The Emotion of Food

 Attraction, addiction, dislike, love, our relationship with food can often be a bit complicated. I enjoy food. I love to seek out new recipes, shop for and prepare meals whether it is just for myself, family or guests. I do enjoy a good meal. I love when I find a new recipe that is scrumptious and I can add it to my collection. I have quite the collection of cookbooks, many were my grandmother's dating back to the 1940's and 50's. I seem to come home with old ones that I pick-up at estate sales or thrift shops. I even occasionally will buy one new. In this digital age though I turn weekly to Pinterest to seek out new ideas or to browse the recipe collection I have amassed. Food for me is an emotion. The joy it brings when everyone loves what I prepared, or the sadness when they opt to pass on eating what I made. I get frustrated when a recipe doesn't turn out the way I expected and the meal is a disappointment. 

I plan meals for an entire week before I go do my shopping. I am always planning what I am going to make next. I rarely eat out, partially due to the expense but also as I am too often disappointed in the quality of the food. I do my best to eat very healthy meals. I avoid processed foods. I eat a mostly plant-based diet but not exclusively. I do like a bit of dairy, eggs, fish and occasional meat. I try to stick to whole grain breads, pastas and brown rice. I add fruit to my salads and my lunch. I love soups that I make from scratch. I always have several varieties of soup in my freezer year-round. I will make a big pot and then freeze individual portions to take for lunch or when I need a quick dinner. I really spend too much time thinking about food. So how did this relationship with food come to be?

My Mother knew how to cook, but it was the food she grew up on. Meat (often fried) potatoes and a veg or two. Her favorite seasonings were salt, pepper and bacon grease. Saturday night was Hamburger night. They were served with potato chips and home-made dip and we each got a bottle of Coke or Dr. Pepper. This was the only time we were allowed a soda. My favorite food as a child was pasta. Spaghetti, Mac & cheese, Ravioli or rice dishes. My mom only cooked any of these on rare occasions. I would beg for her to make spaghetti. I loved it. She would only make it a few times a year. I would sometimes get fed canned Chef-Boy-r-dee spaghetti at my grandparents, but it wasn't what I craved. I was just never a big meat eater, I didn't really like mashed potatoes (my mom's were lumpy) and there were very few vegetables I would eat. I liked corn, black eye peas and pinto beans. I didn't like much else. I despised green beans, they were my Mother's favorite. She thought if she forced me to eat them I would grow to like them. I did not. I still gag at the thought of them. It was the only vegetable that she never quit forcing me to eat. To this day it is the only I will not eat. I will eat most others, there are a few I'm not crazy about, but if they are prepared certain ways I will eat them. I don't go out of my way to pick them off my plate. If I dine out I make sure that they do not put green beans on my plate. My mom did over time get more adventurous with her cooking by the time I was in high school. Her and my dad both had to limit salt and cut down on cholesterol laden foods. She discovered herbs, spices. and garlic. The bacon grease became a thing of the past. 

Once I had my own family I tried to be more creative. I wanted to expose them to a variety of cuisines and flavors. Dinner was a family affair. We did not eat until everyone was home and we could gather around the table in the dining room. Dinner was when we talked about our day. Our only set meal each week was spaghetti on Wednesday night. We often dined out on Friday nights and Saturdays were often, but not always hamburgers. But we would mix it up and maybe have tacos or fajitas. I would encourage the kids to try what I prepared, but I would never force them to eat something they knew they did not like. I would not prepare alternatives for them though. It was eat what I made or starve. Trust me they did not starve. All my kids grew up to be adventurous eaters and cooks. In the early 90's we as a family decided to go vegetarian. We stuck to it for three to four years, but after my marriage ended we all eventually drifted back into a diet that included meat. I never ate as much meat though as I had prior to the vegetarian diet as I had several new meatless favorites. When Abate and Fantu joined the family our evening schedules became quite hectic due to a continuous schedule of sports activities. I was also mostly parenting on my own as Alan was always on the road. It was hard to get everyone together at the same time to eat. I often found that picking up dinner on the way home after a game was the best option. I did my best though to continue to cook a variety of food to expand their tastes. 

This past year I found I was not enjoying eating red meat or chicken very much. I felt better when I was eating a more plant based diet. So I made the decision to alternate weeks. Strictly plant based one week and the following week if I wanted meat I would include some in my meals. As the months passed I found I rarely eat meat now as I just no longer have an appetite for it. I do eat fish most weeks. I feel better than I have in years. This diet along with a daily exercise routine including yoga has changed my life. I am slimmer and fitter than I have been in nearly thirty years. I am discovering new recipes and cuisines all the time as I search for new vegetarian meal ideas. I discovered Korean cooking and love the spiciness of cooking with Gochujang. I have ventured into other Asian cuisines, some Middle Eastern, and Mediterranean meals. I also love curries and seek those out.  I have grown to love spicy foods. 

Is food also an emotion? Maybe not but it sure creates a variety of feelings. 

     Buddha Bowl with Gochujang Crispy Tofu - A summertime Favorite

Strength

 Recently at work in a conversation about women that are very emotional, cry easily or have trouble dealing with all the crap that life throws at us, it was mentioned by a co-worker that I was a very strong (emotionally) woman. I suppose I am, but I have had times that I struggled to cope with events beyond my control. I also I learned to be strong because of those same events. It is that strength that allows me to find happiness in my life now and the courage to chase after the goals and dream I have. I find that I still have to sometimes look deep inside myself for that strength to keep going when life tries to pull me down. Facing the day to day obstacles on my own can at times be challenging. It was easier when I had a partner to share those days with. So, where did this strength come from? 

Looking back on my childhood I was a pretty headstrong, stubborn little girl. I was confident. I learned early on being the youngest of four I had to stand up for myself to not get drowned out or beaten down. I also learned independence at a young age. Living in a small town I was able to run errands for my Mom by the time I as four years old. The town was also so small everyone knew each other, so I never met a stranger. 

By the time I started Middle School I was very small for my age. I was getting bullied, and my confidence hit rock bottom. I dressed to blend in and not stand out. I soon realized though that I could make a change. I talked my Mom into making me new clothes, I changed how I wore my hair and I became confident again. I soon had good friends and the bullying mostly stopped. When I was bullied I stood up for myself. I found a new strength to go with my confidence. I have always held on to that and never let it waiver. 

Teen years brought the usual heartbreaks that would knock me down. I did most of the heartbreaking though. I can only recall one really tough break-up. It was hard and it really knocked me on my butt. It took awhile to get back up from it. A few break-ups just pissed me off. Dumb guys doing stupid things. There were also the relationships that just ran their course and by the time we parted ways there weren't any feelings left. 

When my first marriage ended I was numb. I had never thought that Steve would be a man that would have an affair. I honestly don't think I ever shed a tear. I was terrified though of life without him. I did not know how to start over. He talked for months about separating. He openly was seeing this other woman and would then come home to me and get into bed next to me. I woke up one day and was just done with it. I had booked a flight to Ireland to get away for a few months to get my head around what I would need to do to move on. I had to finish up my job and then I would leave. For the last few weeks I slept on the couch, since he wouldn't leave. Once I left, I did not see him again until seven years later when our son Trevor died. 

Trevor's death tested my strength. I told myself on the day he died that I would not let this destroy me. It would be one of the most tragic heartbreaking things to happen to me but I would get through it. I cried a river of tears that first year. I knew that I would be happy again. That even though his life had ended, mine had not and neither had my daughters. I pulled on whatever strength I had each day. I survived. I found a way to be happy. I found joy in living. I still miss him 22 years later. I still shed an occasional tear. I more often now just remember the fun times and the joy he brought into my life. To survive the death of a child creates a strength that is a super-power. 

Years later I needed that super-power when my marriage to Alan fell apart. I barely held it together. One night I almost didn't. That super strength kicked in though. I stood up to him. I imagined a path forward. I made the life I am now living. 

I am a strong woman. I had to be to get to where I am now and to get to where I want to be. 

STRENGTH! 

Summertime Blues

 Summer, when did I start to hate you? The seemingly unending heat, humidity, and often drought. With it just getting started I find that with each passing week I spend more time indoors. I get out before 8:00 am to mow, trim and do any gardening that needs to be done. Hiking is either a memory or a future plan. I am miserable. I find myself getting depressed. It hasn't helped that work is very boring, the days pass slowly. I would much rather be in the mountains, if I was retired - I probably would be. There was a time though that the heat didn't drive me indoors. 

When I was a small child I played outside most of the time. To beat the heat we would play in the sprinkler  or just with the water hose. Our house in Tom Bean had a window unit a/c and we would come stand in front of it to cool down. The few years in New Jersey was the same. It was not as hot there though as it was in Texas. My best friend Cathy had a small pool that we did get to jump into to cool off. We mostly just rode our bikes. Vacations were often trips to Colorado. The mountains are great in the summer. We lived outside on those trips. Once we moved to Austin I spent more time indoors as there just wasn't much to do in our neighborhood. My friend that lived next door wasn't allowed outside while her parents were at work so we had to hang out in her house. We occasionally went to the city pool for a few hours. I loved summer though. No school, just the freedom to play and hang out and know that a road trip for a week or two was always a fun escape. I would also spend time at my grandparents houses for a few weeks. At my Mom's parent's I'd help in the garden, pick and eat plums and peaches from their trees. Oh and my cousins and I played in the garden, with the collection of Tonka trucks. We also were always catching Horned Toads (lizards). They were abundant back in the 1960's. My Dad's parents home was in Dallas and didn't have much outside space. The highlight to staying there was going to work with my granddad at the Lakewood theater. Watching the movies from the projectionist booth was the best! We also got free popcorn from the concession stand. That is one of my happiest memories from my childhood. 

Summers with my own kids were always fun. I was so lucky to be home with my older three. Trips to the pool (before we put our own pool in), yearly vacations much like I had as a child. They too spent time with grandparents. Summers were fun and I looked forward to the kids being off school. I wish I could have spent more time in the summer with Abate and Fantu, but we did take some great trips each year. 

At my age now I really prefer to travel while school is in session so I don't have to compete with crowds, families and kids. It makes for long boring summers though. I do have a trip planned to go see Abate in Corpus Christi, but a Tropical Storm is now in the forecast and may put a damper on that trip.  

I 'll hibernate for the next few months and just keep working on my plans for my Autumn hiking trip to Colorado. I'll dream of the cool mountain air or reminisce of summers long past to survive another brutal Texas summer. 

White Water Rafting with Abate and Fantu

Caleb, Fantu and Myself... Monarch Pass

That's me 1963, Cabin near Decker, Colorado

Furry Companions

 My two little runt mutts Enya and Uisce (ish-ka') are my companions that are with me daily. They are both small under 14 pounds  and are total opposites to each other. Their names even reflect that - Enya means little fire, and Uisce is Irish for water. Enya loves everyone she meets. All she asks for is a good ear scratching and she'll be your friend for life. She was a rescue so I've never been sure of her age. She was fun, playful and energetic when I got her  seven years ago and she was that way for several years. She contracted a nasty virus three years ago that left her with poor vision and some motor issues. She walks with an awkward gait and needs her food in small little pieces. She is still a love and very friendly. Uisce is a total introvert. She shies away from almost everyone. She even has trouble making eye contact with me. She loves to hide under blankets back in my bedroom most of the time. She does come out for belly rubs and to eat. But the one thing Uisce loves is to go hiking with me. She is great on the trails for such a little runt, but can easily keep up on a five mile hike. She doesn't like when we meet other people on the trail though and gets very nervous if they have big dogs. She'll hide behind me until they pass. 

These two are many in a long line of pets I have had over my lifetime. Some were family pets we had growing up. We usually had both cats and dogs. I have not had cats though in twenty-five years. I still like them. But they just don't fit into my current lifestyle. 

The first pet I remember us having was when I was a preschooler. We lived in a small town in North Texas - Tom Bean, pop. 365. Our house was on the southern edge of town - which isn't saying much as the town wasn't all that big. We had a German Shepherd named Princess. She was kept outside on a chain with a doghouse (this is something I have never done with my own pets). I never really got to play with her, but I would visit with her and pet her. She was a lovely, sweet dog. But sadly the reason she sticks in my memory so strong, is not because of  her life but her death. She slipped out of her collar and wandered off to the farm behind our house. the farmer had a aggressive bull (we were never allowed on his side of the fence) and the bull gored poor princess severely but she was able to make it home. Her injuries were too serious and there wasn't a vet in our town. When my Dad got home he had to take his rifle out and shoot her. To this day I still hear the sound of that shot. I remember crying. 

I talked to my Dad about it just a few years before he passed. I told him about how I just couldn't forget the sound of the gun, knowing that he had to shoot Princess. He confided that it was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. My dad could look strong (emotionally) but he had such a soft side that he rarely showed. 

After Princess my Mom got a dachshund puppy from her brother's dogs litter, she named him Schatzi. That began my Mom's love affair with the breed. She had 5 additional Dachshunds up till she died. I liked her dogs okay, but I was never a fan of the breed as they can be a bit aggressive towards cats and other small animals. My Dad got himself a Weimaraner. He had dreams of taking him hunting and being a sportsman's dog...  well my Dad never hunted or went fishing ( except maybe the odd vacation trip every 5 years) so the Dog went out on a chain with a doghouse where he remained until my Mom gave him to the A/C repairman that fell in love with him. My Dad wasn't impressed, but I knew that the dog would have a better home. 

When I was around 10 years old my sister got a Blue Point Siamese cat, a male named Rama. So about a year later I got a female one named Sahaya Shawn - But I just called her Shawn. This was my first pet that I could call my own. She was a constant companion, and was always by my side when I was home. She would often even neglect her liter of kittens leaving Rama to care for them so she could be with me. The second I would walk in the door from school she would jump onto my shoulder and remain perched there or in my lap if I sat down. She didn't live but about six years and died before I graduated high school. 

I had many more cats over the years, Bob an orange tabby, Maggie a solid black beauty, Angel that gave birth to Moo and Ivy. Angel didn't stick around but Moo and Ivy were two of the best cats ever. They were mostly raised by my Cocker Spaniel - Scarlett (more on her shortly). Moo was more like a dog than a cat. Very friendly, loved attention, never met a stranger. Ivy his sister was a one person cat... mine. But she loved to climb to the highest perch she could and just watch everyone come and go. The house was always full of kids by this time and she would sit on top of the kitchen cabinets where she had a view of all the exterior doors. She came down to eat and to sleep curled up next to me at night. The last cat I ever owned was while I lived in Ireland. Shiner, a solid black male cat. He was a fun cat, but he fell in with a rough bunch of feral cats that lived around us and he started getting a bit wild himself. He contracted feline leukemia and did not live much longer. that was the last cat I had. 

Dogs have been my choice for years now. I'll just make a list. otherwise this chapter might turn into a book.

1. Beau, a beautiful Springer Spaniel. We got him when Trevor was a baby. They both loved to play in the mud, get into the dishwasher, they were quite the pair. Beau became an escape artist though and after several bailouts from the pound we decided he needed a home that could provide a more secure yard.

2. Jenny, a Chesapeake Bay Retriever. She was great at retrieving. She unfortunately slipped out of the yard and immediately  ran into the path of an oncoming car. We did not get another dog until we moved to a new house.

3. Scarlett, a rescued red Cocker Spaniel. What a great, loving family dog. Even the neighbors adored her. She was the surrogate mom to Moo and Ivy. We only had her about three years before she died of cancer. The cats and I all mourned the loss. 

4 & 5. Dalmatians - We had really bad luck with this breed loosing both to different illnesses in a short time. 

6. Hudson, a Kuvasz - which is a very large Hungarian breed. Bred to be guard dogs. He looked like a polar bear. He was smart and very protective of the family. He just got a bit too protective and bit a few people. I found him a home on a ranch west of Austin. He lived a good life and sired several liters of puppies. No I did not get one. 

7. Since I had always missed Scarlett I got another Cocker Spaniel... Oh this one was dumb. She was totally untrainable. I think she was brain damaged. Cute as she could be, but she would not leave the cats alone. I found her a new home after only six months. 

8. It was at this point I became active in the Greyhound Rescue group. I adopted my own large brindle male. He was an odd one but so well behaved and loyal to me. His name was Kenosha (yes he was from Kenosha Wisconsin). I also fostered numerous other greyhounds during this time. I was not able to take him to Ireland when I moved and my ex (Steve) wasn't willing to give him the attention he needed. Steve returned him to the Greyhound group for them to find him a new home. If I had taken him to Ireland he would have been quarantined for six months. I don't think he would have survived being in a kennel for that length of time. I hated that I had to leave him, but it was the better choice.

So as you can see I did not have great luck with dogs up to this point. My luck would soon change.

9. Darby - A spunky West Highland White Terrier. Alan got him for me right around the time we got married. He surprised me with him. I thought at first it was a little stuffed toy. Then he blinked at me and I was in love! Darby was confidence and attitude. He was cuddles and snuggles. He was tough. He was the alpha of the pack He lived for fourteen years. He moved house and continents with us. He was still here when Abate and Fantu joined the family. He played with Shiner the cat when he was a puppy. He grew old with the other dogs that joined our pack. 

10. Capone - The most amazing German Shepherd. I could write a book about his antics. He joined us about a year or so after Darby did. What a pair they were. Inseparable, mischievous, comedic. As a puppy he loved to sit in the shower... not with it turned on, he just would sit in the shower stall and look up at the shower head. When he got big enough to climb into the bathtub, he would sleep there. He did love baths and soon learned that if he got wet and muddy he would get a bath. So he would head straight to the tub when he came into the house. At night he slept under our bed. He was ready for bed at 9:00 pm every night and would head up the stairs even if we didn't. If we came up and woke him up later  he would grumble and moan like an old man giving out about it. He was a very vocal dog and one could easily have conversations with him. The one thing that always amazed me about him is he always knew when it was Christmas morning. 364 days of the year he would come downstairs and go straight to the backdoor to go outside. On Christmas morning he would go straight to the door to the sitting room and wait to go in and open his present. Then he would go outside. Him and Darby watched the movie "The Incredible Journey" in its entirety one Christmas morning. They sat right in front of the tv and watched that movie about the two dogs and a cat that get separated from their family and journey hundreds of miles to get home. I've never seen dogs watch tv so intently. Capone had one bad habit and that was trying to eat dirty clothes with a penchant for undies. This sadly was his undoing as it caused an intestinal blockage. Complications developed the evening before surgery was scheduled and the vet was unable to save him. We were heartbroken. 

11. Bonnie - A Jack Russell Terrier and the  runt of her litter. Bonnie was my baby girl. She joined Darby and Capone in 2000. She was a petite JRT and full of spunk. She was the most loving dog. Her and Darby would get into fights at times and neither would back down. It's a wonder they never killed each other. She loved to play with Capone. She would grab hold of him near his neck and would hold on just swing back and forth. She wasn't even the size of his head. Capone was so gentle with her though. Bonnie had a few talents. One was she had a very gentle lick and knew right where you hurt to gently lick so as to soothe the pain. She was such a deeply caring dog. Her main talent though was that (I know this sounds weird) but I swear she could see spirits. Too often especially after a family member had passed we would find her staring at what appeared to be nothing, but she was behaving as though someone was talking to her. After Trevor (my son) died there was one evening she was sitting across the room staring at the space just behind where I was sitting. She wouldn't come near me. This was odd as she was usually in my lap when I sat down. We also awoke one night and saw her sitting on the edge of the bed staring at what to us was an empty chair. Things like this happened regularly with her. I missed that about her after she passed. She lived for nearly fifteen years. We sadly had to make the decision to have her euthanized has she was in so much pain from arthritis in her leg joints, she couldn't stand to be touched or picked up it hurt her so bad. That was hard. 

12. Schindler - A gorgeous blue Weimaraner. He was a rescue and was around three years old when we got him. He joined Darby and Bonnie a  few years after we moved to Texas. He was supposed to be Alan's dog, but he quickly became mine. We had gone to a dog rescue center to see about another dog, but he wasn't going to work for us. So we decided to look around to see what other dogs they had. When I came up to Schindler he looked up at me and smiled. A big toothy grin that is rare for a dog. I knew at that moment he was the one for us.. for me. We soon realized after getting him home that he had no socialization skills. His owners had probably chained him up and left him outside his whole life (sound familiar?) . He didn't even know how to play or chase balls or toys. He was awkward.... very very awkward. He was starved for attention, often taking his paw and hitting our hands just so we would pet him. He did his best to be a lap dog like the two terriers. I often had all three laying on me as I sat in an old small recliner I had at the time. It took about a year for him to gain confidence and to feel like he was home. I was his human, he was my dog. Schindler wasn't the best dog I ever had, he wasn't the smartest, he was one of the prettiest. But he loved me like no other dog I had ever had and damn he crawled into my heart and was loved by me like no other dog I had ever had. I'll never be able to say why he was so special. He just was. He died of old age, he was around 14 years old. He died at home. He died because he was ready. I wasn't, but I would never have been. It's been seven years and I still miss him like crazy. I still shed tears of sadness. I think I know there will never be another dog in my life to replace him. And that makes me sad. 

13 - Sadie - A rescue female German Shepherd. Sadie was surrendered by her owners to the Temple Humane Society. Her leg had multiple fractures that weren't set before they healed and her tail was injured and badly infected. The shelter had grant money that paid the the surgery she needed. Her tail was amputated to a 3 inch stub, and scar tissue was removed from the fractures in her leg. They couldn't reset the breaks so she would have a permanent limp. Since I work for the City of Temple I was always having a look at the dogs available for adoption (employees get free adoptions). Week after week there she was. She as even featured one week as the pet of the week, but people were scared of any possible health issues. So I went to see her. She was sweet. She was a beautiful shepherd. Alan was really wanting one and since I still had Bonnie and now Schindler I brought her home for him. She took to him and became his dog. So much so she was jealous of me and would do things to piss me off. Since Alan worked odd hours and was often in bed by late afternoon she would sleep with him. She would sleep on my pillows. No matter how often she was scolded she would keep on doing it. She just loved doing things to annoy me. That went on for eight years. When Alan and I separated and he moved out she stayed with me. Within a few weeks she changed. She became nice towards me. She quit sleeping on my pillows. She would lay next to me on the sofa in the evenings. She became my dog. She became standoffish towards Alan when he would come over. She was pretty pissed with him I think. Her and I became good friends. She lived ten years with us, she was 13 when I knew it was time to let her go. Her leg had become to painful to bear weight and she struggled to move and get around. She had lived far longer than anyone thought she would. I love German Shepherds, but they shed, and shed, and shed. For that reason I tell myself that no - no more . It's a shame too as there are always several at the pound looking for homes.

So that brings us up to the current runt mutts. 

14. Enya - Min-pin- ?? cross rescue. She was the last remaining  non-pitbull dog left after a clear the pound free adoption event. I just felt so bad for her to have been over-looked all day (I originally walked past her earlier in the day but returned). Enya joined Sadie and Schindler (Schindler died 6 weeks later) at home. Both big dogs would just lay on the sofa and let her play with them. She also loved toys of all kinds. She was meticulous in dismembering stuffed toys. Ears, eyes, tail, front legs, back legs then pull all the stuffing out of the body. It was a bit scary how she did this repeatedly. But Enya was and is the sweetest friendliest dog. I'm glad I got her even though she wasn't the dog I had in mind when I went to adopt. 

15. Uisce - Chiweenie rescue from Temple Shelter. I got Uisce about a year after Enya. Enya really needed a playmate. She just wasn't getting enough exercise as Sadie didn't play with her much. I went to the shelter to see about an different dog, but someone had just adopted it so I had a look around and saw Uisce. She was a pretty little thing - looked like a puppy at first, but with a closer look I could tell she was a few years old. For the first six weeks her and Enya played together a lot. Then they gradually stopped. Jealousy became a problem at times as if one got attention the other demanded it too. Uisce as I stated at the start is an introvert. Taking her hiking has helped her to bond with me a bit. But she has always been more Enya's companion than anything. They have a real sisterly bond. It is mostly apparent when they go outside. 

I hope that live enough more years to add at least one more to this list. I had been telling myself that only small dogs from now on. Maybe a small spaniel, or another Jack Russell. But every time I go on the puppy websites I wonder onto the Weimaraner page. I know that is most likely what I will get, but a female. 

Our pets play such an important role in our lives. We learn responsibility from them as children. We learn unconditional love. They comfort us, provide companionship, and often comedy. My dogs get me outside and keep me moving. They warm my bed at night when it is cold. They don't care how I look or how I am dressed. They love us. We love them. They provide memories that never seem to fade. 

    

                                                        Bonnie

                                                                    Darby

                                                            Sadie - ON MY PILLOW!

                                            Schindler

                                            Enya with Schindler just before he died.

Uisce in her usual spot under a blanket. But she does love hiking!

I'll have to look through my old photos and scan them for pictures of the dogs I had before smart phones!

I hope heaven is quiet....

 Thirteen years ago today I was officially promoted to the Admin. position at the Convention Center where I work. At that time I had only been working here for six months in a "part-time" position. Little did I know when I took this job I would still be here thirteen years later Most of my predecessors only lasted a few years. It hasn't been a bad job. I have to honestly say I don't love it, but I don't hate it either. It is boring most of the time and can be a bit repetitive. I think one of the worst things is just the drive to and from here. it is thirty-seven miles and takes me 40 - 45 minutes each way. Road construction , traffic accidents can add some times an additional 30 - 45 minutes to the drive. When I started the position it was classified as an Admin 1, in 2022 I finally got bumped up to an Admin 2 as I had taken on more responsibilities over the years. I have been counting down the days to retirement for the past four years, as of today I have 19 months and 6 days remaining.  

I always find it a bit strange to be working at a Convention Center. I'm quite introverted, I hate crowds of people, and I hate loud noises. The sound of a lot of voices, loud music, the odors, well I do my best to avoid such. But I just stay in my office and try not to venture out into the halls. If it gets too bad I will put on my headphones and play some relaxing music or a Plum Village meditation. I never attend events here. I do my Monday thru Friday 8 am to 5 pm and go home.

I wasn't always introverted. I was a very friendly talkative child. Once I started school I made friends easily. I wasn't very good at sports though. I was usually picked nearly last for a team. By Junior high I was very small for my age. Seventh grade was brutal. I was picked on and bullied just because I was an easy target and well I looked super-nerdy. I really began to withdraw. I did regain some of my confidence by eighth grade and things did improve a bit. In high school I kept to a small close-knit group. I had a few boyfriends and was involved in a few clubs and extra-curricular activities. I wasn't one of the "popular" kids, but I held my own. 

As an adult I had a few friends. I tried to stay involved with activities and volunteered at the kids school. I just always felt though like I was trying to fit in.  - a bit like a square peg trying to fit into a round hole. It wasn't until I started work at the Austin American-Statesman newspaper part-time that I found a place I fit in. I loved working there and the people I worked with. But my life changed.... my first life ended and I moved on into my second life. Leaving much of that first one behind. My second life I became so wrapped up in my marriage and that relationship that I really never made time for friends. I had acquaintances, people I worked with, but didn't ever see outside of the job. I also started to see that people weren't always who you thought. I started to distrust more and more. When my son died I withdrew from the world. I needed time to recover and heal. Moving back to Texas, adopting Abate and Fantu helped. But more and more I saw that people weren't always what they seem. I was far happier on my own or just with my family. They became my focus. 

I now live alone with my two dogs. They luckily are quiet and rarely bark. I love the peacefulness of my home. I also love when my kids come and interrupt the quiet. I still don't like crowds of people and try to avoid them. I go to the gym when it is deserted. I think I love hiking so much because it is so peaceful. When I go on road trips I always want to travel west... it is quiet. Towns are few and far between. The roads are deserted. The east coast is busy, it is crowded, to me it feels noisy. Give me that lonely New Mexico back road any day and I'll be in heaven. 

                                    Me in my office....