Fathers' Day

After a long absence caused by not having anything to write about I'm back, trying to think of something to write about. Father's Day seems like a logical topic, given that it is approaching this Sunday. Unlike Mother's Day, which has been recognized as a holiday in the U.S. since 1914, Father's Day didn't become official until 1972! I think the delay was primarily due to the influence of TV sitcoms, which for decades have generally depicted fathers as insensitive, incompetent, self-centered, clueless bumblers. Ever since Father Knows Best, Andy Griffith, and Leave It To Beaver vanished from the airwaves several decades ago, fathers have been represented almost exclusively by the likes of Homer Simpson, Al Bundy and Ray Barone. We get no respect, but it doesn't really bother us, because we know that we're important in our own way, and for what we bring to the parenting game.

Speaking from my personal experiences, I have to tell you that I am probably the luckiest father in the world. My two daughters (Bethany and Kayla for those of you who know them) are about as fantastic as any two daughters could be. I look back over our 25+ years together and realize that without them my life would have been nowhere near as fun and fulfilling as it has been. From pixie-league softball - where the Indians won the world championship - through two of the most beautiful and over-budget weddings ever performed, we have had a lot of really great times together. We've taken family trips to a lot of wonderful places - including Costa Rica (twice), Canada, Uganda, London, New York City, Colorado (countless times), California, Florida - and done a lot of really fun stuff - deep sea fishing, white water rafting, Broadway theater, U.S. Open golf, Disney World, Disney Land, climbing the highest mountain in Colorado, skiing, swimming with the sting rays in the Cayman Islands, and lots of other things I can't even remember. Kayla and Bethany both graduated from ACU in four years (almost unheard of these days) and now both have their master's degrees. They've both managed to find great Christian husbands (our secret goal when we sent them to ACU) and they've become great Christian wives. When I hear of all the pain and anguish so many of my friends have gone through with their kids I almost feel guilty. With the exception of a few minor disappointments, Vicki and I have been blessed beyond belief with two truly fine daughters. We wouldn't trade them for anything or anybody.

Happy Mother's Day

Vicki in her "pre-mom" days.

As many of you know, this Sunday is Mother's Day. Although it was celebrated on a local and state level as early as the 1860's, Mother's Day was officially recognized for the first time when on May 9, 1914 President Woodrow Wilson issued a proclamation, declaring the first national Mother's Day as a day for Americans to show the flag in honor of those mothers whose sons had died while serving their country in U.S. wars.

My mother died on March 14, 1993, about eight weeks shy of her 64th birthday of May 8th. Because Mother's Day falls on the second Sunday in May, my mom's birthday occasionally fell on Mother's Day. As a kid I remember that to her Mother's Day was far more important to her than her birthday. She successfully raised four sons, who collectively managed to turn her hair completely grey by the time she was forty years old. She loved us all in spite of the torture we put her through. We loved her, too, and we miss her.

As is my custom, each year when Vicki asks me what I plan to get her for Mother's Day I tell her nothing - she's not my mother. But, she is the mother of our daughters, Bethany and Kayla, so maybe I should reconsider how I approach Mother's Day. . . maybe next year. But in the meantime I can at least reflect on the tremendous job she did raising our kids. They are both outstanding young women. They are kind, respectful of others, and compassionate. they are solid Christians. Vicki taught them to be that way. They both aspire to be mothers themselves one day. They'll be great moms. They learned all the tricks from a great role model.

You see, all Vicki ever wanted to be was a mother. Oh sure, she's a college graduate and she spent a few years "working outside the home", but that was just to kill time until she got her promotion to what she really wanted to do, or more correctly, to what she really wanted "to be." I'm an okay dad, but Vicki is an unbelievable mom. Just ask our girls. Now that they're grown up and married and living away from us it's easy to tell how much they still depend on her. They call me every week or so - maybe - usually to ask about how to fill out their W-4 form or how to strip an old piece of furniture. They call Vicki every day, and usually more than once. I don't always know what they talk about, but I know it's always important to them.

I found a good description of Vicki in Proverbs 31:10-31. It's actually a description of a good wife, but with a few minor tweaks it's also a good description of a great mom - Vicki.

A mother of noble character who can find?
She is worth far more than rubies.

Her daughters have full confidence in her
and lack nothing of value.

She brings them good, not harm,
all the days of her life.

She selects what's good for them
and works with eager hands.

She is like the merchant ships,
bringing them what they need from afar.

She gets them up for school while it is still dark;
she provides breakfast for them and encouragement for their day.

She sets about her work vigorously;
and she is always strong for her tasks.

When it snows, she has no fear for her household;
for all of them are clothed in scarlet.

She makes her daughters' beds when they forget;
and they are covered with clean sheets and comforters.

She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.

She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.

Her daughters arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her.

"Many mothers do noble things,
but she surpasses them all."

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but she fears the LORD and is to be praised.

Give her the reward she has earned,
and let her works bring her the praise and gratitude she deserves.

Happy Mother's Day Vicki!

Even if you're not my mother.

What in the World is a Neti-Pot?

Greetings friends and neighbors everywhere. It's another Friday, which means that I'm home enjoying the first day of another three-day weekend. Nothing too, too exciting to talk about today, but I have a few things to bring you up-do-date on.

First of all, I'm still sick! It's now been three weeks and I still have whatever it is I have - sinus infection, bad cold, strep throat, swine flu? I don't know exactly what I have, but I wish it would go away. I called my doctor this morning and he phoned me in another antibiotic. Apparently the last one didn't work. This one is pink, the other one was white. Let's hope pink is the answer. Over the last few weeks I have amassed quite a collection of medications, both prescription and n[Photo]on-prescription. My favorite thing by far has been the Neti-Pot - the "Nasal Saline Wash System with Gravity Method, providing Natural Relief from Allergies & Sinus Symptoms."


What it actually is is a small plastic tea-pot looking thing that you use to pour a saline solution into your nose. You put the spout of the tea-pot into one nostril, lean forward, and pour in the solution, which runs through your sinuses and come out the other nostril. It sound pretty gross, but it's really not all that bad, and it works (to some extend). I'm considering grinding up one of my antibiotic pills, mixing it into the "99% pure, preservative-free sodium chloride and sodium bicarbonate solution" and then pouring this concoction into my nose. Isn't sodium chloride itself a preservative? Hmmm . . . Well, maybe I'll give things one more day.

Take a look at this picture below that was taken behind our office building at work. I knew there were alligators in the area, but nothing like this! It looks like the most dangerous thing about working in a nuclear plant isn't the radiation after all. And I thought that the "Gator Crossing" sign next to the sidewalk was a joke.

Tonight Vicki and I and nine of our guests will be attending the annual Second Mile Mission Center dinner and auction. This is Second Mile's biggest fund raiser, and they're expecting a crowd of 400. It will be nice to hang out with my old peeps from Second Mile. I kind of miss going down there on Thursdays.

Dead Trees & Baseball Games

Go Astros!

Yesterday was a sad day at our house, more specifically in our back yard. The giant elm tree that formerly resided there has now left the building. All that remains of the once mighty 80 foot tall tree is an inglorious stump. Stump is such an ugly word - don't you think - but a stump is all we have to remember our friend, who has now gone to the big mulch factory in the sky. For those of you who hadn't heard the news, our elm tree never came back from its winter vacation. When the leaves fell off last October we had no way of knowing that they wouldn't be coming back.

Yesterday morning at around 9:00 the crew from the Lanza Tree Service showed up. After a brief introduction to the tree they got right to work taking it down. I must admit to just a little trepidation at the thought of turning over the safety of not just my house but also our next door neighbor's house to four young guys who spoke about ten words of English between them. It was a little reassuring that an English-speaking Mr. Lanza himself showed up to kick things off, but he was gone by the time the real chain-sawing excitement got underway. As a gesture of my complete confidence in them, I placed a lawn chair in the center of the back yard and sat in it all day - the perfect spot from which to watch their every move. My positioning didn't seem to bother them much. I, on the other hand, did have a few moments of mild panic during the morning and afternoon. There's just something slightly discomforting about a guy with a chain saw at the top of a huge tree that sits seven feet from your back porch yelling down to his associates in a language you don't understand just before he starts sawing and having the entire group break into laughter. However, in spite of their laughter, the boys from Lanza did a great job, and their efforts kept me interested and entertaining for most of the nine hours I spent watching them.

For the naturalists among you, the highlight of the day came when a large raccoon decided to make a break for it as the chain saw approached his lair. As you will divine from one of the pictures below, a good portion of the tree was actually hollow, providing a nice residence for Mr. Raccoon. He scurried from the hollow in the tree, raced to the ground, and then sprinted along the fence line, circumventing the entire back yard before climbing up the fence and leaping into the neighborhood beyond. I have thought since what it would have been like had someone been walking down the the sidewalk at the precise instant the large raccoon vaulted over the fence into his unsuspecting path. A 9-1-1 call would probably have been in order.

Below I have included some pictures of the tree dismantling, starting from its full altitude at the beginning and ending with its attainment of stump status. Even the stump will disappear when the crew comes back on Tuesday with the stump grinder. Good-bye Mr. Elm. We'll miss the relief your shade provided to our summer electric bills.

Here's what the tree looked like before the cutting started.

A friend to raccoons, squirrels, ducks and all shade-loving people.

Here's what it looked like just before the raccoon decided to evacuate.

This is considered a condominium for a raccoon.

Attainment of "Stump Status"

After surviving the drama of Mr. Elm's demise, we decided that an outing to watch the Astros would put us all in a better frame of mind. "All" in this case included not just Vicki and I, but also Kayla, who was in town for a job interview. From the sound of things the interview went well, but I'll let her talk about the details, which I anticipate will show up in her blog at some point in the not too distant future. Going to the game made me feel that the world had again assumed its correct positioning in the universe, because I had gotten the tickets free from a vendor at work. As I'm fairly certain most of you will recall from one of my blogs last summer, after a streak of almost 30 years, we actually bought tickets to a game while I was unemployed. It was painful, and I vowed never to do it again. Anyway, the Astros beat the Pirates 4-3 in a game that lasted only two hours and four minutes. There were fireworks after the game, and a good time was had by all. The only downside to the evening was that we didn't get one of the commemorative Astros 45-year fleece blankets that were given away to the first 10,000 fans. We'll get there earlier for the 50-year blankets.

My Blog is on Life Support

It's happening. My blog is dying. It's fallen and it can't get up. Like a delicate flower that withers if it's not tended to every day, a blog will do the same if it's not posted to on a regular basis. Today's post is a desperate effort on my part to sustain what little life remains in the waning existence of It's All Good in the Freede Hood.

First, let me give you a personal update on myself. Those of you who know me know that I don't get sick very often. However, when I do get sick I try to make it count. On Monday of this week I was driving home from work when I noticed that my right eye was watering. I attributed this to the astronomical pollen count, and figured that although I am not typically affected by seasonal allergies maybe when the pollen count reaches nine million it will make even my eyes water. On my drive into work on Tuesday morning, both eyes were watering. Before the end of the day on Tuesday my wet eyes had been joined by a headache and sore throat. By Thursday night I was as sick as I can ever remember being. On Friday morning I took the almost unprecedented step (for me) of actually going to the doctor. After looking at my throat, holding his stethoscope to my back and making me cough and then looking in my ears, Dr. Ford announced that because of the recent Health Care Reform legislation I would have to be euthanized. Although I believed him, it turns out that he was only kidding around. Once the chuckling ended he told me that I had pink-eye in both eyes, a sinus infection, and a possible case of strep throat. Other than that I was apparently the picture of health. He wrote me four prescriptions and wished me well. So, since yesterday morning I have been putting eye drops in my germ-infested eyes, spraying some type of steroid spray up my nose, and taking two other pills. I think I'm starting to feel better.

I got some quotes on removing the very large dead tree in out back yard. They ranged from $1,300 up to $2,400. I think I'll probably take the one for $1,600 for the guy who was recommended by my neighbor as "good, cheap and insured." I'll need to check to verify his insurance first to make sure that if the tree falls on my neighbor's house that I don't have to build him a new one.

This past weekend we went on our annual Easter Weekend camping trip at Pedernales State Park. We were joined, as is our custom, by the Curry and Goforth families, who have accompanied us on this trip for that last ten years or so. The weather was great, there was plenty of water in the river, and a great time was had by all. Check Kayla and Lance's Blog if you want to see pictures of the event. When we started doing this there were 14 of us - 6 parents and 8 kids. Over the years we have picked up five daughter/sons-in-law and three more kids, so our group has expanded to 22. We're up to four campsites.

Work is going well. I really like the peeps in my group. This past week was my first meeting with our CEO and it went well. The guy I replaced (he retired) left at the end of last week, so this was my first week of really being in charge. I think I'm discovering that my boss is a tad bit needy. I'm thrilled that she seems to have a great deal of confidence in me and my opinions, but not as thrilled that she seems to call or email me whenever a thought pops into her mind. I'm sure I'll get used to her style.

Yesterday I finished up on our federal income tax return for 2009. I'm happy to report that we only owe an additional $494 to the U.S. government this year. Yippee!

Dead Trees and Refinished Furniture

Well, this was an interesting weekend. It started off - as all of my three day weekends do - on Friday. A few weeks ago I had noticed some large pieces of bark that had fallen off the huge elm tree in our back yard. I thought at the time that it probably had something to do with the cold days this winter. Unfortunately, the bark just kept on falling, in larger and larger pieces. So, on Friday I had a tree doctor come out and take a look at our tree. The tree doctor was a really interesting guy. At one point as we walked around the back yard he stopped and looked at me and said "I just love working on trees." He was sincere about this. I was touched. In spite of his heartfelt love of trees, his diagnosis wasn't good. Actually, it was as bad as it could be. Our gigantic tree is dead. This is a bad thing for several reasons. Number one, the tree is about 75 feet tall and shades the entire back yard during the summer months. It's actually one of the reasons that we bought this house. Number two, it will cost a lot of money to have such a massive tree removed. Number three, not only will it be expensive to take it down, but it will also be a tricky proposition to get it down without damaging anything. It sits almost on the property line between us and our next door neighbors, between our houses and next to the fence. A mistake in the removal process could result in a destroyed fence, or worse, a destroyed back porch in the back of our house, or worser, a severely damaged house (our house), or worser still, a severely damaged house (our neighbors). Cutting it down without hitting anything will be quite a spectacle. Maybe we can sell tickets to help defray the cost. I predict that there will be multiple future blogs on this topic. Hopefully none will include pictures of crushed roofs or dismembered neighbors.

On a more positive note, Bethany and Cody dropped by for a short visit this weekend. And, oh yeah, they brought along a few pieces of furniture that needed some refinishing work. Living in an apartment it's difficult to work on refinishing projects in your garage, because of course you don't have a garage. Saturday turned out to be the perfect day to work on their furniture. It was too wet to do anything outside and it was cool enough to make the garage comfortable. We re-did the large dresser in a sea foam green and the two bedside tables in a pale yellow. When we put the new drawer pulls on, everything looked really good. And, everything was accomplished with only two trips to Home Depot! We also celebrated Bethany's birthday - which occurred last Tuesday - on Saturday night by going to dinner at The Americas restaurant in the Galleria area. If you like Latin fusion food I suggest you give this place a try. It's kind of pricey, but it's really good. Go with the pecan crusted snapper and the creme brulee. After church and lunch we loaded everything into Cody's truck and they headed back to Round Rock this afternoon. A great time was had by all.

The Road to Wadsworth

Between the months on April 2009 and January 2010 I was in a routine - the routine of the unemployed. Stay up late every night watching old movies on TV, sleep until 8:00 or so most days, take care of whatever needed to be done around the house, go to movies on their first day of release (always at the matinee price), read a book or two . . . It was a great life. However, since February 1st I have taken on a new routine - getting up at 5:00 AM like most normal people, getting in my car, and girding myself for my morning commute. My commute starts in Sugar Land and ends 75.1 miles later, eight miles east of Wadsworth, Texas on FM 521.

I considered doing a tour of my closet for this post, but instead I think I'll give you a description of my daily trip through the countryside. As I may have mentioned before, the Sugar Land to Wadsworth trip in one that passes through an assortment of not-so-big Texas towns on a collection so not-so-straight country roads, which can be particularly challenging when it's foggy (which it has been a few times lately). With the exception of the Southwest Freeway - upon which I travel for about five minutes - my commute is on three state routes (35, 36 and 60) and on a multitude of FM roads (which are farm-to-market roads for you non-Texans). The state routes are for the most part straight with an occasional curve. The FM's, however, are a totally different story. I don't know the reason, but these roads are a collection of long sweeping S-curves, most of them quite sharp. It makes for an interesting game each morning, trying to see how fast I can take each curve. If it's foggy this game is cancelled.

Okay, now that I've given you a fascinating description of the roads, let's talk a little about each of the towna along the way. Once I exit the freeway onto FM 2218 my first metropolis is Pleak Village, population 947. Pleak has almost nothing to distinguish it from anything, except a brand new Pleak Town Hall, which looks a little over sized for such a small place. Maybe it was built with stimulus funds. Oh, and there is the Happy Hour Bar.

After Pleak comes Needville, population 2607, where "Thousands live the way millions wish they could." A highlight of the trip through Needville is the electronic sign in the storage yard on the north side of town, which apparently is rented out for advertising purposes. So far it has had three messages. "Pigs for sale"; "Sissy, will you marry me"; and "Sounds good to me" (which I assume was Sissy's way of saying "yes."

South of Needville I take FM 442, which heads west. The first place on this road is the town of Boling, where a green on white sign nestled among three gas stations proudly declares "Boling Bulldogs, 1972 State AA Football Champs." I think it might just be time to come up with another claim to fame. After all, the players on the 1972 team who are still living are now old enough to be grandfathers. Hasn't there been any other sports success since 1972? As you leave the city limits of Boling there is a herd of Texas longhorns on the right side of the road, some of which have fairly impressive horns. And then there is the chicken farm, which sits inside a major bend in the road and which can be smelled from several miles away. If you're having sinus problems consider a trip to Boling for a pungent experience that is sure to clear your head.

A few miles past Boling FM 442 dead-ends into Highway 60 at the "town" of Lane City. Lane City consists of one very run down gas station that has the slowest pumps in the galaxy, which by the way do not take credit cards. You actually have to go into the store to show them your card, which they swipe on one of those old-time credit card machines that uses carbon paper.

After Lane City comes Magnet. I can't for the life of me understand why the city limit sign is even there, because other than the sign there is nothing but open pastures. There is an ancient tumbled down sign that points down a gravel road and says "Magnet Baptist Church." I've slowed down and looked down that road, but I have yet to see anything that looks like a Baptist church.

From Magnet the highway is as straight as an arrow into the big city of Bay City, population 18,000+. I take the 12th Street short-cut that swings around the northwest part of town and drops me off west of town on Highway 35. After a few miles I head south on FM 1468 for the last ten minutes of my journey. My final town in Buckeye. Buckeye is a set of railroad tracks with two odd looking igloo-shaped corrugated tin buildings, one on each side of the tracks. The final stretch of road between Buckeye and "the plant" is notable for the number of dead animals that literally litter the road. In one day I have seen deceased rabbits, skunks, deer, possums, armadillos and raccoons. I have been warned that this section is also thick with wild hogs, but I have yet to see one either dead or alive.

And so, 75.1 miles and approximately 77 minutes after it began, my commute ends. In about ten and a half hours I'll do it again, in reverse order.

TOMORROW (or whenever I next blog): Our big tree is dead!