My old Uncle Mort is nothing if not analytical, even when he’s not even looking for ways to make easy bucks. He called recently to provide his analysis of members of the Thicket Community Church whose pastor called for a special mid-week prayer session appealing for rain. It would be at high noon on the church lawn.
I have lived in this house for over forty years. During that time, I have rearranged and reassigned and removed so many pieces of furniture that one would think I’d eventually come up with the right plan. However, it doesn’t seem to work that way.
Texas voters overwhelmingly approved two proposed amendments on Saturday that will provide property tax relief to homeowners.
Whew! How ‘bout them triple digits?
In all the years I’ve known my aged Uncle Mort, he has made few observations about horses, if any at all. For the past few days, he has spoken of little else, what with the news that the City of Dallas hardly knows what to do with one of its storied landmarks.
My daughter told me the other day that she has started meditating every evening. It seems that she has greatly benefited from this experience. My first thought was, “How does she have time?” She has two children aged three and eight.
My mom is special. She once walked away from a purchase of a stuffed animal kitty toy because the clerk was rude. She never made any “normal” meals; we had Chop Suey, Beef Stroganoff, lasagna, and spaghetti. (Some may think spaghetti is normal, but not my mom’s; hers was homemade and the best in the world.) Once, she almost stepped up on a horse, but at the last moment thought better of it and descended the stairs we had built. Once, when I was four, she made me get out of the car in the parking lot and direct her out of her space. Another time, she was Peppermint Patty in a play; I hung on her every word, during every performance. She would have gone to school and fought my battles, but she let me instead.
Craig Murphy, a wellknown Fort Worth country music vocalist, has found his niche after trying several other pursuits that turned out to be short-lived. He’s certified in both law enforcement and auto mechanics, but his interest in both fields flagged quickly.
The other morning when it was minus four degrees, I couldn’t believe the calendar. It said it was April… almost May, and someone left the air conditioner set on summertime. The floor was cold, the fans were blowing in their summer-time downward mode. I was dressed in my lightweight, fifteen-year-old gown which had nothing to do with warmth. I was covered, but my chill-bumps showed through the cotton. It was cold.
Here it is! The week every senior and every 8th grader has been waiting for! It’s graduation week! Now what?
