Bird on a Wire

This owl danced for us as we walked back to Dad’s house.

Like a bird on a wire,

Like a drunk in a midnight choir,

I have tried in my way to be free.

—Leonard Cohen

Once we got moving, things went much better. The trip down to Dad’s was smooth sailing. Traffic was light, and we made really good time. We got there before noon in spite of not getting up until after I had planned on leaving. On the way down, we passed some interesting sights:

• A Christmas tree made out of old tires—painted gold and decorated
• Christmas tree made out of round bales—painted green and decorated
• Kids out playing on the street with their new toys

Dad watches the Cowboys lose.

Dad was in good health and spirits. He seemed really glad to see us and expressed how much he really likes Suna. We ate lunch at Aunt Di’s. Dad and Suna cleaned their plates. I couldn’t finish my usual order, and that is a good sign that I’m continuing to change my eating habits.

Back at the farm, we watched the Cowboys play poorly and lose. We went for a walk back to the stock tank. Once you get used to the emptiness of the countryside, you start to notice the biodiversity that is recovering now that more farms are retuning to grazing and pesticide use is declining. We saw lots of birds and got covered in floating spider webs.

AppraiserMan built a deer stand right on the property line. He and his son were watching the deer in distant field, but the animals were too comfortable where they were to come any nearer. He said that a few days before he had sighted some wild hogs walking right up to the stand. But when they got to where he had a clear shot, they scented him and ran. Too bad. They do a lot of damage to the habitat.

This is a good spot.

Photo by Suna

I had a really good time fantasizing about where I would site a house. But I will probably never build there. The local flora keep my sinuses in an uproar most of the year. Even in the winter, my sinuses were burning and my eyes were watering by the time we got home.

Photo by: Suna

Motion blur by me not stopping completely

On the way back to the house, I noticed a big fire on the horizon. We kept checking in periodically as we walked back. It continued to grow until it was truly frightening. Dad said it was 20 or so miles away, and he is a pretty good judge of distance. He has spent most of his life on that farm. When we left, we verified the distance, just for our own comfort. It was at least a few miles south of Yorktown, which is nine miles from the farm.

On the way home, I took Suna by the Christmas light display that Cuero sets up in the city park every year. She was really impressed by the community effort (each display is designed and maintained by a local business, charity, or group of individuals) it takes to put on such a display (more than a mile of individual creations) in such a small town. My favorite remains the sea monster swimming toward the paddle wheel boat, both of which are set in the lake so their lights reflect in the water.

It seems that just getting out of the house and doing something really improved our mood. This is something to remember when we start getting grumpy.

And So This Is Christmas

Who could want more for Christmas
than a big pair of shiny balls. Photo by: Suna

A very merry Christmas

And a happy New Year

Let’s hope it’s a good one

Without any fear

—John Lennon

Well, it is the best Christmas I can remember having for a long time—even if I did wake up at 04:30. I went into the media room and read until everybody else got up.

After yummy cinnamon rolls for breakfast, we opened our presents. The kids seemed pleased with the presents I got them, and I loved what they picked out for me. Beccano got me a “ My Little Cthulu” figure (like the one in the link, but red [orange]) with two little victims and an “I’m made of meat” T-shirt. TubaBoy got me a cool book that explains all of the new mystic crystals, manufactured and otherwise. Suna really out did herself. I don’t remember ever getting so many presents—not even when I was a kid. They were all little things that showed a lot of thought, which made them all better.

Big smiles are what it’s all about. Photo by: Suna

This was also the first Christmas I remember where all of the clothing I got was in the right size. X2’s parents used to buy my clothing gifts in her size, while mine bought her clothing gifts in my size. It was funny, if occasionally stressful.

Now that I know how we do Christmas in this family, I’ll do better next year.

Grateful Monday on Tuesday, Again

So thank you all: Suna, Beccano, and TubaBoy. This has been a great year because of all of you. I am so grateful that I found you all.

I’ve Got a Light

I’ve got a light and it shines in me

It shines in the eyes of a little baby

—Joyce Poley

Today was the pre-Christmas service where the adult choir backed the children’s choir. I played guitar.

The kids sang pretty well, too. You can see Suna in the background. I am well hidden.

Photo by: TubaBoy

For the most part, the children was hilarious. I won’t talk about Spoiled Brat, who tried to untie the backdrop. There were enough problems with props without her help, thank you. For one thing, the Star broke in rehearsal. I think they got it taped back together for the service.

Suna read a really cute story about the tallest boy in first grade. Beccano became a last minute donkey. All the kids—even SB—were extraordinarily cute.

All in all, the event came off well. There were laughter and tears in the audience as they watch the little ones sing and cavort. The music sounded good from the back of the stage where I hid with my guitar. And watching the little ones having fun and still being so serious was touching.

Don’t tell any one, but I think I’m actually looking forward to next year’s pageant.

The Road

Santamaria’s Muscat was excellent. This Table Red hints of smoked meat. Amazing.

When a dusty road

goes nowhere

it gives you

time to think

—Tony Curtis

Today started slowly. We slept in before getting up to pack for the trip. We left about the time R got in for his visit with the kids.

We made it to Fredericksburg about 13. We ate lunch at Chili’s. I have been hesitant to eat at Chili’s before because looks too much like a TGI Friday’s. (I didn’t link to Friday’s web site because it tries to take over your computer with excessively hostile Flash code.) But I have to admit, it was one of the best burgers I have eaten in a very long time—smokey flavor and juicy without being messy or greasy.

We stayed at a fairly new Best Western, built with an interesting Texas-rustic style. They let us check in early. So we had plenty of time to wander around all of the interesting shops downtown. We managed to buy a few extra little Christmas presents without breaking the bank.

But the best thing was stopping in at a little wine shop, Texas Vineyards and Beyond. There we met Martin Santamaria, the vintner of Santa Maria Cellars. He asked us about our taste in wine and then poured samples of several bottles. We talked about how Suna, Martin, and most craftsmen are more comfortable making things than selling them. The we bought two bottles, which he signed with “Merry Christmas.’

Actually, the best part was after the shopping. Suna said she had never been to Kerrville before—except for the Folk Festival, which is held out of town. So we drove the 22 miles to look at the town. Kerrville has become a depressingly bland town as it has “modernized.”

This is roughly the route we drove today. Not the most direct, but we had not seen this territory in a while.

Map Source: Google Maps

We drove down 16 and then took the road to Ingram. Ingram has retained much of its character. It is still a unique little town with idiosyncratic shops and sights. The we went on out toward Hunt. Not far past the Dam Store is the corner where some old friends make a living with yard furniture. I was so glad to see that the business was still there, that I pulled in to show Suna some of the things on display. We circled through the drive. As I pulled back onto the road, I saw Jack making his way toward the display on bicycle, so I pulled into the drive of the Dove’s Nest. The house where Jack and Jennifer live was named after Jack’s mother.

Once they recognized me—the new truck threw them, not to mention the fact that we fell out of the blue completely unannounced—they invited us in. We had a very pleasant chat for about an hour. Then, not wanting to impose, Suna and I headed back to Fredricksburg for dinner and a quiet evening alone.

We drank the Muscat this evening with some severe snackage; we were still mostly full from the burgers. The Muscat was a light, sweet wine, as you would expect from these grapes. It is very fruity, and I would certainly like to buy a few more bottles, if not a case.We are saving the sweet Table Red for a meal closer to Christmas. It is a really interesting blend of flavors that hints of smoked beef. I was really impressed.

The Night the Lights Went Out at Christmas

This isn’t the black dog that put out the lights. But she would if she could. The cords might be tasty.

Photo by Suna

Hear that midnight rooster crow

Well I’ll have one more before I go

But Honey, don't turn out the light

’Cause I think I’m in the mood for love tonight

—Robert Earl Keen

Last night, I came home from work hungry for my favorite Mexican restaurant. Beccano had already left to spend the night with a friend. TubaBoy and his friends had not yet arrived. So we waited.

I finally decided to call TubaBoy to find out when he and his crew would arrive. “We’re in the driveway,“ he said.

So they came in, and we left. The night was already cold and misty. I backed the truck out of the drive and turned around in the cul-de-sac.

As we pulled up to the stop sign, a large black dog appeared in the headlights. He was exploring the neighbor’s yard across from the end of our street. He jauntily approached a tree wrapped in Christmas lights and lifted his leg. As he jumped away from the tree, the lights went out.

Suna and I both laughed. “I bet he’s thinking, ‘That’s the first time a tree ever bit me!’”

Tannenbaum

Suna pauses on the way to church and the Yule Fest.

Ach Tannebaum, ach Tannebaum, du bist ein edler Zweig!

Du grünest uns den Winter, die lieben Sommerzeit.

—Melchior Franck

Yesterday, Suna, Beccano, and I bought a live tree. It is a Douglas Fir, not a real Tannen. I don’t think Tannens grow in the US. If they do, they certainly are not available in Central Texas.

This is the first time I have bought a live tree (other than rosemary) in decades. Last year, I helped Suna decorate the artificial tree she had used since the second year she was in this house. That fake tree met the dump earlier this year.

Today, we spent most of the day after church decorating the tree. After we finished that, I spent some time stringing outdoor lights on the redbud—the first time I have ever strung outdoor lights in my life. That I can remember, anyway.

I have always been fairly Scrooge-like when it comes to Christmas. Something about all those nasty people pretending to be nice for three weeks a year just turned me off. Not to mention the excess commercialization of the holiday: this year some stores were playing Christmas songs in September.

So why am I suddenly “in the spirit?”

Celebrating Yule while everyone else celebrates Christmas may have something to do with it. Trying to be a better person than the one I had become also plays a part. Finally, a generally more positive environment helps, too.

After the main service, we went to the the Yule Fest. That included lunch and a vendor fair. We were able to get a couple of Yule gifts. They won&rquo;t go under the tree. Rose would probably eat anything we left there. Besides getting the gifts, these purchases support local craftspersons and artists. They also help support the church. Everyone wins.

I’ll Fix Your Flat Tire, Merle

Suna and the Round Rock Community Choir

Well, I’ll fix your flat tire, Merle

Don’t you get your sweet country-pickin’ fingers

All covered with erl

’Cause you’re a honky, I know,

But, Merle, you’ve got soul

So I’ll fix your flat tire, Merle

—[Pure Prairie League]

Tonight was Suna’s first concert singing with the Round Rock Community Choir. I am embarrassed to link to their home page, which shows only the address of the concert—literally no useful information. The photo gallery has not been updated since 2002. Somebody, please help these poor un-communicants into the 21st century.

Getting everyone there was quite a challenge. First, Tubaboy had a debate tournament and my impression was that he would not attend with us. So I drove Beccano and Suna to the church. When we dropped Suna off, I realized I had forgotten the camera she asked me three times to remember.

So Beccano and I trouped back to the house. I ran upstairs, grabbed the camera from the coffee table, and hurried back down the stairs. As I was locking the door, Tubaboy arrived with a car load of his friends. I gave them directions to the church, and Beccano and I headed out to grab a promised Sonicburger before the concert.

We were just pulling out with our food (I planned to eat in the church parking lot to ensure that we were on time) when Tubaboy called. It seems that they had a flat tire. I got directions to where they were, which was—amazingly enough—right around the corner from the performance.

I spent the next half-hour teaching the boys how to change a flat. I think they were disappointed that I did not change the tire for them. But one of the basic tenets of instructional design is active learning. So I showed them just enough to get them started and let them go to it. They got it done and showed up at the intermission. This was after a frantic call explaining that one of the lugs had twisted off with the lug nut. I explained, “That’s why there are five of them.”

Tubaboy asked, “So we can drive it and we won’t die?”

The concert itself was very good. They performed three pieces—or maybe just one piece with three movements—before the intermission. For the first half, Beccano and I sat in the lower section of the church. We couldn’t see Suna very well. There was a mic stand just in front of her face from our perspective. The choir performed with orchestral—brass and percussion—accompaniment. The single tuba filled the big room, and the overall effect was good.

So we moved to the balcony at intermission. Tubaboy and his friends arrived shortly after the choir resumed (sans orchestra). They performed four pieces, one with flute accompanying. They would have been better served without the flute. She could not play loud enough to carry over the choir—except when she missed a note.

Then they moved to the 12 days of Christmas. It was weird hearing all this Christmas music before Thanksgiving when there was no merchandise on display. But the arrangement was unique. Each verse was done in a different musical style—ranging from Gregorian chant to John Phillip Sousa. And the choir turned pages loudly during the rests. It was very amusing.

Afterward. we went home to listen to the dogs bark.