Spain: Vejer

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In August of 2008 we got to travel to Spain for a family wedding.  I remember the flight(s) being LONG but I was grateful to be going.  First we flew from Dallas to Dulles (Virginia) and then on to Madrid.  Once there we took another flight to Jerez de la Frontera.  Pictured is our lovely room’s little private courtyard Burk and I would enjoy for the next week.  It is part of the Casa Del Califa whose origins date back to the 10th century.  Sitting in the heart of the old palm filled plaza is a big circular, colored mosaic tiled fountain.  The whole little town is washed in white and rests high on a hill with narrow winding roads leading up to it.  I remember being surprised by how much I enjoyed this trip.  I always thought I might love Italy more.  But all the Moorish influences were too beautiful for me to resist with their rounded doorways and more Eastern architecture than Western.  We did a lot and some of it is a sort of blur; but a pretty one.  I never probably would have come here if not for this wedding and it was an enriching experience.  I shall endeavor to share highlights of my trip in the hope that someone reading this will be able to visit (or revisit) some of the same places.  And, if you never go, perhaps something I write about will interest you enough to take a virtual visit.  It is amazing (and I do not ever use that word lightly) how far one can go, do, and see on the internet now.  So sit back with a glass of sangria and take a trip with me to the South of Spain.

“Spain is a fascinating mix of people, languages, culture and food, but if there is one thing all Spaniards share, it’s a love of food and drink.” ~ Chef Jose Andres Puerta

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Now She Can Have Her Cake and Eat It, Too

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In the week since I’ve found out my little one is gluten intolerant and also cannot have dairy or eggs we have been to two birthday parties.  Both served pizza and cupcakes.  Both she could not eat.  At the first party she cried because she wanted to stay and sing “Happy Birthday” to the birthday girl.  (I was trying to get her out before they started eating.)  God bless them for being considerate enough to get her a dairy free, egg free, gluten free cupcake.  I know you won’t believe this but you would never know the difference; it was truly delicious.  I have now discovered snack mix she can have while others are eating pizza and I hope to get to the point where I bring her own pizza discreetly and slip it in.  The great thing is it requires vegan cheese and she is developing my sensitivity to animals.  Whether or not she is headed down the path to being a vegetarian I cannot say, but cutting dairy is such a wonderful thing to do for the cows.  She had a great time and proudly ate her cupcake along with everyone else.  I am told Disney World accommodates gluten free as well as other food allergies, God bless them.  I left today’s birthday party with an elated kiddo who informed me she did not need a nap but dozed off mid-sentence.  American author Peter Guber said, “Stories aren’t the icing on the cake; they are the cake!”  I look forward to enjoying a lot more cake with my precious, beautiful Baby Doll.

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Water Seeks Its Own Level

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My father always used to tell me that water seeks its own level.  As I get older I realize how much brilliance is packed into that small statement.  Compassionate people go with compassionate people (and get labeled animal nuts), complaining people go with other complainers (and feed on negativity), artists gravitate to other artists (and swap creative energy), and athletic people find other athletes to play with, even if it’s not the sport in which they excel.  I think the exception to this is mean people.  Mean people always seem to have a silent leader — like a general quietly commanding their troops.  And the wanna-be “in” crowd fall in line like lemmings.  I have a lifetime of experience with the last, mostly based upon our (lack of) economic status.  In the fourth grade I was the only one in the Dallas Girls’ Chorus who could not afford to make the trip to sing for the President in Washington D.C.; the other girls were vicious.  I knew my folks were working hard to even get me to rehearsals and concerts and to pay for my uniform.  So I told them I had a great year but I was ready to leave.  I wasn’t; it broke my heart.  I loved to sing.  But I did not want to put any more pressure on them when I knew there was absolutely no way they could pay for it.  I remember being snubbed every day at the water fountain during our break and the girls talking about their nannies who braided their hair.  And I realized that despite my loneliness and my sadness they were the sad and lonely ones.  I had a mother who loved me and waited to teach school until I was in junior high.  My parents made incredible financial sacrifices for my happiness.  I knew Mama was waiting for us at home in our tiny apartment with an incredible meal on the stove.  I always asked Daddy to pick me up on the side because I was ashamed of our car, for which I was also made fun of.  But I knew I had the love and support of my parents shown to me daily in the time they made for me.  I was closer to them than anyone on the planet.  Sadly, that meanness I always experienced has followed me into adulthood; I’m not sure why.  By that I do not mean I am part of it!  It just still seems to happen to me.  It also happens to my husband.  Aside from my Daddy, I have never known a finer man.  I think Freud would agree I married someone just like my father not necessarily in looks (although they do share incredible handsomeness) but in traits and values.  In 1 Chronicles 16:11 of the Bible it says:

Seek the LORD and His strength; Seek His face continually.

I have always loved fortunes in “cookies” and pictured above is the one I received last night.  “Those who seek will find.”  I intend to seek the Lord and His strength and to seek His face continually.  I intend to seek out the compassionate, the artistic, the athletic, and the kind people with whom I can build friendships.  I want the same for my family.  And, if we cannot find anyone else like-minded, God in His graciousness has blessed us with each other.  I have never gone along with the crowd, nor has my husband.  I can tell my daughter will not either.  Water seeks its own level.

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Find Me Gluten Free

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It’s official.  The doctor called with the results from my four year old’s endoscopy and she is gluten intolerant.  I am grateful she does not have a more serious disorder.  As anti-GMO as I have always been I feel woefully ignorant of the fact that basically gluten is a filler they’re putting in all our food.  I don’t allow the wolfies or kitties to have any grain/fillers in their food!  And yet here we’ve been chucking it down unwittingly all this time.  I truly had no idea how prevalent it is.  Again, I’m looking at this as a blessing in disguise.  Our bodies weren’t meant to digest this and I’ve been speaking with more and more people who are refusing to eat gluten simply because they realize it is bad — not because they have any problems with it.  So my little one and I were looking through the grocery store to see what we could eat and she was the one who asked about pretzels.  I told her I had no idea but we could check.  I immediately found these and could not believe it was gluten, dairy and egg free:  the three things she cannot have.  I did not even know it took eggs to make pretzels to begin with.  We decided to break them open right there in the aisle and I prayed they wouldn’t taste like cardboard.  I have never really yearned for pretzels and these are terrific!  They taste so good it’s shocking.  Christian novelist C.S. Lewis said, “Every disability conceals a vocation, if only we can find it, which will ‘turn the necessity to glorious gain.”  I was elated for my little one and knew if we’d found this we would find other things.  And we would be OK … perhaps even better than we were before.

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A SPAradic (Re)Treat

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I have made no secret of my love for my Apple Watch.  In fact, I credit it with making me realize how sedentary I was despite the fact that I walk a lot.  I cannot go to any gym because they make me extremely anxious.  Between the blaring music, flashing television screens and weights being slammed down, or some instructor shouting at a group of sweaty people, it’s all a bit too much for me.  I far prefer the outdoors and watching the sun rise or set as I jog.  I made a New Year’s resolution to “make” my rings on the Apple Watch every day.  There are three:  one is for standing each hour, one for moving (calories), and one for your heart.  Of particular import to me is the one which requires getting your heart rate up for half an hour.  Instead using food as a congratulatory, at the end of each month I am treating myself to my all time favorite indulgence — a 90 minute hot stone massage.  It is the best reward for me for a month of daily running and, if I miss once no matter what, I don’t get it.  So I am trying to use that as the proverbial carrot to keep going.  Not only am I sore from punching and kicking in karate, it offers a soothing environment which helps tamp down my anxiety.  So now I have gotten two wonderful massages, along with virtual medals from my watch noting each month’s worth of consistent exercise.  I am trying to make this a habit like brushing my teeth; I want to get to the point where I simply do it.  When I don’t want to, or I’m too tired, I remind myself of the need to stay healthy.  American essayist Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “The reward of a thing well done is having done it.”  I hope to reach that point.  Until then I shall anticipate my next date with those heavenly smooth hot stones that await.

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Not So Super Tuesday

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My little one went with us to our local library to watch us vote.  It wasn’t her first time but it may be the first one she remembers.  I can still recall going with my folks when they voted back when there were sliding curtains and levers.  It was always impressed upon me that to vote was both a duty and a privilege.  Now it is her time to watch the example we set and to learn the importance of making your voice heard.  Sixth President of the United States John Quincy Adams said, “Always vote for principle, though you may vote alone, and you may cherish the sweetest reflection that your vote is never lost.”  I have to say this is the most discouraged I have ever felt in an election, and I have voted in every once since I turned 21.  This picture of my little girl wearing my “I voted” sticker pretty much sums up my feelings.  People presume I am a flaming liberal because I care so deeply about the environment.  Others assume I’m a hard core Republican because of my views on pro-life.  I refuse to be labeled.  My mother was gently reared by parents who always voted Democrat as they felt loyalty to Franklin Delano Roosevelt for helping pull the country out of the Great Depression.  My father on the other hand was a staunch Republican and in fact worked very heavily on Barry Goldwater’s campaign.  They used to joke they were going to the polls to cancel each other out.  But they always went.  And they always went together.  This country needs to do the same.  With one presidential nominee spewing unspeakably foul things, and one whom I believe bears the weight of a good man being brutally raped and murdered in the streets of Benghazi, I do not know how to cast my vote between the two in good conscience.  Mama used to joke that in Texas you did not vote FOR someone so much as one voted AGAINST them.  I sincerely hope it does not come to that.  All I know to do is pray that this nation elects a leader who is fit to serve the highest calling of our country.  And may God have mercy upon us all.

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A Leap Year And A Leaky Fountain

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It was a day full of running around.  I hadn’t slept much and my little one was in her frog pj’s all day.  A friend thought I was clever for putting her in them since this was a leap year.  As much as I would like to take credit for being witty, it was just happenstance.  Every morning I fill our fountains for the day and, in my haste, I neglected to do so today.  Tonight I discovered our pot fountain was dry; there was almost no water left in the reservoir.  I hastily filled it to the brim but it seemed too late.  Water is supposed to pour from the top vessel to the center one and on to the bottom before returning to the basin to start again.  I have spent many years as a caregiver and I am thankful to have a husband and daughter who need me now.  But I realize I have neglected myself and in turn I know I will not be able to help them if I get too burned out.  As silly as it seems, I stood there with that hose willing my little fountain to work.  It is a small thing but it brings me peace and joy.  Finally I shut off the hose in resignation.  I had neglected it to the point of it just giving out.  Then as I was turning to close the gate I started to hear the faint, beginning sounds of water trickling.  And I realized, you cannot give from a dry well.  It is not selfish to make a little time for one’s self and for some reason I guess I needed to give myself permission to do so.  This struggling fountain was a physical reminder that I mustn’t let myself run dry or I will be of no help to my family or others.  American author Jim Rohn said, “You must take personal responsibility.  You cannot change the circumstances, the seasons, or the wind, but you can change yourself.  That is something you have charge of.”  This also served as a reminder to me that, in my arrogance, I need God.  I can do nothing without Him.  I have everything because of Him.  So many references are made in scripture about Christ being the only living water.  I need to spend more time at the foot of the fountain that never runs dry.

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Childhood Scrapes

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Looking back I marvel that my mother’s hair remained naturally red into her ’80’s.  I cannot imagine the terror I unwittingly put her through all before I was four, about the age I was in this picture, and the age my little girl is now.  When I was around two and a half apparently I drank an entire bottle of Avon Skin So Soft and had to have my stomach pumped in the ER.  I actually remember the charcoal and that is was HORRIBLE.  I recall the feel of the cold metal table and can still see the avocado green dividing curtains in my mind’s eye.  Unbeknownst to my poor folks I also drank something at the vet’s office once.  It was the ’70’s and, not only were there no childproof caps, stores left bottles of all kinds of stuff right within the reach of little kids.  Fortunately nothing happened to me.  When I was three I konked my noggin on the corner of my father’s mahogany desk and it burst an artery in my head.  I remember blood spurting out in all directions and it getting all over the walls.  And then there was my finger.  I was playing with my friend and he accidentally slammed my left middle one in his front door.  By the time I got it out the top part was literally hanging by a piece of skin.  Blood was EVERYWHERE.  I kept asking my mother if I was going to die as the huge pool of blood continued to spread centrifugally around me.  There were no cell phones then and Daddy was out working.  We only had one car and Mama had to track him down and tell him to come home right away.  They say I still have my finger because I was so young.  I have no scars and I am lucky it grew normally.  I did have to wear a cast with a metal splint on top of it for almost a year and I remember crying because we were supposed to go to Six Flags the next day.  The crazy thing is I rode roller coasters and every other ride all with a finger that had been completely severed for over four hours not even one day earlier!  That was the ’70’s for you.  Now they have a jillion warnings about heart conditions and medical issues practically before one can even enter the park.  My sweet girl is facing two procedures tomorrow and I would give anything to take her place.  I pray with all my heart nothing is wrong or, if there is, that it can be fixed.  And then I think of all the parents with children who are in hospitals or who have had far worse scares and I am ashamed I have not remembered them in prayer.  I have always thanked God for our own good health but I have failed to pray for the good health of others.  That is something I will never neglect again.  Mahatma Gandhi said, “It is health that is real wealth and not pieces of gold and silver.”  So for anyone who is reading this, thank God for your eyesight.  Be thankful for the ability to eat, to get around, and to hear.  And while you’re counting your blessings please pray for others to have the same.  Achukma hoke.

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The Gatos Malos

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I realize I have been remiss in not writing about a big part of our family — our cats.  All of them have a story.  We have a Bengal that wasn’t deemed “good enough” by a breeder (Elgin is marbled; not spotted).  Sweetie, the sweetest calico cat ever, someone just gave up but at least to a rescue organization.  And then there is Soleil and her kitten Giverny; they were about to be gassed to death in a shelter.  Soleil is unusual in that she is orange; statistically only about 20% of females are.  I call them collectively the “bad cats” but actually they’re all pretty good and they are super friendly like dogs.  I cannot imagine watching TV, reading or sleeping without a kitty by my side.  One even likes to “help” me bathe.  Years ago I had a girlfriend who didn’t have cats come over to watch mine and my condo while I was away on a trip.  She was completely freaked because things were different every time she was there.  Cabinets would be open or knickknacks on a table would be in a different place.  I laughed and told her it wasn’t a poltergeist; it was just the cats.  They get curious, or bored, or playful and move things around.  An all-time favorite quote of mine has long been writer Robert Heinlein’s “Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea.”  The worst is when I cannot find one of them.  They have turned up everywhere from the attic to the linen closet.  One time I heard meowing coming from our master bath and the cat had managed to wedge himself in between closed drawers.  I kept opening them but could not find anything amiss.  Now all their collars have little bells on them so it helps us know where they are.  When our daughter was a toddler we had our cabinets “childproofed” (but also really “catproofed”) with a magnetized locking system.  There’s a knob and when you place it on the cabinet it opens.  I once looked and looked everywhere but could not find the darn knob when I was in the kitchen trying to cook.  About to give up, I glanced over and found Sweetie pictured above.  Notice anything??  Remember the bells they have?  They’re metal.  LOOK what I found attached to her — THE BLASTED KNOB!!!  She had been calmly watching me the whole time.  Then there was the infamous Thanksgiving incident on our formal dining room table.  The cat ran down the entire length of it, stepping in my good china, and stole the turkey.  I was horrified because it was my first Thanksgiving married but my grandmother-in-law just sat back and laughed.  I have a little plaque which reads, “Cats are like potato chips.  You can’t have just one.”  I know I cannot save them all but at least I saved these.  And they saved me right back.

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Miss Piggy Was My Mentor

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When I was six I remember I got a poster at the mall for the wall in my room.  I think it was the first one I ever had.  It was of Miss Piggy with long, curly blonde hair and she was holding roses.  I’d always assumed she’d won a beauty pageant.  I kept that poster up for almost a decade.  I loved her strength and confidence and watched “The Muppet Show” faithfully with my folks each week.  I still have my silk jacket from the fourth grade that says, “C’est moi!” on the back of it.  I also loved that she knew karate but she was still feminine and spoke French.  I was too little to see her self centered, egotistical side and just took the traits I admired in her.  Today I realize I speak French and have been to Paris, I was in the Miss Texas U.S.A. pageant, I keep my hair longer and curly, and I finally started taking karate.  Kind of crazy.  This was my first belt testing ceremony.  I think I shocked my instructor when he asked what made me want to do martial arts and my answer was “Miss Piggy”.  But there you have it.  I started something I wanted to do my whole life almost 40 years later.  And I am proud to say I was awarded my yellow belt.  My husband and my daughter were there watching me and I hope I made them proud.  I wish my folks could have been there.  I want to set an example my daughter will follow.  Never stop learning; never stop trying; never stop aspiring.  I do not have a deep, meaningful quote this evening.  Rather, I think I will close with the song I associate most with Frank Sinatra:

“Young at Heart”

Fairy tales can come true, it can happen to you
If you’re young at heart.
For it’s hard, you will find, to be narrow of mind
If you’re young at heart.

You can go to extremes with impossible schemes.
You can laugh when your dreams fall apart at the seams.
And life gets more exciting with each passing day.
And love is either in your heart, or on it’s way.

Don’t you know that it’s worth every treasure on earth
To be young at heart.
For as rich as you are, it’s much better by far
To be young at heart.

And if you should survive to 105,
Look at all you’ll derive out of being alive!
And here is the best part, you have a head start
If you are among the very young at heart.

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