IF YOU CAN'T BE WITH THE ONES YOU LOVE...

I cackled out loud when a cute video about "Friendsgiving" popped up on Facebook recently. When we were living overseas, we celebrated many, many of these make-do holidays, where your friends and neighbors became your family, and you threw yourself into making the holidays special with more passion than ever before, so that your kids would never feel that they were missing out on everything good by being so far away. It worked. So well, in fact, that we ended up missing those holidays when we moved back home!

Ever since we bought this Hill Country house, and all our parents passed away, we've had very quiet Christmases and Thanksgivings here with just the four of us, celebrating with our Dallas family sometime in mid-December. Then it became the six of us. Then seven with the addition of Little Goober. Then suddenly both sets of in-laws and some siblings were close by and deserved equal time. So, since we'd all be together multiple times in the coming weeks, and since our BFFs are always alone on Thanksgiving Day, we told the kids "Go spend lots of quality time with your in-laws over Thanksgiving, 'cause we have plans for a Lanford Friendsgiving Adventure!"

Yes, that's a real live longhorn that lady just climbed up on!

We met up here, at the Hyatt Lost Pines Resort near Bastrop, which is just about midway between our home and theirs in College Station.  We were just there for the day, and expected the place to be kind of dead this time of year, but that was not the case! Instead, it was jam-packed with lots of large family groups who decided to take their celebrations on the road. And what a great place to do it!

We went on-line to make lunch reservations well in advance, opting out of the huge holiday brunch buffet being held in the ballroom, and the fine dining steakhouse which, I think, only serves dinner. Instead we chose their Firewheel Cafe for 11:00. Then, around 9:30 on the morning of, we got a call from the hotel saying that particular restaurant was closing at 11, but if we came earlier we could have breakfast there. Well, that wouldn't work since by then, we just barely had time enough to get there at 11! So, instead, they switched us to their bar restaurant, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Not only was the food simple and delicious, it was actually quiet enough to have a real conversation!

Miss Paula and I split their version of a Bacon Jam Burger, and I have to say, I'd have a hard time choosing which is better, theirs or Hays City's! After lunch the guys and gals split up -- the gals to go exploring, they guys to find the perfect spot to smoke a cigar. Remember how, just recently, we had several hard freezes in a row, with temps dropping into the 20s at night? Well, this week we had this...

kids floating in the Lazy River, with gorgeous fall colors in the background. Only in Texas, right?

The River Runs Through It

The Favored Method Of Transportation Around Here

 

 

 Loved the carved totem pole on the porch of one of several golf shops/bars/cafe's on the property.

It was the perfect place to smoke a cigar. In fact, they even sell them inside!

Then we all met back up at the lodge's ice cream parlor/cafe for dessert, to complete our celebration.

Best thing about these amazing friends of ours? It's that, whenever we are with them, we somehow forget that forty years have passed, and transform into the same crazy, fun-loving goof-balls that we were when first we met. Now, that's something to be thankful for!

HOW WE MET

I went digging through the archives this morning, to find this for you. It's the first part of a story called Circle of Love, which I wrote for one of the Story Circle Network publications. I posted the entire story - which talks about the seasonality of love, and the stages a marriage goes through - here on my blog, a couple of years ago. Today I'll just post the "how we met" part, for those of you who are newcomers:

Did I ever tell you how I met my husband? When I first got to the University of Texas, I took a job in my dorm’s cafeteria. I had only been there a short time when my roommate caused a rather embarrassing incident. She was quite the head-turner, with glossy hair falling down past her tuckus. She was also very nearsighted, but too vain to wear her glasses. When going through the cafeteria line together, I had to describe the food choices to her, since she was unable to see them. One Sunday, she looked up at the guy serving us, and said in her deep, sultry voice, “Hey Gordon, that was some date we had last night.” I jabbed her with my elbow, but was ignored. She leaned forward, and dropped her voice even further. “I had a really, really good time!” “Ahhem! Pardon us please,” I said, then shoved her down the line, growling “That wasn’t Gordon numbskull, that was John!” Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw John staring at us, with a cocky grin on his face. “Well, great!”, I thought. “Another one bites the dust. That girl is irresistible!”

The oddest thing happened though. Usually, when working in the kitchen, I cleared trays that came down the conveyer belt. Suddenly I began finding little notes on them, and when I glanced out the tray-feed window, I saw that same cocky grin. The notes were fairly corny (under a bowl of peaches I found one that read “What a peachy girl!”) but I’ve always been rather fond of corn. Top it off with a mischievous grin and twinkling eyes? Well, I was a goner in no time.

JUST DO IT

I don't know about you, but the older I get, the less spontaneous I seem to be. So, when we got a call out of the blue Friday afternoon, from some long lost Mobil Oil friends, telling us they now lived on a little ranch less than two hours from here, and that they thought we should just hop in the car right then and there to head over for a visit, well, to tell you the truth, I thought they were just yanking our chains. I mean, who would do that, right? When I finally realized they were dead serious, we came to a compromise. We would head their way, but not until the following morning. Still, being someone who needs at least two weeks notice in order to get my house presentable enough for guests, I just couldn't imagine how they could be so comfortable with this impromptu visit.

Ben met us at the gate in his little golf cart to lead the way, but drove us right past their house and on to the little building they call The Lodge.

It was originally meant to be his office/man cave, but when he invited wife Debbie to help him design it, well, it turned into something altogether different.

Like us, they've lived all over the world, and made lots of friends in each place. Unlike the introverted Lanes, however, they love nothing more than having a house full of friends and family, and have turned it into such a fine art that they've ended up hosting a constant stream of visitors at this not-for-profit B&B -- one of the best we've ever stayed at!

One thing we always had in common with Ben and Debbie was a love of good food and great restaurants. I wondered how they were adjusting to life out in the country, after spending the last several years living in the heart of Houston -- a mecca for international cuisine.  Apparently, there is more available in that area than we realized. They took us to a great little place in nearby Columbus for lunch, Los Cabos Mexican Grill, where I had the best tacos al carbon that I've had since we used to go to the original Lupe's Tortillas in Houston. Afterwards, we drove around Weimar and saw their downtown area, first rate schools, and even more amazing baseball field (the smallest community to ever host a Babe Ruth World Series) then headed back to the ranch for the deluxe tour via Ben's zippy little cart.

Checking Out The Outdoor Cantina

The veggie garden and orchard are pretty awesome...

but I think my favorite spot on their place has to be this one, the back porch on the main house.

I could stay here all day!

After lots more visiting and catching up, we headed over to dinner in Schulenburg. My mind is totally boggled over the fact that a restaurant such as The Garden Co. exists amidst a great little garden center, in such a small town. Even more so by the fact that, when we drove up to it, Hubby blurted "Hey, I've been here!" Apparently his little photography group stumbled upon it when they were touring all the painted churches in the area.

Ahi Tuna Tempura

Steak with Chimichurri

The Three Amigos, Making John Think Having An Outdoor Cat Wouldn't Be So Bad

About 24 hours later, after the fabulous breakfast they'd prepared for us there in the lodge, we were back at home, wondering if it was all a dream, or if we had really had that much fun with someone we hadn't seen or talked to in years, and who, by the way, is on the opposite side of the political fence from us.

But, the thing is, everything we'd loved and enjoyed about them back when we were all young parents is still there, and we actually have a lot more in common than you would think if all you ever saw was what we posted online. So, isn't it time we stopped letting ourselves be polarized and radicalized by the media, and remember -- or relearn -- how to meet in the middle for some civil discussion?

My only real regret is that we got so busy yakking, we totally forgot to bring home all the fresh home-grown tomatoes they'd encouraged us to take. DAGNABBIT!

CIRCLE OF LOVE

Did I ever tell you how I met my husband? When I first got to the University of Texas, I took a job in my dorm’s cafeteria. I had only been there a short time when my roommate caused an embarrassing incident. She was quite the head-turner, with glossy hair falling down past her tuckus. She was also very nearsighted, but too vain to wear glasses. When going through the cafeteria line together, I had to describe the food choices to her, since she was unable to see them. One Sunday, she looked up at the guy serving us, and said in her deep, sultry voice, “Hey Gordon, that was some date we had last night.” I jabbed her with my elbow, but was ignored. She leaned forward, and dropped her voice even further. “I had a really, really good time!” “Ahhem! Pardon us please,” I said, then shoved her down the line, growling “That wasn’t Gordon you idiot, that was John!” Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw John staring at us, with a cocky grin on his face. “Well, great!”, I thought. “Another one bites the dust.”

The oddest thing happened though. Usually, when working in the kitchen, I cleared trays that came down the conveyer belt. Suddenly I began finding little notes on them, and when I glanced out the tray-feed window, I saw that same cocky grin. The notes were fairly corny (under a bowl of peaches I found one that read “What a peachy girl!”) but I’ve always been rather fond of corn. Top it off with a mischievous grin and twinkling eyes? Well, I was a goner in no time.

* * * * *

Looking back on our years together, I see a certain seasonality to the stages of a marriage. The first stage was the idyllic one - he’s wonderful, I’m wonderful, and everyone’s deliriously happy. Some call it the honeymoon stage, and for us, it truly was. John took a job overseas at the end of my junior year. Neither of us was any good at expressing our feelings, and not a word had been mentioned about marriage, so I feared this move might be the end of us. As it turned out, we happened to be superb letter writers. We made up for lost time by pouring our hearts into those letters, and soon felt closer than ever. John also discovered that adventures are better shared. We married the minute I graduated, and set off on a three year honeymoon. Since ex-pat wives weren’t allowed to take jobs in Indonesia, I spent my days turning our thatched-roof bungalow into a cozy nest, entertained his friends from my improvised kitchen, and waited with bated breath for hubby to come home each evening.

The honeymoon stage ended abruptly upon returning to Houston. Suddenly I worked 60 hour weeks, including every Saturday, expected John to share the housework, and was way too exhausted to entertain. Though the letter writing had ended when we married, our verbalization skills had yet to improve, and since we both avoided confrontation, many issues got swept under the rug.

Stage three began when our first child arrived. If you know someone who thinks a baby might help their marriage, just slap them up side the head and yell “Snap out of it!” Nothing is less likely to make things easier. Although our relationship was still strong, I knew my life was about to change dramatically, and was prepared for that. I assumed John’s life would change equally. Silly me. I think John assumed that we would go back to the honeymoon phase, now that I was no longer “working”. Silly John! His rude awakening came the first time Alexis had colic. Instead of being met by a scantily clad wife with welcoming drink in hand, he was greeted by a frazzled wife, still in her robe, who thrust the baby into his arms saying “Here - your turn!”

Stage four began when hubby awoke to discover a monstrous burden crushing him with its weight. He found himself thinking “These kids are expensive, and I’m responsible for their future. I must make more money!” As Dad became caught up in his career, Mom became caught up in raising children, and we as a couple became less caught up in one another. One day, I realized that we rarely talked of anything other than the kids. When I mentioned this to John, he replied “Well, what would we talk about? You never even read a newspaper.” Not a smart thing to say to someone who’s trying to cook, with a baby in one arm and a toddler on her ankle, while hubby sits reading his paper. It’s probably the closest I ever came to bopping him with my frying pan, and when I began to feel rather boring and unattractive. As John began spending more time overseas, I developed navy-wife-syndrome. I was expected to hold down the fort while he was away, make rules and handle emergencies, but when home, he often tossed my rules out the window.

Thankfully, we stumbled upon a gifted counselor, who gradually reeled us back in towards one another. I often wondered how anyone survived stage four without one. I guess quite a few don’t, as many friends bailed out on their marriages the minute they entered stage five (the kids-are-gone-now-what-do-we-do stage). I worried that we might have a relapse ourselves, once the last child left home, and worried again when John suggested I might move to the house where we planned to retire, ahead of him. Were we strong enough now to withstand that separation?

Over dinner last week, I looked up to find John smiling and staring intently at me. “What?”, I asked. “Oh, just thinking about how much you’ve grown and changed over the years,” he said. Suddenly I felt like the most interesting woman in the world! Whenever John leaves voicemail messages these days, they usually begin with “How’s my Treasure?”, and I’ve spent all week planning what to cook for him. Yesterday his email read “It’s very dreary in Houston, but then, every day is dreary, whenever you’re not here!” Pretty corny, huh? Then it hits me. We’ve come full circle. You might even say we’re taking a second honeymoon!

A VALENTINE STORY

Here is a little something I wrote several years ago, when I first moved to Wimberley full-time, but hubby was still working in Houston. I hope it provides encouragement for any of you who might be struggling in one of those "middle stages" of marriage.  I call it...

 THE CIRCLE OF LOVE

Did I ever tell you how I met my husband?  When I first got to the University of Texas, I took a job in my dorm’s cafeteria. I had only been there a short time when my roommate caused a rather embarrassing incident.  She was quite the head-turner, with glossy hair falling down past her tuckus.  She was also very near-sighted, but too vain to wear glasses.  When going through the cafeteria line together, I had to describe the food choices to her, since she was unable to see them.  One Sunday, she looked up at the guy serving us, and said in her deep, sultry voice, “Hey Gordon, that was some date we had last night.”  I jabbed her with my elbow, but was ignored. Dropping her voice further, she leaned forward, saying, “I had a really, really good time!”  I cleared my throat, said, “Pardon us please”, then shoved her down the line, growling “That wasn’t Gordon numbskull, that was John!”  Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw John staring at us, with a cocky grin on his face.  “Well, great!”, I thought.  “And another one bites the dust.”

  

The oddest thing happened though.  Usually, when working in the kitchen, I cleared trays that came down the conveyer belt.  Suddenly I began finding little notes on them, and when I glanced out the tray-feed window, there was that same cocky grin.  The notes were pretty corny (under a bowl of peaches I found one that read “What a peachy girl!”) but I’ve always been rather fond of corn.  Top it off with a mischievous grin and twinkling eyes?  Well, I was a goner in no time.

* * * * *

Now, looking back, I can see a sort of “seasonality” to the stages of our forty years together.  The first stage was the idyllic one - he’s wonderful, I’m wonderful, and everyone’s deliriously happy.  Some call it the honeymoon stage, and for us, it actually was.  John took a job overseas at the end of my junior year.  Neither of us was any good at expressing our feelings verbally, and not a word had been mentioned about marriage, so I feared this move might be the end of us.  As it turned out, we happened to be superb letter writers.  We made up for lost time by pouring our hearts into those letters, and soon felt closer than ever.  John also discovered that adventures are better shared. We married the minute I graduated, and set off on a three year honeymoon.  Since ex-pat wives weren’t allowed to take jobs in Indonesia, I spent my days turning our thatched-roof bungalow into a cozy nest, entertained his friends from my improvised kitchen, and waited with bated breath for hubby to come home each evening.

    

The honeymoon stage ended abruptly upon returning to Houston. Suddenly I worked 60 hour weeks, including every Saturday, expected John to share in the housework, and was way too exhausted to entertain.   Though the letter writing had ended when we married, our verbalization skills had yet to improve and, since we both tended to avoid confrontation, many issues just got swept under the rug.

Stage three began when our first child arrived. If you know someone who thinks a baby might help their marriage, just slap them and yell “Snap out of it!”  Nothing is less likely to make things easier. Although our relationship was still strong, I knew my life was about to change dramatically, and was prepared for that. I assumed John’s life would change equally.  Silly me.  I think poor John assumed that we would go back to the honeymoon phase, now that I was no longer “working.”  Silly John!  His rude awakening came the first time Alexis had colic.  Instead of coming home to a scantily clad wife with welcoming drink in hand, he was greeted by a frazzled wife, still in her robe, who thrust the baby into his arms and said, “Here - your turn!”  

Not long after child number two arrived, hubby awoke to discover a monstrous burden crushing him with its weight.  He found himself thinking, “Wow! These kids are expensive, and I’m responsible for their future. I must make more money!”  As Dad became more and more caught up in his career, Mom became caught up in raising children, and we as a couple became less and less caught up in one another.  One day, I realized that we rarely talked of anything other than the kids.  When I mentioned this to John, he replied “Well, what would we talk about?  You never even pick up a newspaper.”  Not a smart thing to say to someone who’s trying to cook, with a baby in one arm and a toddler on her ankle, while hubby sits reading his paper.  It’s probably the closest I ever came to bopping him with my frying pan, and it’s when I began to feel rather boring and unattractive. When John's job began requiring more and more overseas travel, I developed navy-wife-syndrome.  I was expected to hold down the fort while he was away, make rules and handle emergencies, but when home, he often tossed my rules right out the window.

Thankfully, we stumbled upon a gifted counselor, who gradually reeled us back in towards one another and taught us how to communicate.  I often wondered how anyone survived stage three without a counselor such as ours.  I soon realized that many don’t, upon seeing how many of our friends bailed out on their own marriages as soon as they entered stage four -- the "kids-are-gone-now-what-do-we-do" stage.   I worried that we might have a relapse ourselves, once the last child left home, and worried again when John suggested I might move on to Wimberley, where we planned to retire, ahead of him.  Were we strong enough now to withstand that separation? 

Over dinner last week, I looked up to find John smiling and staring intently at me.  “What?”, I asked.  “Oh, just thinking about how you’ve grown and changed over the years.”  Suddenly I felt like the most interesting woman in the world!  Whenever John leaves voicemail messages these days, they usually begin with “How’s my Treasure?”, and I’ve just spent hours planning what to cook for him when he arrives for the weekend.  Yesterday his email said, “It’s very dreary in Houston, but then, every day is dreary, whenever you’re not here!”  Pretty corny, huh?   Then it hits me.  We’ve come full circle.  In fact, you might say we’re taking a second honeymoon!

KINDRED SPIRITS (6/06)

Paula and Tim came to Wimberley this past weekend - at last! Each time we see them, we swear that we won't go so long between visits next time, but somehow, stuff always manages to get in the way. First their son was in the hospital, then we were involved with Alexis graduating and moving off to California, then there were weeks of activities surrounding Chase's wedding. Next thing you know, it's been eight months since we've seen them! It's always worth the wait though. The Sanfords are that one couple that you always dream about finding - the one where the two husbands enjoy hanging out with each other just as much as the two wives do. No matter how long it has been since you were last together, you pick right up where you left off, as if it were yesterday. Luckily, we met them early in our marriage, and have been able to keep the friendship going for thirty years, despite living in separate cities, and sometimes separate continents, most of that time. We met as newlyweds, while living in Bahrain. John had been sent to work off-shore, and I was left living alone in town, not knowing a word of Arabic. He often mentioned his wild and crazy roommate "Toad" in his letters, who also had a new wife from Texas. Being fairly bright fellows, they figured out that if they managed to get their two wives together, they wouldn't have to feel so guilty about leaving us to our own devices in a foreign country. It was no surprise that Paula and I hit it off right away, as we had much in common - both being non-athletic book lovers who had hardly been out of Texas and were prone towards severe motion sickness. The guys were a different story. My husband is about as quiet as they come, not much into sports, and could spend the entire day sitting in front of a computer and be perfectly happy. Tim, on the other hand, lives for sports, loves to sing and dance, hates computers, and is the center of attention in any room. Not long ago I said "Tim, something has always baffled me. You and John are so different. What was it that drew you together in the first place and made you such good friends?" He sat contemplating for a moment, then replied "Well, I guess it's because I like to talk, and John likes to listen. You might say we're a match made in heaven."

They arrived at the house just before lunch on Saturday. The men headed off to San Marcos to have lunch at the River Pub Grill, where you can sit out on the cool, covered deck and watch the rafters and "toobers" in the river below you. They also planned to pay a visit to their favorite little cigar shop on the town square. Paula and I stayed in Wimberley and had mushroom quesadillas at Juan Henry's, shopped for vintage western wear at Wall Street (it's never to late to be a cowgirl!), and when it got too hot to shop, we took the stairs that lead down between two of the shops to a great, hidden little place called Inoz's. We ordered a couple of big icy sodas, sat out on the tree-shaded terrace overlooking Cypress Creek, and caught up on news of the kids, great books we had read, and just discussed life in general. Paula, like me, enjoys reading all kinds of books, not just one genre, so we always have plenty to talk about. We both adored Under the Tuscan Sun a few years back, so I told her about the new book I had just finished, called On Mexican Time. As in both Under the Tuscan Sun and A Year in Provence, this one was about a couple who felt that something was missing from the hectic lives they were leading in the big city, and who were on a mission to find the perfect location in which to create the life of their dreams, just as John and I had been. One where they could slow down enough to hear their own thoughts. The couple in this new book finally discovered their heart's home in the small Mexican village of San Miguel de Allende, just as we found ours in Wimberley.

Mid-afternoon we headed back to the house to meet up with the hubbies. Since this happened to be the weekend for the Second Annual Lavender Festival over in Blanco, we decided to go check it out. Blanco is now known as the Lavender Capitol of Texas, thanks to National Geographic photographer Robb Kendrick and his wife Jeannie Ralston. A few years back they were in France doing a story on the lavender fields of Provence, when they realized that the terrain and climate there were much the same as in the Texas hill country. They came back to Texas, built a beautiful home near Blanco (which has been featured in several magazines), and started growing lavender. The venture was so successful that they convinced other farmers to give it a try, and now there is a plethora of lavender fields in the area - hence, the festival. Since we didn't have time to visit all of the farms that afternoon, we decided to go straight to Jeannie's new gift shop and field that had just opened up close to town. That was probably a mistake, because our husbands can get rather goofy when they are together, and they gave us a good bit of grief about the "lavender field" there. Since it was newly planted, the shrubs were all rather tiny, and because we have had a serious drought and a late cold snap, the timing of the blooms was delayed. There was not a speck of purple to be seen. Perhaps in my enthusiasm, I lead them to expect too much. Paula and I went into the gift shop to peruse all the lavender infused products, and the men wandered off to the produce stand next-door, to have a little fresh peach ice cream.

I was delighted to discover that Jeannie was actually there in the shop, and I was able to visit with her a bit. Ever since seeing pictures of their home, and reading about what they were trying to accomplish in the Hill Country, I have felt that they must be kindred spirits. When I asked why they had planted this new field and moved the gift shop, I was completely shocked to learn that they had sold their original house and fields. She said "That's what happens when you are married to someone who looks upon a house as an investment rather than a home." Well, I can understand that. My father was a home-builder and my mother loved to decorate. They were house-flippers before flipping was cool. They raised me to be the perfect wife for someone in the oil industry. Each time John came home and told me we had been transferred, instead of crying like most women I knew, I started doing a happy dance at the thought of all the new gardening and decorating projects ahead.

When I asked her what their plans were now, she said "Well, that has all changed just recently. Originally, we were going to move into our guest cottage, while we built another house. When we decided to pack the whole family up and go to Mexico to take Spanish lessons, our plans got turned upside down. We have now decided to build a home in a small town in Mexico." Remember what I said earlier about kindred spirits, and about how all the couples in my favorite books seemed to be searching for the same thing? After staring at her in shock for a moment, I suddenly blurted out "You wouldn't, by any chance, be moving to San Miguel de Allende, would you?" Her eyes widened in surprise, and she replied "Yes! What made you ask?" I grinned and said "Oh, I don't know. Just a hunch." I asked her if she had ever read a book called "On Mexican Time" and she said no, but a friend had just loaned her a copy to read. I explained that after she had read it, she would understand where my hunch had come from, and why I recognized her as a kindred spirit. After our thoroughly enjoyable visit, we wandered off to see what mischief the boys had managed to find. We rounded the corner just in time to hear John hooting with laughter as he snapped pictures of Tim, who had stepped down from the port-o-potty with a ten-foot tail of toilet paper trailing from the waist of his pants. I did mention, didn't I, that they can be very naughty when they are together? Paula and I took a sharp turn in the opposite direction, hoping that no one would realize we knew those nut jobs, only to be followed by voices calling "Baby, what's the matter? Where are you going?" On the whole, a truly wonderful day!

THOUGHTFUL THURSDAY: ISLAND VS. VILLAGE

Alexis And Her Buddy Chase

My best friend and I had our first babies three months apart. I remember one day, when they were a bit older, how we got to talkin' about why they had certain character traits, and not others.

Paula has worked in early childhood education her entire life, and feels like she must be the most highly-trained person around, what with all the seminars they are forever sending her to. That day she shared a little exercise with me, which she had done herself in one of those seminars. 

Mr. Austin Joins The Party

She had me take a piece of paper and list at least 10 or 12 qualities which I felt were important for my children to have. When I was done, she had me circle the first four or five I had listed. "See those traits in that circle? That is your child. I bet they describe Alexis to a tee, don't they? Why? Because those are where you spent most of your time and effort. Sure, it'd be nice to have a child that was neat and tidy, but there are only so many hours in a day, so you focused your energy on what was most important to you."

Know what was up towards the top of my list? Strength and independence. I needed to be sure that she could handle whatever life threw at her, even if we weren't there to help, which could explain why she was a Little Miss Bossy Pants.  With Austin I may have eased off on that, knowing he was my last baby, a boy, and had a big sister who always looked out for him. I also wanted my kids to have a great sense of humor and of adventure -- to be willing to step out of their comfort zone and experience new things. I wanted them to be kind and creative and lovers of books. They are, in fact, all of the above. They are most definitely not neat and tidy.

I've thought about those lists a lot over the years -- especially about what might have been on Paula's own list, since I never actually saw it. From the very few things we have differed about over the years, I'm guessing that "independence" was not at the top of her list. For instance, when we sent Alexis off to college without a car the first year, Paula thought we were a bit crazy. When I told her it was because we didn't want her coming home every weekend, she was pretty much sure of it.

Nope, that's not me doing the hugging. That's Alexis!

It got me to thinking about our parents and our own upbringings, and it had me wondering if this might not have something to do with being country people vs. city people?

My family has been in the big city for generations, where it was each man for himself. We were on our own as soon as we got out of high school. If you wanted to go to college, you put yourself through. My dad finished high school early, just so he could get a job and stop being a burden on his single mom. No one ever lent him a hand with anything, so why should we expect a helping hand? Once we left, moving back home just wasn't an option. Our jobs have made us very mobile, taking us away from friends and family time and time again, forcing us to learn how to tough it out alone. We are "island" people, and maybe that's why I felt the need for my kids to be so strong and independent.

In Paula's family, however, no one ever really leaves home. She comes from farmers and ranchers who grew up in a small, agriculturally based community -- where neighbors and family had to rely upon one another, because it was simply impossible for any one person to do it on their own. You might say they're "village" people -- as in "it takes a village." Sure, kids may go off to college, but it's usually somewhere close by, and they usually do come home on weekends, to help out. Daughters may marry, but if it doesn't work out, they tend to move back home. Paula's father did actually move to Houston to work, but they alternated going home to his people and to his wife's people every single weekend, and moved back home to the country the minute he was eligible to retire. Although we met Paula and Tim while living overseas, they too moved back closer to home at the first opportunity. They have never been farmers or ranchers themselves (they don't even grow houseplants!), but that homing instinct must have been genetically imprinted on them, and on their son. Everything Chase does is about family and tradition, and there's nothing our friends love more than to be needed and relied upon.

So, in the end, I guess we both got what we wanted. Paula and Tim still get to see their son almost daily, talk to him on the phone several times per day, and have created their own little village to help raise their grandson.

We see our kids almost daily too...on Facebook.

Hmmmmm. Perhaps I should have thought this through a bit more thoroughly.

WHILE THE GALS ARE AWAY...

 the boys will play!

It's shaping up to be an epic weekend. Thanks to son-in-law Nate, whose brilliant idea it was,  it started with the Lane gals (Lexi, Areej and I) heading off for a 24-hour stay at Travaasa Spa in NW Austin. Not only was it to be our first time to do a get-away together, it was also Lex's first time to be away from Little Calvin overnight, so super-epic! We met up there around 10 AM on Thursday and, since our room wouldn't be ready until later, just dropped our bags at the desk and headed off to explore. 

Lex was the only one who had been there before, having gone on their honeymoon and again on their first anniversary, so she led the way. They had me at "Hello"!

There are many different ways to enjoy Travaasa, from obstacle courses, hiking, and mechanical bull--riding (all of which she and Nate did the first times) to farm tours, cooking demos and all-out pampering. We went for the all-inclusive package which covered our room, all our meals and snacks, and gave us a credit towards spa services and special classes. First up on the agenda? A facial for Areej...

and pedicures for me and Lex...

followed by a late lunch out on a beautiful patio with a magnificent view. Everything sounded so good, we had trouble deciding what to order! Then our waitress said "You're on the all-inclusive plan, right? Why don't I just bring you smaller amounts of all those things, so you can try everything and see what you like best?" Oh my! Which is why we felt compelled to go on a hike afterwards.
 

Unfortunately, it turned out to be the world's shortest hike. We were walking single-file and about ten steps in, just to be funny, I said "Good thing Lex is leading the way. If we run across any snakes, they'll go for her first." About ten steps further, a big yellowish snake slid out from under one of those rocks, reared up, and started hissing. You have never seen three women turn tail and run back to concrete as fast as these three did. We ran like the wind! It's a good thing, too. How bad would I have felt if Lexi actually did get bit? Areej later ran into the "trail boss" fellow, and when she described the snake to him, he said it sounded like a copperhead. ACK!

So, since we had some time to kill, we joined the chocolate making class last minute.

Rolling Truffles in Toasted Sesame Seeds

A Sampling of Everything We Made

After that we had a way-too-brief float in that gorgeous infinity pool, then we were off to a craft class, where we painted cork trivets to use at home. Lexi said it looked like the perfect project for The Muses' next crafty get-together!

For dinner that evening, in their elegant dining room, we opted to sit up at the bar overlooking the kitchen, so we could see everything being prepared.

Then we went back to the pool area, carrying mugs of hot tea and the box of macarons we found in our room, to talk our little hearts out as the sun went down and the stars came out.

The next morning I was up bright and early, as usual, but didn't mind at all since I was able to grab a little pot of tea and a muffin to enjoy out on the lovely dining patio, while I finished reading a really good book called The Girl With All the Gifts - a zombie book for people who don't like zombie stuff.  By the time I'd finished the girls had joined me, and we were able to take our time over a wonderful brunch, where we again had to try more than one thing each.

Then it was time to go pack up. Areej decided to stick around a while longer, so she could go on the farm tour, but it was time for Lexi to get back to her baby -- not only because she missed him, but also because she forgot to pack her pump!

You'd think we'd be all sad because the fun was over so soon, but no. Believe it or not, the weekend is about to get even more epic. How is that possible, you ask? Well, a certain little Goober turns one year old today, and there's about to be a party goin' on!