Tina Mitchell Wilkins
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Outdoor Couch

6/25/2021

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I have been wanting one of those cool rattan outdoor couches with big fluffy pillows for years now. I have looked longingly at the gorgeous sets at Home Depot, Lowes, World Market and at At Home. I sit in them, sometimes stretch out and lay on them, pretend I am having a conversation with Oprah on them and then ultimately talk myself out of buying them. You see, we have a lot of seating in our backyard. Treasures passed down from our parents & friends, mostly. I even have an old iron combo set from my brief first marriage. (it’s nice that some things last) But I have always wanted the comfort of one of those sweet sofas.


I was casually researching things on the internet and somehow, it read my mind and started interjecting outdoor furniture in my brain space. It’s like when you talk about something in the kitchen and Alexa and your iPhone hears it... and then suddenly ads start popping up everywhere you look. White rattan, tan rattan, chocolate rattan. White pillows, orange pillows, blue pillows. Remember when we would sit in front of the TV on Saturday mornings and watch Bugs Bunny being lured with a carrot? Eyes with hearts in them, half closed and floating toward the trap? Yeah. Me. Couches. Fluffy.


Here’s my reasoning. Thought I would start with that, because you already knew I bought something. Coffee. Coffee made me do it. Every morning (truly, I cannot wait to wake up and have coffee. Some people cannot wait to go to sleep at night, I cannot wait to wake up to French Roast.) During the shutdown, we started our morning with a nice cup and sitting outside. Not too exotic. Not too unusual. People do this all of the time. Well, our dog Ranger thinks it’s a national holiday every time we start the coffee, because that means we are going to SIT down outside, usually together, while he wrangles the lizards that have taken over the world. He LOVES it when we have coffee.


Since the big Texas freeze, our backyard has been in a bit of disarray. It was a tiny fairy garden of love and paradise during the days of Covid, but now needs some attention. Walt is a beautiful gardener, so he is slowly digging, replacing and creating an artistic palate of gold lantana, autumn sage and agave. I painted the concrete patio last year to kind of look like a street in Portugal. I bought a huge stencil, painted the base layer, stenciled for 600 hours (ok, maybe 6 hours) and it actually looked pretty sweet. Now it’s peeling and slowly
making me want to cover it with a dull gray and sadness. BUT.. I bought a couch, so that means we will have coffee outside and that means I will be looking at the sad porch and that means I will need to power wash, sand and start fresh again. Ranger will be happy because we will be outside and I will be happy because I will feel like I am again in Portugal with my loyal pup and the darkest of roasts, for the mornings.


So Wayfair. Wayfair is the devil. Well, not the actual devil, but it has it’s hooks in us. You look up one tiny couch on Wayfair and then all of a sudden your computer is flooded with patio sets, arbors, fountains, jacuzzis, flower planters, back yards in Tuscany and things you absolutely Need. And Want. And Need. So I scroll. I scroll until I find the sofa that will tie it all together, so we can have French Roast coffee... make our dog happy... make each other happy...live life to the fullest and create peace in the world. I found it. It’s beautiful and it will change the course of our backyard parties, thus, the World. But, it cannot be delivered until late July. And there is a hefty delivery charge. Then I happen to remember that Amazon Prime is my friend and so I blow Wayfair and all it’s glory a kiss and drop on into couch-land on Amazon.


Amazon is a different animal. You want a couch.. here are 4. All the same couch, different suppliers, different prices, but we can get it to you a minute ago. Found it. Bought it. Shipping tomorrow, The world is about to be happy.


Our couch is delivered quickly. It is also in a big box. I might have not read the fine print on Amazon that said, Assembly Required. I open the box and it has everything placed in it perfectly. The couch pieces, the cushions and the millions of screws, bolts and washers. And a tiny screwdriver thing. I am not a fan of putting together IKEA furniture, but I would take it over what was presented to me at this very moment. But the best most worst part was looking at my husband’s face when he saw the box. I now understand why the fabulous couch was on sale. For 200 bucks more, we could have had a fully assembled couch, that fit perfectly in our truck, that 2 of us could lift with ease... but back to the husband’s face... I think he took a look and thought, "There goes my
Saturday” (leaving out the expletives) But he was wrong. It was “There goes my Saturday, Sunday and Monday”. He’s a trooper. I’m a good trooper’s assistant and it was time to either begin or send the huge box back.


We dumped out the 1000 pieces out on the peeling patio and took a look at the instructions. 
(note.. below is just one snippet of the instructions... I found the one part on the paper that didn’t have sweat and tears of angels all over it)


See y’all, Piece of cake! A very detailed, time consuming cake. Like a tiramisu, but not as deliciously gratifying.

So we got started. We both worked together, we worked separately. We laughed, we yelled, we fought. Ok, we didn’t yell or fight, but I thought it would be an exciting addition to the murder mystery movie that will come out of me buying a couch in a box on my husband’s one and only half day off. After a day or three, we finished, turned the couch over to its rightful side, added the cushions and stepped back to look at the masterpiece.
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I said..”Well... it doesn’t really go with the other outdoor furn... I mean... I LOVE it....(as to not be sleeping on it for the next week) 

Cheers!  Here's to many morning coffees on the couch.  Until the next sale.  


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Random thoughts to keep the wheels greased...

1/4/2021

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1/1/21
Ode to a Black Eyed Pea

The child refuses to eat black eyed peas.  He's not really a child anymore, but he's still & always will be "our" child.  The year needs some luck and without him just trying ONE black eyed pea, it may all go to hell... again.  I can't remember if he had one last year on 1-1-20, but there's a pretty good chance that he did not.  Not that we're blaming all of 2020 on him, but who knows?

We've tried to disguise them in the Texas Cowboy Caviar or beautifully prepared with vegetables and sausage or hiding it under the ham or even a teaspoon  fresh from the can.  We tried wrapping it in bologna, like you would if you were feeding your puppy a pill.  It takes everything he's got just to swallow one.dang.pea.  It's just one.  One for the world.  Just one pea.  Give Peas a Chance, child. 

After ribbing and cajoling, he ate one. This year might be a little better than last year.  Thanks to the child.



1/4/2020. -Wimberley, Texas
Sister Golden Pants

A near perfect day in the Hill Country. 
73 Degrees
Sitting distanced from everyone on the porch at a local restaurant, I notice two lovers on the lower patio.  We are merely the landscape, like tiny trees and clouds in a Bob Ross painting to them.

He brought his ukulele and plays love songs.  She wears her marigold colored pants with the tiny top that shows just a hint to midriff, just because.. well.. 20. 
She sits with her legs propped up on the bench.  He wears his sunglasses and sings of her beauty. 
The ukulele even has a fancy case.  It's life affirming to witness, amidst the distancing and the masks. 

I can hear a note or two, but mostly I hear the traffic from the street and the song "If you like Pina Coladas"  through the speaker right above my head.  This was almost a perfect scene until the Pina Colada played.  Now I will be singing "If you like making love at midnight, on the dunes of the cape..." for the rest of the day.   The lovers will be kissing and holding hands and not singing the Pina Colada song.  They will singing the tune that the brave lover was singing to the tiny top and golden pant sprite.  Maybe they will be singing How Deep is Your Love or You are So Beautiful or Brown Eyed Girl, by the creek, on this almost perfect day in the Hill Country.  

Now Dream Weaver is playing, boxing Pina Colada right out of my brain, saving my day from a pink  & baby blue, feathered hair flashback.  Things are looking good again. 




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New Year, Amen.

1/2/2021

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 Well that was weird. 
   
I had the strangest dream.  I dreamed that on January 1st of 2020 I was singing with The Mystiqueros at one of the most iconic and fabulous places in the world, Gruene Hall.  I was dancing with friends, standing next to Ron Flynt, gazing out in the packed audience and smiling so huge that my face hurt.  It was a beautiful night, filled with beer,  love and snacks that our friend Mary Johnson made & passed around to the entire crowd.  It was a glorious ending to a great band.  The Final Mysitquero show. It was sad, but soulful.   Everyone loved that dang band.. but after 13 years,  it was time to move on.   I floated on that hippie musical love wave for a long time.   January was full of gigs and fun.  February was full of gigs and more fun.   March was full of baseball and gigs and oh holy hell, what?!   The TP is being hoarded at HEB?  I heard the crowd at the Leander High baseball game nervously talking about this virus and how it is making people stock up on TP and paper towels and cleaning supplies and hand sanitizer and Oreos.   And wine.  For the love of all things holy.. NOT the wine.   

We had a gig the next night in Dripping Springs.   It was weird not to hug our friends.   It was the introduction of the elbow bump.  It was bizarre to talk about something so foreign as a "Pandemic" and not just the normal stuff like blowing our diets, what our kids were up to and where we were planning on going for Spring Break.   I remember a pack of kids all gathering around our friend,  and fellow musician, Marion Brackney...while she crouched down and showed them her violin close up.  There were probably 6 kids  staring at Marion with awe.  Like some kind of real life super hero.   It was beautifu.l and the night was, although strange,  still kind of beautiful too.  It was a tiny bit of heaven, amidst the looming news.

 Then I woke up.  Then we all woke up.  

I just looked back on all of the months in my 2020 calendar.  All of the gigs cancelled, trips cancelled, games cancelled.   New, strange virtual plans implemented.  Bad days.  Sad days.  Good days.  It was the roller coaster of roller coasters. It was like The Galactic Vomitronasorous in the worst theme park ever.    I had a year like that in 1994 and 1996. And 2013. But those were merely 1st and 2nd runner up and the Miss Congeniality of bad years.  This year though...  was just flat surreal for all of us. The Twisted Surrealasaurus. We all had things cancelled.  We all stayed home and washed our hands into chappedom.  We all grieved for what could have been.  Some of us experienced the deepest of sorrows, in the hardest of years.

Deep Breath.  Deep Pause.  Continued Faith.  Abundant Prayers.  Vigilant Care.  

We throw away last year's calendar and we start anew.    Even though logically, it is just another day... it feels fresh to our psyche to begin again.   Metaphorically, the slate is clean.  It's good to clear out the junk of the past year, closets, garages, the pantry, attitudes, self loathing and the liquor cabinet.    It's good to write down new goals, hopes and dreams.  It feels right to create a positive roadmap... and hope we can get to the next level that our souls desire.   Maybe this year.  Maybe this year.   Maybe this year will be my year.   I think there are a bunch of us who could be healthier, strive to be happier and do our best to be better humans than we were at the Piggly Wiggly in the paper aisle in the 3rd week of March.   

Some lessons learned from 2020?   Be Kind & take care of each other.  Don't hoard shit.  Pick up after yourself.  Plant a garden.  Plant a tree.  Recycle your tequila bottles.  Write some poetry.  Paint the playground.  Take a walk. Take responsibility.  Take science to heart. Be thankful.  Wash your hands.  Wash them again.  Wear a mask.  Wear a mask and volunteer.  Call your friends.  Call your family.  Don't take travel for granted.  Don't take each other for granted.  Don't take your vibrant health for granted.  Eat an apple rather than the Scoobydoodles.  Take vitamins. Read a book.  And maybe, when we leave this big blue marble, perhaps the generations will say... "It took a pandemic, but they kind of got some things right." 
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Adventure

11/10/2020

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It's probably because we have not been able to freely roam in a long, long time.  Being safe and mindful is the only way to be right now.  We need to get a handle on this contagion, so we will follow the rules to do so.   Not being able to just jump on a plane and fly to Europe is a weird sensation.  Not that I've ever really done that... you know, like the romantic movies... buy a ticket, pack a coat, Ray-Bans, toiletries and spin the globe.  Hey!  Let's spend the week in Spain!  Jump off the plane, look around, hail a cab, meet a guide that shows you around Barcelona for the day.  He just so happens to be driving a taxi in the big city, to make some extra money to support his family's vineyard, that for generations has made the most luscious Tempranillo, but has fallen on tough times because of a recent drought.  He will do all that it takes to save the heirloom vines that his great-great grandfather planted, nurtured and harvested for the good of the village.   His wine brought the community together, when things were falling apart.  I learn all of this while he is driving me to my hotel, before I venture on the next day to the La Rioja region, which so happens to be the place where his family lives.  After a refreshing night of sleep and a quick tour of Gaudi's art installments, I meet Francisco,  who found someone to cover his shift, to accompany me on my visit to La Rioja.  We travel by rail for 4 hours and he tells me of the simple life, growing up in the middle of a vineyard, while I tell him of a contrasting life of living in suburbs of the US with it's greatness and fails.  He is particularly interested in the wild spirits of Texas ... and I am invested in his stories of the dominant flavors of the Tempranillo varietal.   We laugh, we cry, we drink fabulous wine on our journey.  When we arrive, we are greeted by his extended family... swished off to a brilliant stone home, seated at a long table with white linen, faded silver, hand thrown pottery, cheese, cured meats, olives and yes, spectacular wine, from one of the 9 red noble grapes.   It just so happens that one of Francisco's brothers plays Spanish guitar, so he just so happens to have it with him and the family just so happens to sing and cry and dance between our late lunch courses, that the grandmothers make and serve but don't speak any English.  It's a glorious celebration of all the senses.   I even try an olive, which is weird because I hate olives  but everything seems just so perfect, that I thought maybe they taste differently here in the wine region of Northern Spain. Nope, still olive-y.  The 70 degree day, my perfect choice of the one outfit I packed at the last minute,  my ultra cool sunglasses, the light reflecting off of the colors of the changing vines... everything is in its heightened state.   It leaves me feeling tingly and dreamy.  


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Oh.. I just realized that I feel asleep on my computer.. my hand is tingly and I must have been dreaming.  What was I saying?  Oh yeah.. I need an adventure. 





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Clarity

11/7/2020

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I pray for clarity.  Daily, I pray for peace.  I pray for forgiveness and understanding.  I pray for you.  I pray for me.  I pray for our future.  I pray for our past.  But today, I pray mostly for sweet clarity.  

The lightness that comes after experiencing sadness and disillusion, is a welcome gift.  The colors of the world seem to pop, I can smell bacon cooking a block away, I can hear an owl from the schoolyard at dawn.  They were always there, but my clouded perception blocked my senses.  It's like I was in a Star Trek episode where they put a forcefield around me... to only experience what was about 5 inches from my face.  The funny thing is though, you learn to adapt to the routine of the forcefield.  The forcefield can be a myriad of things. Spiritual, physical, emotional... you know, life stuff.   Then one day you wake up and find that someone left the mystical key close to where you can stick your hand through the mystical bars and the mystical guard is asleep like in an old western movie and the mystical dog is right there with you, because he knows what it's like to want to fly and then you slowly creep your too- big- hand- for- the- bars to the tiny key and you barely can touch it and then you accidentally knock it away and then the dog mystically feels that he must move it with his nose closer to you, because your freedom is his freedom and then you are sweating because you know this is your one and only mystical chance to escape with your new friend the dog and then you start to feel that it's your responsibility to free the both of you and then you start to smell the bacon down the street... that the dog has been smelling since it came out the package and then you find yourself feeling that key on your fingertips, to the middle part of the digits to the top part of the palm to the opposing thumb that the dog wishes he had to a full grasp.  You then take the key swing your hand through the too small bars wrap your hand around the lock and then the guard stirs.  He is a bumbly kind of fellow that is really not fit for guarding, nonetheless, he is mystically in charge.  You continue to try and unlock the mystical lock and after a couple of solid turns, it works.  Now a more spiritually trained writer would most likely say that after all of that effort and self imposed constraints, ultimately there is No Lock.. but I am not that evolved, yet.   So the lock comes off, the guard wakes up just as you are making your escape, the dog leads you to the door, you open the door and the light, the bacon and the owl are all there... waiting to welcome you with open arms.   

Then, for a moment, you experience it.  The deep breath, the wider view, the cool touch of the breeze.  You feel... well... Alive.   Ah! To hold on to that feeling!!  To just hold. on. to. that. feeling.  

Wishing you mystical moments of clarity today, Nov 8 2020. 




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Unicorn

11/2/2020

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 Yesterday I drove home from a beautiful day in Luckenbach.  For those of you who have not been,  Luckenbach is a cool place in the Hill Country of Texas where one can sit and listen to great music , have a beer and meet all kinds of interesting folks.  It was a perfect weather day.  People were kind and listened peacefully to the music. It felt a bit like church.  Church with beer and puppies.   The gospel was delivered by song, the congregation was diverse, fun and colorful.  It was All Saints Day and it felt like it.  I did not know who was going to vote for whom and I did not see any friction either way.  What I saw was love.  Love and more love.  People buying beverages for each other.  Kids running up and down the hills and climbing trees.  There was no argument when one had to put on a mask to order drinks.  People minded each other's space.   A few even sat away from the crowd, quietly yet proactively minding their own health.   

We live about an hour and a half drive from Luckenbach.  My husband has played the first Sunday of the month (March-Nov) for 10 years now.   We have spent a lot of time witnessing the magic of this place.  We know that every place has its quirks, drama and troubles... but yesterday felt immune to it all.   It's always a tough place to leave, because you know eventually you have to jump back into real life.  


I left a little early in the set because 1:  I knew if I stayed, I would be there until 8 and would have to dodge the deer all the way home.  And 2:  I had to get home to let our sweet dog out.   It was a nice drive home.  No deer and not too much Sunday traffic.  I listened to Brene' Brown's podcast most of the way, sprinkled in with new Bruce Springsteen and some vintage Aretha Franklin.  The sunset was particularly gorgeous.  I tried to take an artsy photo of the sky in my rear-view mirror (like you see on instagram)  but I thought I'd better keep my eyes on the windy road instead.  Plus it seems like each time I think I can wrangle the sky in a phone photo, it looks like I am trying to wrangle the sky in a phone photo.   With the time change, the colors of the sky were looking like a Bob Ross painting.  OH!  And then... the moon!!   Making her dramatic exit as the featured guest star on a Saturday night Halloween.  I could see her rise in the mirror and then to my right and then to my left and then to my right again.   (FM 1431 is a winding road).   She was lighting my way home.  

When I reach the town of Lago Vista, reality starts to sink in.  I will soon be making my way back to the rows and rows of homes, abundance of traffic and perhaps a palpable tension lingering in the air.   I pass through another small town and slowly creep up on my left hand turn into our neighborhood.  It's a nice neighborhood with good folks... but I wasn't ready to release my peaceful  blanket that I was wearing from my weekend in the Hill Country.   I pass by the QT gas station & the dog park.  I turn right into the fancy new neighborhood, next to our humble older neighborhood.  I  drive through the stately homes decorated for Halloween.   Feeling the calm slowly dissipate, I look to my right... and I see a 6 foot unicorn walking down one of the streets.   I did a double take, like you see on a cartoon.  I said out loud to myself..  "I think that was a 6 foot Unicorn" ...   Thinking maybe I was hallucinating, I drove around the block just to be sure.   Sure enough.  Someone just decided to put on a unicorn costume and take a walk around the fancy block. (or maybe they never took it off from the night before)   I loved it.  It helped ease my anxiety about the week ahead and reminded me to try to stay light in spite of it all.   One degree cooler would have been the unicorn smoking a cigar.  

I might mosey into town today and buy a 1/2 price-post Halloween- unicorn costume to keep on hand for the remaining months of 2020.  When you feel the familiar squeeze of these unpredictable days, look for the 5'5 flash of white and sparkly rainbow down one of your streets.  







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World Bible School Sunset Hill

7/6/2020

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One of the best things about  living in our suburb, is that just around a corner or two, there is a hill that overlooks a limestone quarry.  The quarry is pretty active.  In fact they blast most days at 10am and 2pm.   We can feel it pretty significantly some days.  There is always a flurry of activity when one drives down the street that divides the quarry.  People tend to pay pretty close attention to the action, as to not hit the flag man or run into one of the gargantuan dump trucks crossing the street.   What very few people do notice is that up on the hill, right next to the quarry, there is a really insignificant looking building.  Almost a bunker, I would say.  The sign says "World Bible School".   I don't think I have ever seen anyone actually there, so I'm not sure if it is still in operation.    I try to see beauty in everything, but this building and the parking lot and the dead grass and the 2 sad flag poles, leave something to be desired.  You must really want to study the Bible if you go to this school... because let's face it,  you are next to a loud quarry, you have zero fun things around you and  you are surrounded by uninspiring architecture. It looks like it's pretty sad on the inside too... but who knows, maybe there is a grand sanctuary in the middle... and this is all a shell.  Symbolism of "what's inside that matters.."  Probably wishful thinking on my part.  Too many Super Soul Sundays with Oprah.   Maybe its not pretty because the WBS professors do not want the students to be distracted...because, well, World Bible School.   But I must say that the WBS folks and founders settled on a Mighty Hill.  And that hill has the best view of the sun setting over the Hill Country. (at least the closest and prettiest view that only takes us a minute to get to) 

We have been watching the sunset here on and off for many years.  Lately, with not being on the road.... we have ventured out there more.  Cool thing is that it now has been discovered by others too..  Mostly teenagers in trucks and jeeps.  They are also there to watch the sunset, maybe kiss and maybe drink beer. Which probably  breaks rules 1-3 in the WBS handbook.  

Last week I was driving home from the studio and drove up the hill to catch the very last ounce of the sunset.  I was on the hill by myself, but heard music over my left shoulder.   I squinted in the twilight and noticed a woman dancing.  I could not tell if she was dancing for someone or just for herself.  It was sweet... in a hippie at Woodstock kind of way.   The moon rose quietly  as the sun set... so she was literally Dancing in the Moonlight.   I thought that was awesome.  I also thought that she most definitely was breaking  WBS rule #4. 

I'd say tonight was my 3rd favorite sunset night.  It was a perfect setting.. just that big old orange ball, Ranger and me.   My 2nd favorite sunset night was when Walt, Luke and I discovered the crazy place... I think when Luke was in grade school   The winner night was when Walt decided to go to the hill to say a few prayers for his dad.   He called me and said that I needed to get there fast... because there was a bagpiper practicing as the sun was going down.   Coincidentally  I was already on my way there... as I had noticed the glimmer ofpink in the sky.    It was incredibly moving to hear bagpipes on the hill, bouncing off the WBS walls, falling on the ears of the teenagers in love and adding to the prayers of a son for his dad....who just so happens to adore bagpipe music.  

Maybe the WBS had it right all along.  We find our own beauty in the world... they don't have to decorate it. 











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Parks & Bars

7/1/2020

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March 13th I was in the stands watching the Leander High Baseball team take on Cedar Park.  It was a great night for a game.  Big crowd, beautiful early spring weather, the guys were playing great. Then I heard something really unusual.   One of the dads who worked at HEB grocery store was talking about people panicking and buying all of the toilet paper in the store,  Was I hearing the right?  I turned around and said, "Did you say toilet paper?"....

And so it began.  

March 14th we had an outdoor gig at Hayes City Store.  It was their anniversary celebration and we were playing for a large crowd.   That morning we heard all kinds of information about "social distancing"... not hugging.. staying 6 feet apart.  We saw a lot of friends that eve.. and it was very hard not to hug them.  We stood pretty close to each other though... maybe for comfort, maybe in disbelief.  

That day everything changed.  Watching the news it was clear that life, as we knew it... would be very different for awhile.  

We stayed home.  We washed our hands.  We wore our masks.  We cancelled everything.. and everything was cancelled for us. After a while, we were in a groove.  Peaceful walks, online concerts, online everything, really.   Toilet paper was back on the shelves.. along with bleach, paper towels and anything "clean" related.  Although, this time there was a 2 item limit. 


Then, Texas opened up. 


16 weeks after the shock and shutdown, we are seeing a 370% increase in Covid cases here in Texas.   Parks are closed again for this holiday weekend...and perhaps indefinitely.  Bars are closed...  Parks and bars.  Fun and Fun.  Fun is cancelled for awhile.  Boat ramps too.  Museums, tennis courts,  Stay home.  Do not pass go.. do not collect any fireworks.  

Then a Sahara Dust blew through.  Perhaps it blew away the murder hornets that were hanging around a month ago.  

Where to go when the world around you is closing in?  Church?  I am not sure if we can go to church yet.  The gym?  Kind of sketchy.  A good walk? Well, the Sarah Dust makes it unsafe to exercise outside.  I know.. we'll go to the beer garden down the street and hear some live music.  That will make us feel better.  Oh wait.. 

I guess we need to stay inside. I mean Real Inside.  Like to our very hearts and souls.  Meditate more.  Pray more.  Honor reading and writing and creating more. Garden more.   16 weeks wasn't enough time apparently, so here is more...time.  

And when we are in the clear, if that time ever comes, we will meet at the park... or the bar... and awkwardly hug.    


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And the people got restless...

4/27/2020

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 I have been walking a lot lately.  It is good for my spirit and well, heck.. I really like to eat.  So if I walk, I can eat chips.  More chips, add a mile.  I have been calling my walks " The Great Reward", rather than calling it exercise.  

The Great Reward has been an interesting observation tool in the last 6 weeks.  I changed up my route to accommodate more miles and a hill.  I was a little too comfortable with my 3 mile route around the neighborhood, even though I enjoyed seeing some of the same folks out in their yards on my speed walking adventures.  I think they started calling me "The Flash".   It could be a compliment or could be a joke.  Either way, I'm getting a cape.  

One of the reasons I changed my route initially, was because our little city was becoming very crowded.  The traffic was increasing day by day.  The tension was palpable.  I wasn't enjoying my walks..  I was merely slogging through.   So I chose a different path.. and it was sweet.   But not enough milage... and dang-it.. I was feeling the extra chipage.

Then all of life changed.   

I really love my family.  In order for them to keep loving me, I had to start walking more.  I decided to take on the old route and hill.  It was awesome.  Very few cars.. and a LOT of walkers, runners, rollerbladers, jugglers.   Ok, no jugglers, but once I did see a dude walking and juggling on the route.  It was cool.  Or maybe he was on a unicycle.  Maybe he had a pony.. I can't quite remember the details, but I knew he was juggling.  Another walker I would see consistently in the old hill days, was a gentleman most likely in his 80's.   He had a beautiful steady pace and was always holding 2 pound weights.  I hope he is still walking somewhere.  Haven't seen him for awhile.  Maybe he changed routes too.  

With all of us sheltering in place, yet still allowed to get outside and exercise, it created this lovely scene.  More people than ever (since we have lived here) were out with their families.  They left their cars at home...because, really... where would you go?   It felt like a tiny Utopia for a few weeks.   The Great Reward was paying dividends.  Got to listen to awesome podcasts, wave to the families, get my miles in and then eat chips. The serotonin  boost that comes with the walk is an extra bonus too.  When mama is happy... well, you know the rest.  

THEN y'all.. last week happened.  The people were restless... they were given a little more leeway... and what did they do?  They got back in their cars.  Well, some had to get back in their cars.  But some didn't.   But now they were not on the hill.  And there was a lot more traffic in Utopia.   And that kind of made me sad. 

I can feel the vibration changing.  Folks are ready to get back to work or back to a kind of normal.  It has been a huge sacrifice staying home.  Some people's business' and lives will be forever changed.  We can only pray that things will rebound peacefully, healthfully and soulfully for all. 

For a moment though, we could sit in our backyard in the middle of the Austin Texas suburbs and hear, well, nothing.  The stars, moon, planets seemed brighter.  The birds in the morning... oh Glory!!   In the midst of flattening the curve, we experienced Peace and Tranquility.   Gifts of the quarantine, I guess. 

Maybe we could keep the peace for a little while longer.  Maybe we could create a Conscious Quarantine, once we are allowed to roam free.  Wouldn't it be cool  if we started honoring Sundays again?  Or any other day of the week, for that matter.   Maybe a Tuesday.   Yeah.. Take off Tuesdays.  Or Work From Home Wednesdays.  Thursdays are too close to the weekend and kind of give that air of "It's Almost Here"..  Fridays are the weekend..  and Mondays are a necessity for us to get things moving.  So I vote Tuesday or Wednesday.

Keep the cars home.  Sing along with the birds.  Find some stars.  Walk some hills.  Meet some neighbors.  Take up juggling.   Buy a cape.   







below:  The Great Reward.. with no traffic.  A wee miracle. 
Picture
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Here We Are

3/31/2020

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Strange days...

I woke up early on Monday to stand in line at the grocery store.  Got there at 6:45... in the fog... before the sun.   We all stood 6 feet apart, waiting for the doors to open so we could all sprint to the paper goods aisle.   Doors flew open, the manager welcomed us, the flag was dropped and the race was on.   All of us in our 40's or 50's speed walking to aisle 6.   When the first person got there, we could all tell that there were no goods to be had, so we all kind of casually turned down the other rows, acting like we actually came in for baby formula or light bulbs.   

No paper.  I have not purchased tp in about 3 weeks.   My husband was lucky enough to stumble upon a 6 pack at Walgreens.  In the afternoon, at that!   That was like discovering gold during the gold rush.  It was a sweet victory for the suburbs.   He came home like he had won a major award... and truly, he did.  It reminds me of going to a pond and feeding the fish or the ducks.   Throw a little piece of bread in the water and if you are one of the lucky ones to be close, or just happen to be there when we walked up, you win!   But, whatever you do, do not put your hand close to the beaks.   Do not try to beat Ms. Pinky Sweatpants to Aisle 6 on a Monday morning either.  You could get your hand bit... or at least pecked at.  I was going to let her take alllll of the good tp.. and we would take the cheap, scratchy, recycled almost passing for tp, 1 ply.   I was kind of grateful to see the disappointment on her face, even though we came up empty handed.  I think I bought whatever was on the shelf in the next aisle...pickles or something like that, just to make the waking up worth it.    She, on the other hand,  huffed and puffed and left.   Good.  Take your pink negative energy to the next lucky store.   She probably has a garage full of Cottenelle.  

Everyone else was delightful.   Laughing at our circumstances, kind to the cashiers and the manager, grab a few things and go.   The shelves looked sad.  The produce looked pretty good.   I think people are buying comfort food and throwing their diets to the wind.   Hell, they can't go and work out, why should they eat well?  I was surprised at the bounty of green.   

When I walked out to my car, no one was standing in line to get in.  They perhaps had experienced this last week and decided to just to chance it, coming in at 7:15... they were the smart ones.  Leisurely driving through the lifted fog, easily parking their SUV's, sauntering through the parking lot, sanitizing their carts and totally avoiding the produce section.   They didn't even bother turning on their blinker to turn left on 6.   They drove right past it to the frozen section, where they could fill their super sanitized baskets with tater tots, frozen pizza and something the store folks found in the forgotten freezers in the way back of the walk-in  from Christmas. Pie crust or something like that.   

Do you remember the Nematode episode of Sponge Bob?  Where he invited all of his Nematode friends over for a party and they ate and destroyed everything?  That was the store.  


It felt a little third world-ish, in sight and in desperation.   I guess we are all dealing with this the best way we know how.  Some folks need the pie crust and some folks need pickles.  Some folks are kind and some are huffy.  Some wear gloves and masks and some wear their pj's.   There isn't a lot of joy in the grocery lately.   I remember the good ol days (4 weeks ago) , when I would get a coffee from Starbucks, grab a dirty hand basket, clean it casually with the abundant wipes, take a squirt of the free hand sanitizer (because what if someone had a cold who used it before me?) skip blissfully through the wine, bakery, fish, meat and yes.. the paper goods section... feeling free and fine.   

Makes me appreciate those carefree moments.  The simplicity and ease of our lives.   The kindness of the employees  and the glorious blessing of  good health.   

May your aisles be filled with paper towels and no one having to wear gloves to shop. May your pie crusts be few and your eggs be many. May you and yours be surrounded by sunshine and freshest of fruit.    May we all be able to stop in the aisles and talk, even if it's with Miss Sweatpants.  

May we all be blessed. 


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    TMW
    Observing things and hopefully writing about them. 

    The War of Art is my go=to book.  If you are a creator of things.. I recommend it highly. 

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