Spring is Here

Spring is here in North Central Texas. It is obvious in all the sprouting and flowering plants.

Icelandic Poppy
Ornamental Pear

The winter wheat practically glows in the sun. The daffodils are a bloom and the perennials are starting to come back to life. But I happen to have a greenhouse so I’ve got a bit of a jump on things.

Today it was 78 degrees. It’s February 28. I don’t know what that is going to mean but I don’t think it bodes well for the garden season this year. We’ll see.

But for now I’m happy with what I got going on in my little garden.

View into the greenhouse to the left.
View into the greenhouse to the right.
The herb project.
Someone spilled some of my seeds ... I'm not saying who (Jdubs) but I didn't want to throw them out so I just stuck them in a pot to see what sprouted. I have no idea what this is, maybe tomatoes or peppers
A little tomato is forming. And considering how warm it's been, early season is best.
More tomatoes ... these are Celebrity.

Mr. Frost and Organic Gardening

I’ve had little time to write these last few days and as a result my blogging has gone from once a day to every other day. This makes me very sad because I love to write about my life, the garden, my dog, the cat, Jdubs, my husband and sometimes I throw in a recipe or a serious commentary. I have many ideas for subject matter written down in a tidy little file.

One of the other things I love to do is read. I haven’t had much time to do anything but work lately. So when I steal a few moments to read, it’s either poetry or books about organic gardening.

Robert Frost and Walt Whitman are my favorites. I’m not properly schooled in poetry or literature in general. My studies were always more about applied science (how) rather than the theory (why).

Poetry and organic gardening … odd combo? Not really.

The organic gardening book I’ve been reading is very scientific and requires close attention to understand the complexities of what a professor of entomology and horticulture is describing.

The balance to that is poetry. Poetry is liberating, especially when penned by a brilliant master of the language. I wish I were as creative as the good Mr. Frost. But I’m so glad he left his words of wisdom behind for us all to enjoy, even if for a few stolen moments.

My Dog, Ruby

Ruby is a great dog; she’s my dog. I got Ruby in January of 2005 as a little puppy. At the time in my life I needed a companion and a loyal friend.

She is a loving, obnoxious canine with OCD. An Australian Shepherd, she is a working dog, and loves to play ball. I’ve never seen a dog play fetch like this dog. This is a photo blog of Roobs.

The ball.
Next to my bed.
Getting to go on the feed wagon.
A good shake after a Christmas Bath.
Jack and Ruby on the feed wagon together.
Ruby and Jack on a beautiful day.
Ruby wanting to come in.
Her other favorite pastime -- chewing her bone.
Photo bomb -- Ruby is also a garbage/begger dog.
Always my companion.



Yep. Today I turned 40. It was the last day of a long week of a new job – a hard job that requires all of my mental capabilities.

40 is not so bad. And it was a good night. My family and my best gal pal and dead cow with great wine and red velvet cake.

And a bucket list gift… We’re going to the Rangers Opening DAY! OMG! It’s the 40th year for the Rangers and for me too.

I have been a Texas Rangers fan for years, even in the really rotten ones. The last 3 years have been wonderful for the Rangers fans. And thank you momma for providing the credit card for the purchase of a Lexus Club level Opening Day suite! CANNOT Wait!

Photo Awesomeness in Arcadia


On my way back from Whiskey Tango Falls I got a good look at the new wind farm straddling Young and Archer Counties.

I stopped at the ranch to pick up my little kid. It was time to feed Jingle and he was hungry. Jdubs runs while shaking the bottle and the dogs are running and playing.

Jdubs and Jack
Jdubs getting expert instruction from his Capt.



We fed little Jingle with Jack's help.

That is awesomeness in Arcadia.

Fire Hoses and Turning Fast

I worked in NASCAR as a publicist for one season. Frankly, one season of racing on the circuit was all I could stand even at 25 years old. 32 weekends of travel, working all major holidays and one day a week off, which was usually a Monday that included traveling back home to do laundry before doing it all over again starting on Thursday.

I can’t tell you how many unoriginal “quotes” I heard from drivers, pit crews, owners and the like. Most of them said stuff like, “my job is to go fast and turn left.” I would look at them and say something like, try again you can do better. And usually I could get a better quote out of the subject after that.

Today was a day of firsts. This week I will turn 40 and I’m going fast and turning left. And for another overused and unoriginal expression, I’m drinking from the fire hose.

Left Turn Ahead

I took a rare night off from blogging last night … actually a good night with friends, making another batch of homebrew and genuinely gaffing off. It was a good night.

But tonight I’m thinking and anticipating my new beginning tomorrow. As I have mentioned previously on this blog, I’m going through a job transition and tomorrow is the big day. I’m anxious and hoping for the best. I’m not sure what to expect but I do know that tomorrow will be a big left turn in my professional career. Sometimes the best things come out of nowhere because the Almighty is at the wheel, and that’s what I’m hoping for tomorrow.

Giggle Trigger

Today the husband and I drove to the big city of Whisky-Tango Falls [aka Wichita Falls] to run a few errands. We went to a local housewares store in search of door hardware. And while a sales person was showing us door handles, something triggered his giggle-snort. He lost it and had to leave the store to compose himself. Ten minutes later, when he returned with his giggle under control, all it took was for our eyes to meet and then it was all over again.

I can’t go into specifics, but the giggling was simultaneously inappropriate and uncontrollable. Even 12 hours later when he thinks about the situation, he falls apart.

This could have been my husband today: