invited us over for dinner several weeks ago. As we were answering the usual get-to-know-the-newbies questions, I asked one of my own: where can a girl play tennis around here?

Turns out, I asked the right person. The wife plays several times a week--leagues at one of the local country clubs, lessons with its pro, and on a team that travels to play other teams in the area.

Joining a country club isn't in the budget, but this morning I tagged along with another woman in the ward for Tuesday morning women's tennis league at The Cimarron.

Fortunately, another "extra" woman showed up so I actually got to play. We lasted seven games (I won 2 and really need to work on my serve) before the sun and heat got to us. I hung around and watched the doubles players until my ride was done with her games. We retired to the clubhouse for a little post-workout fruit and conversation before she brought me home.

The only local/public courts are at McAllen High School. They're close enough to be convenient, but lack amenities. No chilled, filtered water for the masses playing there. And if I go too early in the morning, I'm told I'll be competing with a gaggle of Winter Texans for a court. Hey, at least it's free.

Lights Out

Sunday morning at 6:30 am, we got another doozy of a rainstorm. In spite of the work Mike did on the raingutters over the weekend, the water still came in. When there's THAT much water, there's not much you can do.

Our street flooded again, leaving the minivan up to its bumpers in runoff and water lapping at my car's back tires--and it was parked in the driveway.

Just after 7:00 am, the power went out and Mike and I mopped water out of the addition by flashlight. Two hours later, we'd fended off the worst and went back to bed instead of taking cold showers in the dark and going to church. (I like to think of it as a newlywed prerogative). Plus, we weren't sure if the church (2 blocks away) had power.

The power came back on just before 1:00 pm, about the time we woke up. Thank heavens. I'm not used to having everything electricity based. In California, if the power went out, you could still take a hot shower and cook if you had a gas stove. Here, natural gas just isn't as big. Propane is, though.

I guess it's time to get prepared for this region's most likely natural disasters: hurricanes and big ole thunderstorms.

Any suggestions for food I can cook on a 2-burner Coleman?

Local edition

I was perusing the McAllen Chamber of Commerce website and found this link:

http://www.mcallen.org/visitors/

Sadly, it's too late to enter the contest to win a trip to McAllen, but the page had some interesting information. I didn't know McAllen was considered the Square Dance Capital of the World. Did you?

I also checked out www.RGVImpress.com. I ran into the site's webmaster on the doorstep of the one Thai restaurant in town and he handed me his card.

I was hoping for actual restaurant reviews, but it looks to be more of a listing service for restaurants without much editorial comment on the food. For the latter, I'll have to keep reading http://www.dallasfood.org/ and Chowhound.

Buggy

It's been too wet to put out mouse traps. But the other critters have been keeping me busy--especially the ants.

Texas ants come in many sizes and hues. There are little red-brown ants that gravitate to the bathrooms and kitchen (found most often in the pANTry). There are small, rotund black ones that snake across the patio and up the side of the addition.

There are medium-sized red ones and black ones shuttling down the trunk of a backyard tree like bonbons on a conveyor belt. And then there are the giANT, half-inch long ones. Euuuw. I found one of these in the bathtub and called PK over. He toyed with the giANT briefly before turning tail.

PK has been more helpful hunting larger bugs. I can no longer deny the presence of roaches. He's left dead ones in the hall and even brought one to bed, deposited on Mike's side, perhaps as a gesture of male bonding.

But PK walked right past this one. We think it's a baby tarantula. It's also THE reason I no longer walk around the house barefoot.

Ma Bell

Between the Traumaversary of 9/11, news of a friend's death, rain damage to the house, the reality sinking in that I live in South Texas, don't have any friends here, and spend most of my time alone, it's been a rough week.

Add in that I'm unemployed and adjusting to being financially dependent on someone else after being independent for many years. And apparently I have a weird housewife gene that makes me feel like I have to have SOMETHING to show for the way I spent my time--and on the days I don't, I feel like a slug. Where did that come from?!

After getting pep talk calls from my mom and mother-in-law and making calls to several friends, I felt better. I did get out of the house and take care of a few things this week. (Watching Jon Stewart helps, too).

I've decided that part of my readjustment process will be making good use (if not outright abusing) our unlimited long distance calling. So don't be surprised if I reach out and touch y'all more often than I have been.

I'm also going to be honest about how hard this transition is. When I moved to Ohio a decade ago without knowing anyone there, it was for grad school. I worked, went to school, went to church, made friends (and enemies), and settled in. But it was also intended to be temporary.

This move is permanent. And while there are many things to be happy about (adoring husband, affordable housing, untapped opportunities, and the one Thai restaurant yet to try), I'm still struggling with the permanence of it. Wondering if I'll make friends as dear as the ones in LA. Wondering when (if?) I'll find meaningful work. Wondering how to embrace this place and make peace with being here for the long haul.

I know I'm not the only one who's ventured into the great Unknown. What has helped you adjust to a major change of venue?

Stuart Little Doesn't Live Here Anymore

Living in Texas means dealing with bugs and rodents.

During a lull in Monday's deluge, I walked to the back gate to see how full the drainage canal was. On my way back to the house, I noticed a mouse (let's agree to call it a mouse and not a rat, OK?) running along the side of the house toward the back door I'd left open.

I redirected it with a combination of whooping and hollering. It retreated to the corner of the house and crawled into a tiny space between the concrete and wood panel wall. Its downfall: an exposed tail.

I'm not a fan of rodents, much less cohabiting ones. (Hey, I have enough to get used to living with a husband). I didn't want it to get away (the mouse, not the husband), so I pinned its tail under a brick and ran in the house to get some tongs.

Stuart got vocal when I pulled on his tail and wedged himself in further. I tipped a saucer of rainwater into his hiding place and he loosened his hold enough for me to extract him. Great. Now what do I do?

I didn't have the stomach for drowning him, so I marched him to the back gate and flung him toward the drainage canal. He landed on the bank. I'm hoping that he was sufficiently disoriented to not find his way back.

And those tongs--strictly for outdoor, non-food use from now on.

Chance of Showers

An afternoon deluge left me bailing water out of the garage and the addition on the back of the house. The rain overwhelmed the gutters and collected at the base of the addition and seeped in/under/through the tile floor/baseboards. Nice!

During the height of the storm, I remembered I'd left my car windows cracked. When it stopped pouring and gusting long enough to venture outside, I saw this:



West Upas Avenue is under there somewhere.

And in the backyard, another sea change:



The runoff flooded the outside tiled patio and seeped under the corner of the house and into the addition (aka tea room). I dragged furniture, camping equipment, and boxes out of the way, but the water came in other places as well.

My project: mopping up and Raiding the insects that took refuge inside. Mike's project: repair/redirect rain gutters. Maybe get some trash cans to catch runoff and use for irrigation.

I miss being a renter. Sigh...

Some sad tidings

This morning's email contained a message from Mark, the officiant at our wedding, informing us that his longtime girlfriend, Marianne, died the morning of September 9. So today while the nation is reminiscing about the losses of 9/11, I'll be putting on Pink Martini and the CD of oboe music she gave me and remembering Marianne.

The last time we saw Marianne was earlier this summer. Mike and I got together with Mark and Marianne after we'd asked Mark to marry us. We talked over what we wanted to incorporate (and to avoid) in the ceremony. And over Indian food and later, tea, we talked about life, religion, politics, and the curious habits of dogs. Before that evening, I did not know one could have a pet in a no-pets apartment if one had a prescription for said pet/service animal to alleviate depression or other complications of being terminally ill. Sadly, Marianne was unable to attend the wedding and other related festivities as her illness sapped her strength and stamina.

We'll be going back to LA for Marianne's memorial service at the end of the month.

Underneath the sad, I'm crabby that cancer has claimed another much beloved friend and wonderful human being. Marianne D., DeWitt B., LeGrande S., Bing L. I know an awful lot of cancer survivors (including my dad), for which I am grateful. I just wish everyone could survive cancer and die of old age instead. Is that too much to ask?

Culture vulture

Mike is watching a show (mXc?) poking fun at Japanese game shows. People are trying to run across 6 or 7 turning spheres and failing--and falling--spectacularly. Hurrah for late night cable!

One of Mike's colleagues told him there is (gasp!) an art house movie theater in downtown McAllen! So, earlier this evening, we paid a visit to Cine El Rey to see "An Inconvenient Truth." Excellent film--with major moral and ethical implications. Made me want to change out my regular light bulbs and trade in my gas-guzzler for a more fuel efficient vehicle. Catch it if you haven't already!

Alas, we STILL don't have working high speed Internet, despite the daily calls to Time Warner Cable and their promises to make service calls and have their wireless specialists call us back. Of course, Time Warner advertises heavily in this market and every time I see one of their commercials, I roll my eyes and seethe.

Mike has a connection at the local newspaper who told him about some reporting jobs opening up. Work in a field I have a degree in? That might beat out the tea shop gig.