Have y’all ever noticed that “vacations” can be stressful? Lordy, ours is this week — because it’s a working vacation. Mr. Tucker is moving a shed (sideways, with a fence in the way) and I’ve been moving my office (carrying a good 600 pounds of books upstairs). On a break, I started leafing through a notebook filled with magazine articles that I clipped and saved in 1992. Don’t ask me why I saved them that long. I just have a “paper fetish.” But, it was worth it! I came across an article about stress that spoke to me.

It was from a Better Homes & Gardens magazine and included strategies for calming your jangled nerves. Pretty much, it was the usual stuff you find like:

1. exercise
2. prioritize
3. socialize
4. positive-ize (OK, it was rhyming and I couldn’t help myself)

Satchel Paige

But, he was also a “sage.” He was very wise, as evidenced in this “recipe for health.” Here’s what Satchel Paige said about his philosophy for healthy living:

1. Avoid fried meats which angry up the blood.
2. If your stomach disputes you, lie down and pacify it with cool thoughts.
3. Keep the juices flowing by jangling around gently as you move.
4. Go very lightly on the vices such as carrying on in society. The social ramble ain’t restful.
5. Avoid running under pressure at all times.
6. Don’t look back. Something might be gaining on you.

Pretty smart man, eh? I found two other quotes of his that I liked:

• Work like you don’t need the money. Love like you’ve never been hurt. Dance like nobody’s watching.
• You win a few, you lose a few. Some get rained out. But you got to dress for all of them.

Maybe it was worth lugging around that ring binder full of magazine articles for seventeen years after all? That’s the good I want to share with you on this Only The Good Friday.
Y’all can leave a comment telling me what is good with you or go write a post and join these other fine bloggers in spreading an optimism virus on the internet. If you write a post, come back and tell me so I can add your name to the list.

RV Poetry; Candid Karina; All My Great, or Not So Great Adventures; Inside Mo’s Mind; Thorne’s World; Down River Drivel; Duward Discussion; Ramblings of an Unstable Mind; Insightful Nana; Newbie Lifeline; Everyday Tarot; West of Mars; Life’s Journey; A Letter To Me; Round Circle; Barbara’s Travels; Blog of Revelation; Desert Diva; Blogjem

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Post tags: baseball, health, Only The Good Friday, optimism, stress

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Down at the coffee shop this morning, I conducted an informal poll. Folks sitting at the tables there are accustomed to me dropping by and asking stupid questions and, thankfully, they put up with me. I asked ten people, “What is the easiest baby step that a person can take to ‘go green’?”

Surprisingly to me, nine out of ten people replied, “Take your own bags to the grocery store.” The tenth person said, “Use less gasoline,” as he hopped into his Hummer (which was idling at the curb so he could keep the air conditioner running!).

OK, maybe I embroidered that a bit.

And, maybe I tainted the poll a little bit because I was lugging one of these grocery bags over my arms.

Let me tell you that I was as tickled as a possum in a plum tree when I found these babies down at the Walgreens drug store. They were at the check out stand and only cost a dollar! They fold into a neat little rectangle that actually fits in your purse … if you carry a big purse.

And what self-respecting woman doesn’t carry a big purse? You never know when you might need a pair of “footies” to try on those cute shoes, or an extra pair of glasses, or a makeup touch-up, or a handy wipe, or a tablet and pencil, or a tiny hammer that transforms into three different screwdrivers, or your grocery list from last week. Now you can carry a grocery bag, too! You’ll never have the excuse that you forgot your grocery bags when you go to the store.

They are so handy! See, they have a zipper, so you can unzip them and open them out to carry your groceries and after you put your groceries away, you can re-fold them and zip them back into that tiny little rectangle.

Theoretically.

In truth, they are a little bit like those plastic rain bonnets that fold into a tiny square. If you use that rain bonnet one time, there is no way in Thunder that you will ever fold it back like it was — so you may as well throw the danged thing away.

Folding them back is not the point. You just want to carry one, so that when you are rummaging through your purse for that hammer people will see the bag. They will know that you are an environmentally conscious human being and very well organized.

Or insane.

Besides, if you don’t have your rain bonnet, you can always stick that bag over your head and you are good to go.

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Post tags: environment, going green, groceries, grocery bags, humor

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How many Methodists can you pack into 256 square feet?

Log Cabin in Chico Texas

I guess that was the question back in the early 1870’s, because this log cabin served as the first place of worship for area Methodists in Chico, Texas (Wise County). The tiny cabin was created from half-notched, rough-hewn, oak logs and, according to the historical marker in front of it, has an interior loft. I didn’t get to go inside, because the cabin was locked up tighter than a drum, so I don’t know for sure. Was that loft for the choir? It must have been a small congregation.

I can’t even imagine being jammed with my neighbors into a teeny little space like this one, with no air conditioning, on a sunny Texas day. Especially not to hear the preacher drone! Folks didn’t use deodorant back then, either — I’d definitely be praying for deliverance.

This cabin also served as a schoolhouse, and later as a home — with a lot of rooms added to it. In 1987, it got restored to its original look.

Y’all, I wouldn’t have even seen this log cabin nestled in the trees if I hadn’t taken one of those “Scenic Routes” I told you about. OK … really I was lost, but so what? One of the reasons that those tiny country roads call to me is that I might find a “treasure” on them. Trust me, you don’t want to tail-gate me when I drive on those roads. I brake for “historical markers.”

Right next to that log cabin was another historical structure, and this one made me sad.

The Brown Hotel in Chico Texas

It’s called “The Brown Hotel,” not because folks were colorblind (you can see and I can see that it was once painted red). It took it’s name from Colonel J. T. Brown, who founded Chico in 1876 and built this hotel in 1888. I can’t fathom that Chico was once large enough to support a hotel, but I suppose it was.

I think this hotel’s “claim to fame” was that the governor of the state in 1895 had a ceremony on the porch to pardon J.T. Brown for his part in a fight fatality (again, that’s what it says on the marker). I guess they couldn’t book the state capitol for the event.

Another view of the Brown Hotel

The structure got a historical marker back in 1969, but it is just slowly falling to ruin. I think that’s a shame, but I guess there isn’t a lot of money in restoring old buildings.

My friend, and fellow blogger, Robin is probably giggling about our ideas of “historic” buildings. She regularly visits Jerusalem’s “Old City” and takes fabulous pictures of the buildings there. In the Old City, a structure that is only 140 years old would get laughed off of the block. I’m not even going to tell her that in Kilgore I saw houses that “deserved” markers because they were built in 1947!

Here in Texas buildings like those above date to the earliest settlement of the area. If we could take care of them, several hundred years from now they might be worthy of note!

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Post tags: Brown Hotel, Chico Texas, log cabin, My Neck Of The Woods, photographs, photos, Prairies and Lakes

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Daddy prided himself on his superior navigational skills. Bless his heart. Those “skills” were purely a figment of his imagination. He was the stereotypical male who would never dream of asking directions. “I know these roads like the back of my hand,” he said. I don’t think he had ever examined the back of his hand, but it did look a bit like a road map of Dallas.

It never failed that when we left my Grandmommy’s house in Oak Cliff (which was only thirty minutes from our home in Grapevine) my Daddy got us lost. Whenever traffic got heavy, Daddy decided to take a “shortcut.” He called it , “The Scenic Route.” My mother always heaved a sigh, but she knew better than to comment. The road always meandered off in a direction Daddy didn’t expect … although he would never say that.

An hour later, all four of us kids would be bouncing in the back seat.

“When are we gonna be there, Daddy.”

“It’s just around the corner.”

“How far are we from home?”

“Not long now.”

“Daddy, are you LOST?”

“I know exactly where I am. Wherever you go, that’s where you are.”

Invariably, we wound up in Plano, Texas. These days, Plano is a booming metropolis from which no human can navigate. Back then, it was just another tiny Texas town. We all sighed whenever we saw the lights of Plano, because we knew that Daddy could find his way home from there. In another thirty minutes, we would finally be able to go to the bathroom and hop into bed. A thirty minute drive almost always became a two hour one.

Of course, my siblings and I teased my Daddy mercilessly about his tendency to wind up in Plano. We started asking, “Daddy, when are we going to be in Plano?” We knew if we reached Plano it was another thirty minutes. This infuriated Daddy, but it was our job and we did it well.

These days I have a little more sympathy for my Daddy’s bad driving. You see, I have begun “channeling” my Daddy in a very eerie way.

It’s not that I won’t stop to ask directions — I don’t have a problem at all with stopping at a convenience store (especially because by the time I do stop I usually have to go to the bathroom). No, my difficulty is that I have almost as much navigational skill as a box of rocks.

I don’t know North from South from East from West. I can stare directly at the sun, and know the time of day, but it doesn’t help me at all. Don’t tell me to “turn west” or to “turn at Such and Such Road,” because my eyesight is so poor that I can’t read the roadsigns. I need bigger landmarks, and I only understand directions like, “Turn left at the Dairy Queen.” I only can do that if I’m holding one of those rocks in my left hand … so I know my left from my right.

I travel so much that some friends have suggested that I get a GPS system. However, if I had to listen to some sultry woman’s voice telling me what to do, I’d probably start an argument with her — just like I do with the automated “checker” at the grocery store. I’d wind up arrested for littering when I threw the dadgum thing out the window.

Even though I am well aware of the fact that I don’t navigate well, I’m lured by “The Scenic Route.” The last three times I have gone to a town west of Denton (and I only know that it’s “west,” because somebody told me) I have fallen prey to that lure.

As I’m driving on the country highways, I see a road that looks like it should go the right direction. I take it, and of course it is “as twisted as a dog’s hind leg,” as Mamaw used to say. Suddenly, I’m totally lost. However, I don’t eventually wind up in Plano like Daddy did (because that’s “east,” I’m told). I wind up in the tiny town of Rhome, Texas.

But, hey! I know my way home from there, and it’s only another thirty minutes before I can go to the bathroom and plop into bed.

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Post tags: bad drivers, Daddy, GPS systems, humor, Plano Texas, Rhome Texas, Talkin' 'bout Texas

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Coordinating a summer camp for children with special needs, such as Camp Sanguinity, is an enormous task. Donations have to be obtained to run the operation. Volunteers must be found and trained to run the camp. Activities have to be designed and planned to fit into a schedule that will meet the needs of children who might tire easily. Entertainers must be hired, meals planned, craft supplies must be procured, and operations must be in place for the possibility of medical emergency. I’m sure I haven’t covered half of it.

For months ahead of schedule, there are continuous meetings with staff, volunteers and the board of directors to make sure everything runs smoothly. I understand all of those things.

I also know that The Good Medicine Project was, in the scheme of things, a very small part of that planning. As momentous as it seemed to me (and to some of you), this sharing of love and encouragement from around the world was not a major part of the plan.

My disappointing news is that The Good Medicine Project seems to have “fallen through the cracks.” Last year, with the Share A Square program, I was able to show you pictures of the delivery of the afghans. I was able to give you visual proof that your hard work was appreciated — that the children were thrilled to receive their gifts of love from you. I won’t get to do that this year.

For weeks, I tried in vain to reach my contact person at Camp Sanguinity. I had three crucial bits of information that I needed:

1. I had to know the ages and genders of the children signed up for the camp, so that I could choose appropriate medicine bags and charms for them. Face it — a bag that might be wonderful for a five year old boy might not be considered “cool” by a thirteen year old.
2. I needed to know when we might be able to deliver them, so I could plan our vacation week around it.
3. I had offered my storytelling services as a program for the children during the delivery (a program that any other group would pay $600 to have me perform). I needed to know how many programs they wanted, and the ages of the children I would see so I could plan stories that would entertain and inspire them.

My contact person was always unavailable, I always got a promise that she would call back, but she never did. On the 30th of June, I finally received an e-mail with the breakdown of the children’s ages and genders. With it was a promise that I would receive an e-mail “tomorrow” with the time for delivery. “Tomorrow” never came.

Last Friday, July 3rd, I called to reach my contact but she was “unavailable.” The week-long camp starts on July 5th, and I still didn’t know when they would allow me to deliver the medicine bags. With the holiday weekend approaching, and the possibility that all the contact people would be out of the office for a week, I had no choice.

I took the 140 medicine bags, filled with lucky charms, to Cook Children’s Medical Center and delivered them to the director of the program. She was apologetic, explaining that she had “dropped the ball.” I did not argue with her on that point.

I gave her the medicine bags with instructions on how they were divided, and extracted from her the promise of a picture, so I could prove to you that your work was delivered. I asked her to write a note to acknowledge your hard work. To date, none of the directors of the camp have contacted me to tell me how much they appreciate the work you have done, although the children last year all wrote thank you notes. In the end, they are the only ones who matter.

We’ll wait to see if she follows through with her promise. The medicine bags should be delivered to the children by their camp counselors this week.

Meanwhile, let me tell all of the volunteers for The Good Medicine Project and for Share A Square that you rock! In the last two years, more than 500 people from around the country and the world have donated their time and talents to the children at Camp Sanguinity. A conservative estimate of the amount of volunteer hours put into this would exceed 10,000 hours.

You “done good,” as my Daddy used to say.

For those of you who are asking what I’ve got planned for Camp Sanguinity for next year, I have to say –– not a thing. I’d love to support the children, but I won’t go through this frustration again. I’ve toyed with the idea of finding another camp to benefit from our efforts, but this year’s disappointment has taken the starch out of me for awhile. Let’s just wait and see what mischief I might plan next.

I have a handful of thank you notes left to write. In my craft room, there are a few extra medicine bags and still some extra afghans. Although I had intended to donate them to Cooks Children’s Medical Center for the kids who didn’t get to go to camp, I’m looking for another hospital who might benefit from them. As for now, the chapter is closed on this particular book.

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Post tags: Camp Sanguinity, Good Medicine, kids with cancer, medicine bags, Share A Square

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The rooms at the old Texas Tourist Camp are empty now; the cabins closed their doors to travelers back in the 1970s. The once bustling highway in front of it doesn’t get much traffic since the Interstate Highway was routed around the other side of town.

The Texas Tourist Camp

As I walked around to take these pictures, I could almost hear the echoes of the laughter of traveler’s from long ago.

Emty Room at the Texas Tourist Camp

Though it seems forlorn these days, back in its heyday in the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s, this was a popular roadside stop in my neck of the woods. Back in 1927, a man by the name of C. F. Boydston built a gas station and a wooden shed on a former feed lot. He allowed travelers to camp for the night and build fires. Later he added three cabins with garages. By 1935, he had added more cabins and a “lunchroom” and he spruced the place up by siding all the wooden buildings with locally quarried petrified wood and stone.

The lunchroom was a big hit with travelers, and the train often stopped to let hungry passengers grab a bite to eat there. Some claim that Bonnie and Clyde once stayed here, although everysmall town in north Texas boasts that those two outlaws visited. Why in Thunder anyone wants to brag that they were a hangout for murdering thieves, I couldn’t tell you.

This camp is nestled on the side of Business Hwy 287 outside of Decatur, Texas. If you happen down that road, you can blink and miss it — if you didn’t see that petrified wood gas station (which stopped selling gasoline back in 1989) and The Whistle Stop Cafe (which is the re-incarnation of the old lunchroom).

Petrified Wood Gas Station

The Whistle Stop Cafe

I’d read about The Whistle Stop Cafe in my Texas Monthly Magazine, where it was listed in the Top 40 best small town cafes. Indeed, I ate there, but I made a mistake. I ordered the lunch special, and I should know better than to do that. It was roast beef, and obviously it had been sitting on the stove long enough to get dry, so they stirred it up with some gravy. Although it was tasty it wasn’t what I had envisioned, and I could feel my arteries clogging as I ate. The buttermilk pie that I had for dessert was divine, but I was extremely disappointed that the restaurant didn’t capitalize on their name and offer fried green tomatoes. Perhaps the owners don’t read Fannie Flagg novels?

Oh, yes, I’ll eat there again someday. But, I’ll be ordering that hamburger that the fella next to me ordered. I tell you what, I looked at that longingly as he wolfed it down. Sure, it’s still full of cholesterol, but it looked wonderful. If you go there at lunchtime, be aware that it is a very popular local hangout. Also be aware that The Whistle Stop Cafe (located at 904 S. Business U.S. 287; phone: 940-627-7785) isn’t open on weekends — no matter what Texas Monthly tells you. I don’t want you to find that out the hard way.

If you make a trip to Decatur, there are plenty of other places to explore in the downtown area. I’ll tell you more on another go around.

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Post tags: Decatur Texas, My Neck Of The Woods, Prairies and Lakes, restaurant, roadside attractions, Texas Travel, Whistle Stop Cafe

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On a hot, lazy Sunday afternoon, I plopped on the bed to watch television. I would have liked to exercise, because I’m carrying ten pounds that I want to lose. But, it was too darned hot to move (in the winter, my excuse is that it’s too cold). Although I wanted to work on organizing my house, I just didn’t know where to start. It would have been nice to work on a few blog posts, so I wouldn’t have to rush during the week, but I was too drained to think. My yard needs work, but I’d get a heat stroke out there.

I’m pretty good with excuses, aren’t you? Most of mine revolve around being old, and tired, and full of no coffee.

As luck would have it, the television was tuned to the local PBS station, and I didn’t have the remote control near me. Changing channels would have required moving, so I watched Wayne Dyer. His program was entitled, “Excuses Begone!” Hmmm.

Don’t you just hate it when the Universe has that kind of synchronicity?

In the course of the program, Dr. Dyer brought to the stage a young man named Dan Caro. When Dan was only two years old, he was burned over seventy percent of his body. Because of those burns, he lost his right hand, most of his left hand and is severely scarred. With the help of doctors at the Shriners Hospital, Dan survived, and at thirty years old, he lives a full and active life. He recounted that it took him seven years just to develop the strength and coordination to be able to tie his own shoes. I don’t know about you, but me? I would have settled for Velcro!

That Dan Caro survived his injuries at all is a miracle … but wait … there’s more.

Dan decided to become a musician! That’s right. He had a passion for music, and decided not to let anything get in his way. At the age of twelve, he strapped drumsticks to his arms and over the course of the next few years became quite talented. In fact, in the New Orleans area, Dan is a well known and well respected musician who drums for many of the jazz greats. He is also writing an inspirational book and is a keynote speaker. But, that young man is a darned good drummer.

You don’t believe me? See for yourself.

Dan had plenty of EXCELLENT excuses for just sitting back and not doing anything with his life. But, he didn’t take the easy road. He is the “good” that I want to share on this Only The Good Friday.

Suddenly my excuses seem so lame.

What’s good in your world today? Leave me a comment, or tell me that you wrote a post, so I can add you to the blogroll. Y’all have a happy and safe 4th of July weekend, and when you get a chance please visit some of my friends who also post about “the good” on Fridays.
RV Poetry; Candid Karina; All My Great, or Not So Great Adventures; Inside Mo’s Mind; Thorne’s World; Down River Drivel; Duward Discussion; Ramblings of an Unstable Mind; Insightful Nana; Newbie Lifeline; Everyday Tarot; West of Mars; Life’s Journey; A Letter To Me; Round Circle; Barbara’s Travels; Blog of Revelation; Desert Diva; Blogjem

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Post tags: Dan Caro, Excuses Begone, motivation, Only The Good Friday, optimism, synchronicity, Wayne Dyer

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