Primarily...is the Election over Yet?

It's that time of year...politics is getting boring, and ugly, and ridiculous. These people have only been running for what - two years? (Or four, or eight, or whatever in the case of some of them who loose and try again.) As the conventions approach and there's really nothing left to discuss as far as who the candidates will be, there seems to be nothing worth reading, or talking about, or discussing for the millionth time. We should just have the election now and get it over with.

This week was the Texas primaries - finally! For while Texans gripe and complain that on account of their primary being so late they have no voice, it's their own confounded fault. You've probably heard around about the problems Texas had redistricting. Because, apparently, they can't draw a line. You would think that would be simple enough. William Barret Travis did it at their all-hallowed Alamo. Oh, but that's right: William Barret Travis was from South Carolina. Now there's a state that can draw a line - and call it the Stars and Bars.

Truly, Texas didn't have a whole lot to say this past week. The one important seat (Senator Kay Bailey Hutchinson's in Washington) goes to a run-off for both the Republicans and Democrats. (My choice came in on a low 4th, but I cast my vote so I can complain if I want.) My local state Congressman sent me a lovely e-mail saying how grateful she was for my support. I thought about sending her one back and informing her I didn't support her at all. In fact, I did my level best to get her out of Congress for one simple fact: she doesn't do her job. Don't call yourself a representative if you don't intend to represent your constituents. On a county level, the guy that lost tax assessor still hasn't bothered to publicly congratulate his winning opponent. Apparently, he didn't play baseball as a kid and so was taught to shake the other team's hands and say, "Good game."

In the county in which I live, Texans proved to be Texans. The incumbent sheriff lost, very likely for one simple reason: his parents didn't name him Davy Crockett or Sam Houston. The guy who did win was named William Barret Travis, after his all-hallowed ancestor. Of course, he probably doesn't know either that his great-great-great-whatever was actually from South Carolina (where he learned to draw lines). For Texans at the voting booths are easy to predict: they vote for Texans. Because, you know, Texas is the greatest state in the Union. They have the best economy, the most jobs, the lowest percentage of unemployment and how many times can Governor Rick Perry open his big mouth and say Texas does not need federal funds?

But let's get a few things straight. Unemployment is low because the millions of illegal immigrants that Texas politicians do nothing about (unless you count funding their medical, educational and everything inbetween "needs") are willing to stand on certain corners in town and be hired to do just about anything for the day. And in a state where landscaping is more important than water to drink or building more restaurants in greater demand than preserving whales; they can work every day of the week and then throw their money back into the economy (a.k.a. eating out every night). And Rick Perry is getting federal funding by sending his state's national guard into the fiercest areas of Afghanistan while the Texas border is a local war zone he ignores. Why? Well, if you're going to let them come over the border, you have to pay for their education and straight teeth, right? That's what wins votes - even illegal ones. Exactly.

So, welcome to Texas politics. Or anywhere politics. It's going to be a long five months until November...

It is Finished! (Well, close to finished...)

I took a long weekend (in the hospice business, you don't really get holidays as dying doesn't stop simply because the calendar date is marked in red - in fact, that usually means someone is going to die...which someone did), and with it finished the outside of my dollhouse. Well, mostly. There's several hours of touch-up work to be done: some trim that needs to be added and painted, some holes that need to be filled and then painted, railing to purchase and stain for the balcony, a light purchased and installed and the rocks need to be sealed just for safekeeping. Once that is done, it will go on it's display stand in my bedroom (for the inside will be a work in progress as just about everything needs to be purchased). But all in all, you are now seeing the finished project...and I'm quite excited about it (at least as excited as Melissa Michele Sturm ever gets, which isn't very).

 A close up of the chimney.

 A close up of the front bay and porch area.

 

Kitchen side of the house.

 

 

Living room side of the house.

 

 The inside as it is right now. There will be a lot of work to do in all the rooms, plus making the edges and such look nice.

 My dollhouse...maybe in needs a name.

The Grass is Always Greener...well, Maybe Not

It's easy to look at someone else's "problems" and wish you had them...because yours don't look so grand. For right now, in some ways, it seems like my life is going backward. Although as I think on that, it's more like I'm peddling the bicycle of my life backward but still going forward thanks to momentum. It didn't help when the social worker at work (who's a friend) told me this week of how fast forward her personal life seems to be headed. Yes, I envied her.

Of course, it's not like her forward peddling is all peachy keen. She was telling me of some of her speed bumps, but all I could think was, "Really? You're concerned about that? That wouldn't trouble me at all." And isn't that why her grass looks greener? Because her problems wouldn't bother me while they are very serious to her? Exactly.

So I stand in my not-so-green field, looking out over her much greener field (for the sun is shining at the right angle on her grass - at least, from my perspective) and turn around to look at someone else's field. For isn't that the way it is? We're always looking over our respective fences, comparing what the other garden is growing? And on the other side...well, that field may be green but is so dark you can't tell.

Linda, our home health office manager, got word this week that her son-in-law (who is like a son to them) is being shipped to Afghanistan. And not just Afghanistan in general but to the border of Pakistan where the fighting is fierce and because some American GI lost it on account of the stress of his job the powers-to-be have decided that our soldiers there can no longer have artillery backup. They get the gun in their hand - and that's it. He leaves in just a few weeks for training, and aside from a ceremony in July when he can see his family, will not return until August 2013. And that is, of course, if he returns at all. He's young - not quite my age - and leaves behind his even younger wife, twin 4-year-olds and a 1-year-old. Their grass seems very brown indeed.

At the end of the day, my grass is rather green. Maybe it just needs a little water. And as a kid, I always found it great fun to be able to peddle backwards but still go forward...even if it was a little slow. For the rain will surely come, and I will soon be peddling forward again - probably uphill. Meanwhile, I need to learn to be content...and pray for those in fields around me.

Expect dry weather over the next 6...what?

So, it's summer in Texas. Well, it's been that way since, like...well last May; but I mean it now officially looks (again!) like summer in Texas. You know: brown grass, dying flowers, stickers, thistles, grasshoppers. Oh, wait - it always looks like that. Minus the grasshoppers.

Haley and I mowed this weekend. Not an easy task when most of the yard didn't need it, but it all looks even. May be the last time we need to do it until...oh, October or November. Guess that's one advantage to living in Texas: the mowing season is extremely short since the grass dies, grows green for a few weeks, and dies again. Lovely.

Checked the 10-day forecast just a few moments ago. Don't know why. Hoping against hope as usual, I guess. For I can tell you the forecast for the next four months: dry, hot, no rain, dry, hot, no rain, dry, hot, no rain...you get the picture. And sure enough the next ten days will be dry, hot and have no rain! I bet you can't live anywhere else in the world where the weather is so predictable.

I had to laugh, though, at one of the boxes in the corner of the weather site. (For if I didn't, I'd cry...) It read "Expect dry weather over the next 6 hours." Really? Try "Expect dry weather over the next 6 months." Meanwhile, Melissa isn't going to be as Elijah and pray for rain. She's going to pray for a way out. She's just not sure how strong her faith is...

Minor Complications

This week I bought a toothbrush...because I was way overdue for one. (And overdue for a dentist visit, but we'll take care of that next month.) I almost forgot I had it until I went to brush my teeth before bed. I pulled it out, struggling to open the package as everyone does these days, and was quite happy to have a new toothbrush to brush my not-so-sparkling-but-very-straight-thanks-to-braces teeth. Finishing that, I absently placed it in the holder...well, I tried to place it in the holder.

The toothbrush did not fit in the holder. As I contemplated on this, I figured out it's got to be a racket between the toothbrush makers of the world and the toothbrush holder makers.

The toothbrush makers say, "We're going to make wider toothbrushes. So, no one will have a holder to fit those. You need to make larger toothbrush holders, which everyone will have to purchase. Then we'll both make money."

"Perfect," say the toothbrush holder makers.

And so we all go to the stores, purchase new toothbrushes, take them home, brush our teeth, and try to put them into the toothbrush holders. But they don't fit. So, the next day we return to the store and purchase a new toothbrush holder. Problem solved...for about six months.

Because at the end of six months, it is time to purchase yet another toothbrush (unless you have a dentist who gives you a decent one when you visit, but everyone is cutting corners these days). So, off to the store you go to purchase your favorite color (or super hero or whatever), bring it home, rip open the package in frustration, and brush your teeth. Then you place it in your holder...only this time it slides all the way through and lands in your sink...

For now that the toothbrush holder makers have supplied all the fat toothbrush owners with new holders, the toothbrush makers said, "We're going to make thin toothbrushes - after all, thin is in. All these toothbrushes will fall right through the wide holes. You'll need to make new holders, and we'll both make more money."

"Ingenious," say the toothbrush holder makers.

So, now all of us with the new thinner toothbrushes that we don't want lying in our sinks dash off to the stores and buy thinner holders.

As you can see, this is a vicious circle. But there is one solution to this problem: buy a cup. Once size fits all toothbrushes.