Sunday, Sunday, Sunday....

Yesterday was just a total wipe out.  Between my niece's Med school graduation and reading Mark Wood's self penned obit, I am just emotioned out .  Cue the Lion King music.  "It's the Circle of Life"..'' .......all together now....

 Yesterday afternoon after Graduation,  Dr. Frostie texted me one final picture: that of her baby "titter", Brooksie, modeling Austin's hood from graduation.   The icing on the cake. Laughed my head off.  Sooo perfect.  

Then I read Mark's self penned obituary where he told about meeting the love of his life, Sara, on a blind date, and married her five months later.  So sweet.  She said in her Caring Bridge post, "I love a guy who writes his own obituary and does his best to try and get his affairs in order before leaving me".
  When he listed his surviving family members, he listed one of his son's, Jason, of  "Marfa, Alaska, and who knows where else."  You have to know Jason, Mark, and the Wood family, to really get that.  Oh, Lordy...funniest, best, family ever.  I only wish for his picture they had used the one of him in jeans and a fishing shirt holding up a bass vs him in a suit.  I'm not sure I ever saw Mark in a suit, and the fish one was just pure dee Mark--at least the Mark I knew.    

OK.....time to move on and get my chicken seasoned and my BGE all fired up and ready to smoke me some chicken.  Just seems like the right thing to do with it being a Sunday and all....like that really has anything to do with it.  It doesn't.  I just want to.

Lastly, I heard this the other day : a brand new arrival to heaven was asked now that he was there, what he would have done differently with his time on Earth, knowing what he now knew.  The man responded "I would have spent more time loving and less time worrying".  Amen. 

Dr. Austin Dryden Dennard...oh, yeah, baby!

From this: 

And this:                                    

(Sorry but this was too funny not to include.  Nice wedgie.)

To this:                                       

To this:                                        

Then this:                          

(Go to commercial.  Waiting on pictures of  Dr. Dennard post ceremony and pirated video will not load here.)  Tick...tick...tick..

And now this:                                                

                                             

She is now officially Dr. Austin Dryden Dennard.  Tears rolling down my cheeks....Sorry...can't help it...just sooo freaking proud.  She's worked so hard and still has her Residency to do here in Dallas, but it's O-Fish-E-Al.  What a mind blower.

Side bar: while at Hockaday, one of her pals named her Austie "Frostie Flake", so while she'll hence forth be Dr. Dennard to most, she'll always be Dr. Frostie around our house.


Just so you can get a taste of who she is, here is a pic of her live in patients. Great taste in pups, no??  That's Cash on the left and Jack on the right.  Frostie says that while Cash might have longer fur and stay warmer in the winter, boy, he be soooo duuuuumb.  Jack?  Mr. Smarty all the way.  Look at him...you can just tell.  He's all elegant and refined and...... well educated.

While I wait for a pic of her being hooded at Graduation by her best friend's dad, who is a doctor, here's what her mom just texted me.  When they call her name, and he hoods her, her name as Dr. Austin Dryden Dennard will flash up on the jumbotron for God and everybody to see!!  Well, HELL, yes!!!  No pictures or video are to be made during the ceremony but, alas...they do not know our family.  As long as it's done on the down low, from your seat without moving or disturbing any one, welllll...let's just say it's gonna 
happen...ya know it is.  I'm thinking they won't be the only one's either.  I'm sure they do photo's for you, for purchase, during the event, but that's just NOT instantaneous enough for our culture.  At least not for me anyway.

Austie's mom just texted "I wonder if they get to keep the cap and gown and hood?" and I told her I didn't know but if not, to just steal the damn thing.  After all the student loans and money that's been spent for her to get through their program, they've paid for that thing several times over. 

OMG...it just happened.  Frostie wiped away a couple of tears as Dr. Korn hooded her, and now I am squalling all over again.  Her mom is trying to text me the video but it may be too long...all 30 seconds of it, but it is adorable.  He is talking to her the whole time and hugs the bejeepers out of her at the end.  Austie just texted that he said "Shut the front door" as she walked up to him on stage, and after hooding her, said "Welcome to the club, Colleague".  No wonder she laughed and cried. 

Yes, this post is all out of sequence but then so is real life sometimes.  I had no idea I might get the real live play by play via text, when I started this post.  Thank God for today's technology...it's almost as good as being there.

Prayers for the Wood Family

I'm feeling sad this morning so won't post today.  Instead, I will send prayers to the Wood family.  Mark, the man I blogged about yesterday, died yesterday morning.  See you tomorrow.
                                                                   

Mark Wood

Lots of random thoughts zipping through my head this morning.  First up is Kobe Bryant's lawsuit against his mom, to reclaim the stuff she's been storing for him for years.  It seems she finally decided to sell the stuff and now Kobe is pissed off, and wants it back.  It seems he feels it's 1) not hers to sell 2) it's his stuff  3) she shouldn't be making a profit off of HIS stuff.

Right, wrong, or indifferent, I'm sitting on a boat load of crapola belonging to one of my favorite musicians, so I can really relate here.  I have no less than 4-5 of those huge plastic storage containers in the garage full of High School memorabilia, camp stuff, and an assortment of odds and ends of things seemingly too precious to let go of, but that MUST be saved.  I refer to this as "Yunk"--your junk.  The worst part is, I remember saying all the same garbage to my mom about why I couldn't store my stuff.  Funny how life repeats itself.  Maybe I'll just sit tight for Scarletta to hit it big, and then threaten to auction off a few mementos.

A wonderful friend of ours is extremely ill, and last night, Bruce and I were talking about what a great guy he is.  His name is Mark Wood, and he was Benji's Scout Master way back when. He is the funniest, nicest, best guy you could ever hope to know.  To say this guy is laid back is an understatement.  He just takes life as it comes and doesn't get in a flap over much.  In tribute to him, I'll pass on the story Bruce told me this morning.  To set the scene here's the scoop:  Scout Camp at Lake Texoma, in July, hotter than hell, and we had to make Benji go. (All of this was in pursuit of Benji getting his Eagle Scout badge.)

 Our troops dad's were requested to sign up to come out and spend a day or two, helping Mark get the boys through earning multiple merit badges, so as to maximize the time spent there.  Bruce spent two days out there helping Mark, and said it was beyond hilarious.  Hot, but hilarious.  It seems on one particular morning, there was a flag ceremony first thing, before breakfast, and troops were to march up the hill to the assigned meeting spot for the ceremonby.  Side bar : to know the members of Benji's troop and their total hang looseness, the very idea of marching is just incomprehensible.

OK...here comes our troop.  Floppy t-shirts, flip flops, bed head, barely awake, kicking cow pies as they came--not exactly what you'd call marching.  Here are the other troops:  starched, in full scout gear, green scout socks up to their knees, kerchiefs, spit shiny, and holding flags.  Bruce said he and Mark were struggling to breathe, they were laughing so hard, and even the boys knew they looked like the stoner Scout Troop, and loved it.  Hey...if that's how you roll, embrace it.

                                            

Thank you, Mark, for a job well done, and for all the laughs.

A new book

Oh, my stars...how could this possibly be?  I was all set to make a strawberry galette and surprise someone when he got home and for the love of all things paper, I can't find my recipe that I cut out of the DMN.  I've already gone online and searched their data base for it with zippo success so I may just have to Big Girl up and wing it.  Damn....clearly I need to get a new secretary because the one I have just isn't doing her job.  She should have scanned that thing to the recipe file and then I wouldn't be in this pickle.
                                                          

While I wait for the butter to soften a little, I have a minute to discuss my new book I started last night:  Man's Search for Meaning, by Victor Frankel.  Considering it involves his first hand experience as a Jewish psychiatrist in a Nazi prison camp, I can only handle so much at a time.  Last night he discussed how he was given a visa to get away, but would have had to leave his parents behind.  He knew he would probably die if he stayed, and wrestled with the decision of do I go, or do I stay and protect my parents, as best I'm able.  As his decision loomed, he asked his father what a particular piece of stone was...why he had it...what was it for?  His father told him it was the edge of a piece of marble off their synagogue that referred directly to "Honor thy Father and Mother".  Victor chose in that moment to stay, and he and his parents were taken away the next day. (pass the Kleenex...I liketa d-i-e-d)

The spiritual aspect of this book is what intrigues me.  People in the most awful, horrendous, terrifying experience of their lives either act with astonishing courage and compassion or turn to the dark side.  What makes some people capable of unimaginable kindness and others not, as they all fight for their survival?  Stay tuned. 

This and that

Noises.  Do they drive you nuts?  Maybe I still have my "mom ears" but noises drive me crazy.  I don't have the tune out ability of the males around my household.  Right now, the fan (?) on my computer seems to be about to head south and the sound of it, over and over, is like being water boarded....it just won't stop.  Yes, I've cut it off, nudged it, and blown air into the back of it in case it was just dusty, but this is getting to be MUCH.  Since the whole shebang is older than Sis, maybe it's just in the throes of death.  Let's hope so because the noise is soooo irritating.  I may pull a Lizzie Borden here soon.

Yesterday I received a text of Avery singing along with Taylor Swift "We are never, ever, ever, ever, getting back together" and not only does she know all the words but her facial expressions are beyond funny.  I watched it twice just to take it all in.  Her dad filmed her while she was lying on the bed next to her mom, and it's for sure Rehearsal Dinner footage for the future.  Off key warbling and noises I don't think Miss Swift makes--almost a growling at one point--assures me that just when I don't think life can get much more hilarious, it does.  Her performance is every bit as disabling as watching Hudson and Hadley, around the same age, dance and sing Beyonce's "Put a Ring on it", booty shake and all.  If I hadn't been sitting down to watch them, I'd have fallen down for sure.  Kids.  They are what life's all about.

Now, on to the news:  Well done, Angelina Jolie. Boobs are never worth dying over, so good for you, gal, to lop those babies off prophylactically.  Implants look just fine and, honey, that was a courageous thing you did to save your own life.  Boobs do not define who you are.  They are highly over rated and do not stack up against living life to the fullest--especially with six kids.  I hope you yanked your ovaries, too, since the article I read said you were also at higher risk for ovarian cancer.  And kudos to Brad for being there all the way. Sounds like you two are the real deal.  Yay for you both! 

Sunday

We enjoyed a fun dinner with our close pals last night in the backyard.  Weather was purrrrfect for eating outside and we all know that lasts for about fifteen minutes in Dallas before you are either eaten by mosquitoes, have a heat stroke, or something else equally fun happens.  Sis was her usual beggar self and worked the table like a pro.  When we first sat down, she jumped up on the banquette next to our guests, like she was part of the group.  Surprised??  Nah.   She is napping now having been up past her usual bedtime and because that's just what she does.  She naps.  It's her job.

Bruce's cinnamon ice cream was excellent and the bad news is, there's more in the freezer.  Uh, oh. I stuck a Pepperidge Farm Ginger Man cookie in the rounded scoop of  ice cream for a little pizazzzzzzz, and the crunchiness of the crisp cookie with the smooth creaminess of the ice cream sure did it for me.  Whoa. Since I forgot to take a picture of ours, this will give you the idea, minus the cookie. 

I finally got mom's weight this morning--they called yesterday but I missed them-- and it wasn't good news.  She's lost three more pounds in a month.  That said, I'm choosing not to focus on that--I refer to this behavior as "positive" denial-- and plan to go over today and see if she wants me to roll her outside for some fresh air.  She may decline as she gets cold easily and now hates the wind.  I'll wait until it hits 80+ degrees and then take her out. 

The landscape guys did a super job of transplanting and moving plants around.  Now I just have to babysit them in their new homes and keep them comfy and watered, and see if they'll survive.  If not, who cares.  They looked like hell where they were so big deal if they croak.  My gardenias have two whopping "beginner" blooms, so far, after I put on the new soil with the ph level they like, so the jury is still out on whether I can get them healthy again.  Who says I don't practice Nursing any more??

Happy Mother's Day to All!!!