Gratitute List

This morning in Texas, it was a crisp 47 degrees. When I went out for my daily walk, the sky was overcast with "snow" clouds and there was a brisk wind. It finally felt like Thanksgiving! We had a full day of eating and football-watching ahead of us. But before I let the day get away, I had to stop and list a few of the things I'm thankful for.

1. Life and breath
2. Health
3. A loving, faithful husband
4. An amazingly bright, handsome son
5. Family and friends, near and far
6. A warm bed
7. A cozy home
8. Food in abundance
9. The freedom to publically gather and worship as I chose
10. The freedom to pursue my dreams

One Week to Live

On Friday, Bill's immediate family flew to Kansas City to attend his aunt Trish's funeral. Friday was her 51st birthday. She died of colon and bile duct cancer. Trish and some family members got together in July to see off her son before he was deployed to Iraq. She had one bought of sickness, but felt fine otherwise and had a wonderful visit. Between then and the end of October, she was hospitalized twice, diagnosed with two types of cancer and died.

As awful as this sounds, I think this might be one of the better ways to die. All of her loved ones came to see her, to have a chance to say goodbye before she died, and she didn't have to suffer long before she finally passed away. (I don't know how much pain she was suffering before she went to the doctor; I would have to think some.) With the help of the Red Cross, even her son was able to come back from Iraq, see her once last time, and then stay to take care of things afterward.

This made me wonder, and this may become a reccurring theme depending on how many people respond to it - which is worse, to lose a loved one instantly, or to sit by helplessly and watch them suffer for months or years before they pass? I think perhaps a week is just about the right time.

So here's my real question, if you were certain to die in one week, what would you do with the next seven days? You can respond here or email me at bacooper65@btinternet.com. With your permission, I'll post the responses.

I hope this isn't too macabre. It's something we all will face, but don't really like to think about.

rethinking the blog

I've just been looking at some of the Blogs of Note and I've decided that I need to rethink my blog. It's pretty mundane and I don't think very many people are interested in reading about my life. I just saw where the author of To Do List Blog has published a book of over 5000 lists that have been sent to her by people from around the world. It's an intimate look at people's everyday lives, from buying milk to finding a soul mate.

My blog is an intimate look at my life, I suppose. It's special to me. And I hate to share my ideas that I might want to turn into a book. So, for now, I guess you'll continue to get, mundane me.

...

I'm writing late in the week because Bill and I have been away on a thoroughly adults-only long weekend. We went to Las Vegas. He gambled as much as I could tolerate, and then spent the rest of the time walking around the strip with me. We saw two shows - Mystere by Cirque du Soleil and the magic of Penn and Teller. I love their magic, but I've seen it all before. They need to work on new material. We've seen about four other Cirque shows, and while this one was fun to watch, it wasn't my favourite (oops, lapsed into British english, there). They always have unusual characters, but this one was a bit more dreamlike, actually nightmarish, and disjointed than the others. I loved the Kyoto-style drumming and the strong-men-that-move-in-slow-motion act that most all of them have. They are amazing. It's been running for years and there are others on the strip to try out if this one doesn't do it for you. I wanted to see Love, which is set to Beatles music, but I couldn't convince Bill.

Of course we indulged in the buffets, one breakfast and one dinner. We decided to sign up for the Players Club Rewards Program to see if we could accumulate enough points to get any freebies. Bill's goal was to get a free buffet. Believe it or not, in the three days that we were there, we earned enough points to have all of our meals that we ate at the hotel and charged to our room comped! And when we return, we'll get a free night in the hotel and another free buffet. Wow! That is one book idea that we kicked around - making the most of rewards programs and freebies. Don't take it! I'd be surprised if it hasn't already been written about, but I have to research to see.

Do you have a favorite program or way of getting freebies that you recommend? I'd like to hear about them.

Finally, the last night we were there, we got a notice in our room that the Frontier would be imploded at 2:30 am, so don't be alarmed by the sounds and rumbles. It was the second hotel that was built on the strip. We really wanted to stay up to see it, and if the window in our room had faced the other side of of the strip, we could have seen it from bed. But I know me better than to try to pull an all-nighter. We were awoken at 2:30 to the booms of the fireworks that preceded the demolition, and thought it was anti-climactic. Then the real explosions started. The percussions could be felt in our guts and the hotel shook when the tower fell.

The next morning we saw people in the coffee shop with shirts on that said, "I saw the implosion," who had obviously stayed up all night. I kinda wished we had. We saw it the next morning on TV. What a sight to see.

Dear, Deer

Hands up, how many of you saw one of these when you walked out your front door today? I always wanted to live in the Hill Country. So what if its in a trailer? It only takes half an hour to clean it from top to bottom, and then you can go sit outside and watch the deer. We lured them close by cutting up our Jack O'Lantern and tossing it over the fence. We definitely need to get some deer corn.

This past weekend I got even more of the great outdoors. I had the pleasure of going on a ladies retreat with my mom. The rustic camp was set on a hillside above a creek that feeds into the Frio river, one of the coldest, most beautiful rivers in Texas. It is owned by the HEB Foundation, along with about 2300 more acres. Anyone can use the campsites for FREE if you agree to leave the facilities better than you find them. It is a blessing to come to such a naturally beautiful place.

20 women with connections to Grace Lutheran Church fellowshipped, ate wonderful homemade food, and spent quiet time encountering God in nature. We even took a two-hour hike that wound through riverbeds and up hills. It was special to share the time with my mom and I came back feeling renewed - although I didn't see any deer there.

I Have Pictures!

Happy Halloween - one day late. I had to get some photos of Brendan in his zombie costume...yes zombie. It was Bill's idea to do the skaterboy with injuries, but the whole time, Brendan really wanted to be a zombie. So he ditched the skateboard and helmet at the last minute. Thankfully, all the wounds and scabs we'd made applied to both. We bought a tshirt and jeans at Goodwill for $5 and Brendan had a great time distressing them with his knee pads and a utility knife. And he carved his first pumpkin. He has newfound appreciation for the intricate carvings he tried to have me do all those years.

You gotta love that compound fracture. We broke a chicken bone in half, carved down the ends to a diagonal, stuck them on the arm with band-aids, put a stocking over them for good measure, and added a bunch of fake blood. He got lots of great comments about it. Still, he lost one piece on the walk around the neighborhood, and backtracked to try to find it, with no luck.

It was wonderful being back in a country that does Halloween in a big way. We went to the grandparent's neighborhood to trick-or-treat, and EVERYONE was out in force before it was dark. Brendan tried to wait, but he couldn't help himself. I took one shift and Bill took another. In all, we were out about an hour and Brendan got enough candy to last him til Easter - at two pieces per day.

Bill's mom says she had 126 trick-or-treaters (she counts the candy). By far, the most popular costumes were princesses for girls and pirates for boys. But there were lots of transformers and Disney character thrown in. I love it. Brendan said it was his best Halloween ever!

Hope you had a great time, too.

Morning has Broken

This morning was the type of morning that the English live for, especially after a long dreary winter; except it autumn in Texas. It was clear and cool and dry, and about 56 degrees F. It was so cool I had to pull on some track bottoms and a jacket to take Brendan to school. I didn't even break a sweat during my half-hour walk (well I got a little moist on my back). My face still turned red, but it didn't have sweat dripping off of it. This is why I love Fall in Texas.

Brendan and I spent some time in the pumpkin patch at the Methodist church we attend after Sunday service and got a photo of him, like I used to do every year. I got out of the habit when we took our RV trip around the US and when we lived in England, because I couldn't find a pumpkin patch there. Of course this one is man-made with pumpkins hauled in from another state, but we made the most of it. We spent some time looking for all the characters in A Pumpkin Named Jack. We couldn't find Lumina, or Big Max, but we did find Munchkin, Sugar and several pretty passable Jacks, none as awkward as I imagine him.

Brendan has decided that his Halloween costume this year will be a skaterboy who's had too many accidents. We've made fake wounds, scabs and scars and he and Bill are trying to make a compound fracture out of chicken bones. Happy Halloween!

Ohmygosh!

Here I was extolling the virtues of nature in my last entry, and yesterday, when I was outside - BAREFOOTED, Bill was blowing the leaves off of the patio and from under the trailer, and out crawls this... this... thing. It as huge (actually about 8 inches long)! It had huge pinchers and came at us like it meant business. EEK! I was up on the picnic bench like a stereotypical woman who's seen a mouse.

After I got over the initial ICK! factor, I wanted to capture this creature. I had never see one before and as I read about it later, I found out they're very rare, which makes me sorry that we killed it. But we couldn't have that thing crawling into the trailer!

It is a Giant Redheaded Centipede. And if ever the saying, "everything's big in Texas" applied, this was it. At first, we only saw it's prey - a giant green caterpillar that was writhing in agony. When we discovered the centipede, it crawled right over and started sucking the guts out of it's paralyzed victim. This centipede has a nasty sting. If a human is bitten, the are would swell, but go away in about three hours, according to the man that let one bite him on the finger (idiot!). Another entry said it could be fatal, especially to kids. Either way, we played it safe and kept our distance. I only hope there were no babies!

BTW - I found a picture of the fox that I talked about in the last entry. Its a gray fox. Pretty! I'll stick with him.

Wild Life

I love the fact that we live only 20 minutes away from a thriving city, yet are very much in the country. I am a country girl at heart. We moved to the country when I was about 11 years old, and was able to have my own Shetland pony, wander through fields of bluebonnet and indian paintbrushes, and take my dog, Skipper, exploring on the 35 acres of land that we owned. After our chores were done, like picking endless rows of green beans, feeding the chickens and gathering eggs, and stretching fence, we could stay out and play all day. I walk every morning just to be outside and commune with nature. I hate being couped up.

Bill, on the other hand, has an uncomfortable truce with nature. I've never seen someone who has such bad luck with creation. If a bird is going to poop on someone, it'll be Bill. I'll have to tell you the story someday about the kamakazi seagull that let loose a big one on his chest in the middle of Epcot Center. He gets bit by more mosquitoes. He is deathly afraid of bees. When we went tubing on the Medina river, he was the one that scooped the helgramites into his shorts and got pinched by their dagger-like pinchers.

For him, being in the country is about keeping nature at bay. He cuts the tall grass from around the trailer. At night, when he prefers to empty the black tank for the sake of our neighbors, he takes a flashlight to be sure no critters cross his path. And, I am thankful for this one, he sprays for ants and roaches around the entire site perimeter with the most powerful pesticide he can find at Home Depot, so they wont get in our trailer.

I was afraid he'd kill every living thing that came close, but we seem to have a nursery for reptiles in the hollow tree next to our site. A baby lizard crawled up the camping chair I was sitting on, and sunbathed on my arm for the longest time. Brendan found a tiny worm-sized snake slithering through the grass. We've found walking-sticks and preying mantises around the trailer, and more frogs than I dared to think existed anymore. So far, no horned toads, but I keep an eye out. They truly are endangered.

Our RV is parked up next to a fence. On the other side is an open field for cattle to graze on. Our neighbor puts out corn so the deer come close to feed. When we first arrived, there was a herd of three or four adults that came regularly to eat the corn, while a spotted fawn hung back in the tall grass. A racoon has ventured across on several occasions and ate the towel that Bill had under the BBQ grill to catch the drippings. I'm sure he had a tummyache after that. A cool-looking fox that I've meant to research more has been hanging around the other side of the fence. He's mostly gray with an orange neck and a black stripe running down his back and long tail. He's not scary, at least to me, except for when his eyes glow out of the darkness when we shine a flashlight at him.

Finally, we have hummingbirds zipping around the park. I've never seen so many! We put up a hummingbird feeder so we could see them better. It took a while for them to find it, but now that they know its here, they fight for it. Hummingbirds are VERY territorial. I love the fact that I now know what they sound like when they hum by. Sometimes they're too fast to see, but I know they're there when I go for my walk. And best of all, sometimes, they'll land on a branch and sit still - not for long, but long enough to get a good look at them, before another one comes along and they're off again. Soon they'll migrate to Mexico and I'll have to find another afternoon distraction.

Can you tell? I'm lovin' on nature today. I hope you'll take time to enjoy it, too.

The Votes Are In

Thank You! Thank You! Thank You! to everyone who voted for A Pumpkin Named Jack in the ABC Picture Book Competition. It was amazing to hear how the news spread like wildfire across the internet. Mostly, I appreciated all the positive, encouraging feedback I received from everyone. It definitely helps me to keep going.

Unfortunately, we didn't win. However, if the previous years are any indication, there is still hope that the story will be picked up by another publishing house. Five others who were finalist have had that happen.

Oh, well. I'm already working on another picture book idea, and I may try to enter again next year. I have to have it in by February, so I'll see if I can pull it together in that time. Also, I'm working again on Dillon and Blue, the middle-grade novel I wrote while in England. The critique group will keep me honest and working . I have to show them something new every month.

Again, thanks for warm fuzzies. Maybe someday soon, I'll be able to write and say that Jack will be published after all.

Went to the Animal Fair

The birds and the beasts were there - well, mostly chickens, sheep, and cows.

All the children in our school district had the day off on Friday for "Fair Day." We live in a rural area and so many children raise animals to show at the fair that they give everyone the day off. So we went. It was fun to show Brendan what a county fair is like in America (or at least in Texas), since we'd been to a few in England.

In England, even in the middle of July, it can be blustery cold. You park in a sheep paddock and walk around the hedge rows to get to each section of the fair. They had lots of blow-up slides, some cheesy rides and midway games. They show small animals like chickens and rabbits and sell home-baked goods, have clay pidgeon shoots and sheep-hearding demos. Not bad. The most disappointing thing is the food. They roll up in snack wagons and sell burgers and dogs and not much else.

In comparison, the county fair in Texas had more and bigger stuff. They had lots more large animals. They showed and judged and gave awards for the kids that raised them. Some kids go to college off the money they win on prize-winning steer and sheep. There was a petting barn in which we touched chicks, piglets, calves, and lambs. There were the homemade goods, both baked and handmade things like quilts that were judged. The high school bands were going wild. The midway was huge with many more rides and games. And the food! Glorious fair food! We didn't sample any because it was too hot to eat, but it was all there - funnel cakes, sausage on a stick, turkey legs, kettle corn, big sour pickles and so much more. Plus each night they put on a rodeo with barrel racing, calf roping and bull-riding, and live concerts. We didn't stay for the night activities, but I still want to see some bull-riding.

We'll have to go back next year. We made some rooky mistakes going too early. Next year, we'll stay late, go hungry and enjoy the nightlife.

Critique Groups

I have just returned from my first meeting with the San Antonio chapter of the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators and I am PUMPED! This group is so accomplished. I thought I was a big-shot being a finalist in this book contest, but one lady had just come back from the Ukraine where she shared her published book with school-kids there because her book is set there. Another has just had her second book published and is having a book signing in October. The leader of the group is a full-time jewelery-maker and write articles for Beads magazine. On, and on, and on...

This is good. It lets me see that there are people in my immediate surroundings who are making it as writers and illustrators, and inspires me to keep trying. I've signed up to be in a critique group that meets once a month, so I must produce!

We had a critique session at the meeting today, and got such good feedback, that I've good new ideas and a new direction to take Dillon and Blue that will make it more marketable, I'm sure of it! I had gotten bogged down and disappointed with the rejection letters.

Writing and illustrating can be lonely pursuits. Everything I've read says not to show rough drafts to family and friends because they'll be too kind, and immediately like it. Now I have an objective group of peers to share my ideas with, and it gives me new energy. I even met a women from Puerto Rico whom I might collaborate with on an idea that I've stored away for a year or two. She could be invaluable at filling in Hispanic traditions and cultures that I don't even pretend to know enough to write about, but would like to include in the story.

Refreshing. New vitality. I can't wait to get started!

Vote for Jack!

My picture book, A Pumpkin Named Jack, is a finalist in the nationwide 3rd Annual ABC’s Children’s Picture Book Competition. The winner is chosen by internet vote. You can help me win!

Please go to http://www.abcbookcompetition.org/ between September 16 and midnight of September 30 and vote. You can vote up to ten times from the same IP address, once per day. If you have a website or blog, add the link and instructions to vote for A Pumpkin Named Jack by Beth Cooper. Or, if you know a Kindergarten, First or Second-grade teacher or Elementary School librarian, please ask them to spread the word to their students and parents. The winner will be announced on October 8.

On the website, you will find each finalist’s story accompanied by a piece of sample artwork done by a chosen artist. In this case, I am both author and illustrator of A Pumpkin Named Jack. Scroll to the bottom of the story, click “Vote,” and follow the instructions.

This is a real opportunity for me as an unpublished author. According to The Book Connection, which sponsors the contest, only three of 12,000 manuscripts sent to publishing companies are ever published. The winner of the competition will receive a royalty contract and 1000 books to sell. If I win, I will happily come to your school or library to present the published story and sign copies.

Plugged In

While we lived in England, I subscribed to a really excellent enewsletter by Jan Fields called Children's Writers Enews, but was unable to take advantage of the online Forums or Chats because of the time difference. Now that we're back in the States, I have the chance to take advantage of them and really get plugged in again with writers around the country. No person is an island, and I don't want my ideas to get stale or run dry. I need like-minded people to inspire and encourage me.

One of the essential tools for a children's writer is the Children's Writer's and Illustrator's Market, a who's-who directory with so much information packed inside. Mine is out of date. Since Jan offered to put me in a drawing if I mentioned Kid Magazine Writers, another great source of information, I'm shamelessly promoting it here. It's a win-win situation. Go to www.kidmagwriters.com to see what I mean. There's so much to know about the business of writing for kids, not to mention the craft. Being at the right place at the right time with a well-researched plan for a good manuscript makes all the difference. Otherwise, you never get noticed.

Getting Better All the Time

While I can't say that Brendan is making any more male friends, except for the fact that he's observing them and bringing home funny stories, the females are starting to notice my handsome son.

Last week when Brendan was waiting (alone) for the first period bell to ring, a group of girls approached (they always seem to travel in packs) and asked him his name. He said, "Brendan." They said, "Cool name," and left.

I just found out that there will be a school dance on October 26, for which they need chaperones. Evidently, the girls are already angling for dates. One girl, sitting next to Brendan after school waiting in the parent pick-up line, casually mentioned that two boys had already asked her to the dance, but they were weird. She wanted someone who wasn't weird to ask her. (Hint, hint!) Today, this girl, who's name has escaped Brendan so far, asked him if he would like to go to the dance with her. He said, "I don't know."

Scintilating conversations, huh? To his credit, he didn't run away scream, "No, way!" like I half-expected he would do. But now I wonder if he's trying to figure out how to back out gracefully because he doesn't want to go to the dance or he doesn't want to go with her.

I would love to be a fly on the wall for this one. Maybe I'll volunteer just in case he decides to go. BTW - should an 11-yearl-old be taking a date to the dance?!

Moral Dilemma

Moms, sound off on this one.

Brendan is a very conscientious boy. He's especially sensitive these last few weeks because of the start of school. I could tell something was wrong after school yesterday, but he didn't let it out until this morning. The school run is his favorite time for backseat confessions. I think it's because he doesn't have to look me in the eye.

What was the problem? Brendan had graded his own paper on a History exercise. He realized after he reported his grade and the teacher had entered it into the computer that there were two other questions that should have been counted wrong. This teacher is know for being tough, even mean, and I think Brendan had just recently heard the "If you get caught cheating, you can be expelled from school" speech.

So his dilemma was whether to tell this mean lady who might chew his head off or just drop it.

UGH! What's Mom to do? Grades are a new thing to him. British school doesn't stress grades at all. This was one in-class grade, one amongst many and my first instinct was to forget about it. But he was really worried. What would you do?

Well, I didn't tell him what he should do. I just laid out his options. I told him that the honest thing to do was to tell the teacher that he'd made a mistake and take the punishment, whatever that might be. The other option was to do nothing, let it go. I have a feeling that this teacher is really not as mean as she seems. She's put on her first-week-of-school face to enforce discipline. I think that if he confessed, she'd either say it was okay and not change the grade in the system, or at worst, change the grade. Of course, I don't know the lady. She could take the hard-nose approach and say that this is strike one and if he messes up again, he'll be in trouble.

It will be interesting to see which path he takes. I have a feeling his conscience won't let him forget about it, but if he has to confess to Ms. Meanie, he may just let it be. Stay tuned.

Meet Jack

I got approval to use the image that you'll see on the competition site on my own blog. I just had to show it to you. I'm really happy with the way he turned out. He's a real character with real expression. This is not the entire image - justa teaser so you'll go to www. ABCbookcompetition.org and vote.

If I win, I'll have four more unique pumpkin characters, the farmer, his wife, his daughter, his grandson and a pig to create. I'm very excited about the possibilities, so please help make this a reality. Go vote between 16 and 30 September.

I'll remind you again as the time gets closer.

GT ROCKS!

Even though Open House is next week, we were invited to a GT meeting last night to get to know the teacher. He is awesome! I am so glad Brendan got into this class. It may be just the thing he needs to stretch his little mind. The teacher says his three rules in class are Respect, Responsibility, Reaching. He's world traveler so his emphasis will be on History and Geography, so right off the bat, Brendan has that in common with him. But his ideas for curriculum are astounding. He doesn't have a state-mandated textbook and he doesn't have to teach to the TAKS (standardized state test), so he makes it up and can be as diverse as finding clay and throwing pots, to reading Dante's inferno to building a cathedral outside with flying buttresses and clearstory windows to making tortillas.

He's very tough and demands the best. He constantly asks, "How can you take it a step further?" He hates posters, Powerpoint and shoe boxes. And he admits up front that not all kids like his style. He intentionally gives vague instructions and guides the kids to explore from there. His first assignment was to find out what a Pavlovian Reaction was and draw a cartoon about it. After last night, Brendan said, "I think I need to do my cartoon again. It was more of a rough draft. It wasn't really my best." (COOL!)

I got excited just listening to him. I wanted to ask, "Can the parents play, too?" The only thing I worry about is limited resources in this 30 ft. box. So I assured Brendan, if you get an idea, we can find the materials. There's Hobby Lobby down the street and PawPaw has a wood/workshop with anything you might want. I'm going to have to be very careful not to take over, but to support in any way I can. I can't wait!

Life After the First Day

Who knew that the first day of school would be the easy part? Kids float through the day hyped up on adrenaline. With all the new stimuli, the day is over before they know it. The hard part is getting them to go back every day after that. At least it is in our case.

Brendan seems to enjoy his classes. He looks forward to GT (gifted and talented) and Art. His teachers are pretty cool. He has three male teachers. His science teacher reminds him of his favorite teacher back in England. The only part of the day that he worries about (obsesses about) is lunch. If he didn't have that 30 minutes to himself, he'd be okay. The reason he doesn't like it is because he doesn't have any friends to eat with. That breaks my heart.

So Bill worked with him last night on a plan to make lunch go by faster. He's to eat slowly and take a magazine to read. Thankfully, I had one he was interested in about the last Harry Potter book. Maybe that will be a conversation starter in the lunchroom. Then Bill pumped him full of positive thoughts and taught him to work through his tummy aches.

I suppose I do remember the struggle we had with the days after the first day when he started at Collingtree. But the kids there were so inviting, he made friends immediately, on the first day. That was such a special place.

Here, many of the kids knew each other from Elementary, and so far, he hasn't broken into any groups. I pray for him every day, throughout the day, to find a good friend. that would make all the difference in the world.

Holding His Hand

Today was Brendan's first day of Middle school.

Brendan is the type of child who needs to prepare well in advance for change, so we've talked through the first day several times. It helped a lot that we've been to the school already for registration, a few AP placement exams and an orientation, so he knows where the cafeteria and the sixth grade wing are.

Still he started fretting about today on Friday. He woke up with a stomach ache. So we went through it again. I told him everything I'd learned from the parent orientation and he added detail to the pieces that I didn't know much about. Thankfully, he spent the night with his aunt on Saturday, which was a welcome distraction from Monday morning. Yet, when we were driving home last night, he said, "why do they throw all this stuff at us on the first day? How am I supposed to remember where my classes are, when to go to PE and my pin number for lunch?" So we assured him, again, that the teachers were there to help and would be very lenient on the first day.

Then, last night, I read to him before we went to sleep to try to calm him down. We read a devotion out of Skateboards, Scooters and Scripture by Anne McFarlane, a great book for kids, and we read the accompanying scripture passage. He settled down a little. Then I read to him from Isaiah 41:13, a passage we found from an earlier devotion, which spoke right to the situation. "For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you." With that he went to sleep.

This morning, Brendan could only manage to choke down a glass of milk for breakfast for all the butterflies in his tummy, but there were no tears. When I stopped in the drop-off lane at school, I said, "I wish I could go in with you, but I can't. Just remember God is holding your right hand." He slipped out of the car and I watched him bravely walk into his new Middle School.

It's Alive!

Once I got the great news that I could do my own artwork, I actually had to pull it off. It took about a week to do the rough draft and get it approved and another two weeks to do the final piece of 8 1/2 x 11 spec art. Gotta love the internet though. I get to keep the original safe and sound by scanning and emailing it for posting on the website. I was going to publish it on this post, so you could see it, but I don't want to do anything to jinx my chances, so you'll have to go to the contest site to see it.

I decided to do it with oil pastels instead of my trusty pencil colors because I wanted the colors to be more vibrant, since it's for a children's book. My main challenge was to create a personality for a character who has no face, so that the reader can identify with what he's feeling. After all, it's a PICTURE book. I think it turned out rather well.

I'll be sending an email to everyone I have addresses for personally asking them to vote and send the message on to others, but if you're coming to this blog by other means, please go to http://www.abcbookcompetition.org/ and vote for A Pumpkin Named Jack by Beth Cooper between September 16 and 30. If I win, I will receive a publishing contract and 1000 books to sell on my own.

According to The Book Connection, who sponsors this nationwide contest, only three out of 12,000 manuscripts that are sent to publishing companies ever gets published. It would be my very first published book and a great start to a writing/illustrating career. Then, I'll have to design and produce 16-18 double-page spreads for the rest of the book by May 08. I'm looking forward to that challenge!

Floatin' the Frio

It's sorta hard to take pictures when you're floating down a river, but I did manage to snap a few of Brendan on the rope swings down the hill from our camp. He LOVED it. Even when his arms were worn out, he wouldn't stop. We spent the one good afternoon, about three hours, floating past waterfalls, cold springs, cliffs with rope swings and deep emerald-green swimming holds. I scraped up my hip on one of the first rapids that we encountered. Everyone else was wise enough to get out and walk around. But I HAD to try it. This summer has been a great season at Concan, not to be confused with Cancun. The water has been much higher and we didn't have to scooch along on our butts.

It rained off and on for the rest of our stay. TS Erin moved northwest of us dropping nine and half inches on San Antonio. We only got a few popcorn storms. We played lots of Canasta and ate lots of good food with my folks and had a good time any way.

Now we're waiting to see what Dean will do. They're predicting that it will hit South of us in Mexico, which is good for us, but it could cause a lot more fatalities there.

Be Careful What You Ask For

Before I get started on this topic, I'll try to upload the Bermuda photos that didn't make it last time.

I have to brag on Brendan.

We went snorkeling in Bermuda - only his second time, with a company called Jesse James Tours. They picked us up in what they promised was an unsinkable Coast Guard boat, but it looked like an oversize dingy to me. Turned out to be easy to slip over the edge into the water.

Anyway, Brendan did fine at the shallow practice dive, but he was noticably nervous when we got to the outer reef to dive two ship wrecks. The water was pretty rough. Thankfully, we were given noodles to help us float and clinging to Bill's and my hand, Brendan faced his fear and won. The spot was great, and it was easier to have your head under the water than out. We saw the old paddle-wheel off of one ship and the spilled cargo of the other - bags of concrete, that made an instant paved highway on the sea floor. The fish and formations were amazing. And they threw out some kitty chow at the end to attract huge schools! We could reach out and touch the fish!

The last dive spot was the best. James called it "The Underwater Garden." I think it is one of the best dive spots we've been to, not only for the abundance and variety of fish, but for the coral formations as well. It did look like a garden. I'm glad Brendan got a chance to see it. Now he wants to conquer scuba diving.

Now - back to business.

I said in an earlier blog that there was a possibility that I might illustrate another finalist's manuscript, but as it turns out, I'm being allowed to do my OWN! I'm thrilled, and somewhat scared. I've never done a full book before, but I keep reminding myself to start with baby steps. By the end of August, I have to complete ONE piece of art. If I win, then I'll do 16-18 two-page spreads by the end of May.

So...now that I don't have a separate illustrator to drum up support from family and friends, I really need your help. If you have any pull with parents, teachers, librarians who work with 4-8 year olds, please ask them to vote - perhaps make it an event at school (?) The voting starts September 16 and runs til the 30th. The winner will be announced on October 8. If you want to see past winners (this is the third year) go to http://www.abcbookcompetition.org/ and bookmark it for September's voting!

Paradise on Earth

Bermuda is a little over 600 miles due East of North Carolina. It was discovered in 1609 when a ship that had been dispatched to help the settlers in Jamestown shipwrecked on the island. Thankfully there were enough cedar trees to build new boats and make it home and claim the island for England. The written account of the shipwreck is said to have inspired Shakespeare to write The Tempest.



During the American Revolution, Bermuda was used as England's gunpowder depot, but the Bermudians sold it all to the Americans and helped us win our independence! It was home to Britians Royal Naval Atlantic fleet until 1951.



What a great way to connect three countries.



Bermuda has the prettiest beaches and some of the best snorkeling I think I've seen anywhere, including Hawaii, the Great Barrier Reef and the Carribean. They have more shipwrecks that any other island becuase it's outlined by coral reef. We got to go see two shipwrecks on our snorkel trip - one an old paddle-wheel, carrying bottles of penicilin (sp?), one of which was brought up for us to see, the other dumped it's load of concrete sacks across the ocean floor and looked like an instant paved highway.



There is very little crime, though more than we initially anticipated after hearing about a rash of purse snatches by modpeders, because there is no unemployement (not sure how they manage that) and there is no income tax. Banks use the island for offshore shelter from taxes. We might consider living here if Bill could get a job. You can't look for one while you're there. You have to find one before you go. We hear they're in need of lawyers, bankers and teachers. We saw an ad in the paper for a global IT director for HSBC, which Bill applied for.



The hotel we stayed at was right on the water, but their beach had been washed out by hurricanes in previous years. Which was okay. We bought an unlimited bus pass and got around the island like the locals. Horseshoe Bay was just a few stops down the road. The first day we went, there were no cruiseships visiting the island, so we had the place practically to ourselves. The water is aquamarine blue and the sand is make of pink coral. It's coarsely ground, so it falls quickly to the bottom and you can see everything in the water, including huge parrot fish very close to shore. There are NO sharks, but the do have barracuda.



Every night we walked down to our non-existent beach, listened to the whistling tree frogs and watched some of the most beautiful sunsets.



We'd probably get tired of just beach, but we didn't get tired of the friendly, laid-back people and island style. They don't even where long trousers to work. They wear Bermuda shorts, long socks and dress shoes. The old folks from the cruises fit right in.



Now, I've got to finish packing for a week in Florida. We leave this afternoon to visit some friends. Our bodies are golden tan (Brendan got a little over-baked), and any stress from the move is melting away. I'm glad Bill planned all of these trips this summer. We would definitely get tired of staring at each other trapped in the trailer because of constant rain. But I am ready to settle into a routine. Brendan registers for school when we get back and then we have to buy clothes and supplies.

Home Sweet Trailer

Here it is. Our home. Spacious, huh? We got it backed in and set up for a total of two days before we packed it up again and pulled it out to go to the coast. That first weekend, I noticed that it took me twice as long to get ready in that tiny space, and I had to remember where I put everything. But over all, it's comfy enough. Behind the trailer is a field where about five deer, including a spotted fawn, come every morning begging for corn. How many people can say that?

We're at South Padre Island now. Next week, we're going to Bermuda, and Florida after that. We're not driving to either of those. By the end of the summer, we should have topped up our sun tanks, they've been depleted for three years, and have great tans, too. Brendan has enjoyed boogie boarding in the surf and I've collected some great shells with my parents. Bill finally got to use his metal detector.

Moving Day, Again!

After separating, sorting, organizing, packing, traveling thousands of miles, staying with parents for two weeks, living out of suitcases, we're almost home! Our travel trailer was finally finished yesterday. It has new tires and new carpet and all the systems work, most importantly, the air conditioning. We loaded what we've bought into it yesterday and are waiting for the air freight to arrive today to finish the work. Then Bill can finally sit back and breath a sigh of relief in his own space, for a few days, before we head to the coast.

It's all coming back to me - the two years of living and traveling in it. There were many things I enjoyed about that carefree lifestyle, but a few I didn't. It took forever to manuever around the bed to make it, hitting my head on the fan shelf and knocking my shins into the wooden base. I have to relearn how to work efficiently in that small space. I'm afraid we have way too many clothes coming, and I have to remember where I tucked all the food. Thankfully, Brendan doesn't have as many toys, but his clothes and shoes are much bigger now, and may not fit into the space it used to.

BTW - when we were backing the trailer into it's space, a park hostess drove up in a golf cart to welcome us. She said they have Sunday School every week and they're holding vacation bible school mid-July. I was a little preoccupied making sure Bill didn't back into a tree to ask, but it sounds like there might be a lot of children in the park. That would be nice for Brendan. His basketball and football should arrive today, so he can get in some practice before school starts. I always thought he was a natural at sports, but my brothers confirmed it after batting practice with Shawn and b-ball practice with Nate. He's got a good aim, and as Shawn said, "a learning spirit, willing to take instruction to improve." That could be from moving to a different country and having to relearn everthing he thought he knew and not taking anything for granted. What a great quality to have.

Gotta go. I think the movers are here!

It's Raining! It's Pouring!

We must have upset the balance of nature when we move back across the Atlantic. Usually, by this time of year, Texas is hot and dry. The grass has dried, and the landscape is mostly brown. But, since we've been back, it has rained almost every day, with no relief in sight. In England, I always complained about how I missed a good Texas thunderstorm. We've had several in the last two weeks and some great gully-washers!

If we had wanted constant rain, we could have stayed in England, which is having record rain and flood in the Midlands, too!

Thankfully, the rain has kept the temperature down some, relatively, around the high 80's. But when the sun comes out it gets steamy. I had to go buy a few more bras because I was sweating through the ones I had too fast!

The days are moving fast. We've accomplished all we wanted in anticipation of the air shipment arriving - but hasn't come yet. The travel trailer is almost complete. Bill can't wait to move in and have his own space. He's obssessed about it! I have to admit, it's not easy living out of a suitcase and mooching off of our parent's kindness, but it's a nice way to settle back in. It gives us lots of time to reconnect. Brendan is staying at my folk's house this week with his two cousins for Camp P&G (Pawpaw and Gram). They put together a full itinerary of outdoor activities and crafts, just like real camp. We stayed the weekend with my brother and his wife when we took him out. Just while we were there, we had batting practice, played croquet, made super bubble mix and giants wands to create huge bubbles, and the boys set up a shooting gallery and learned the rules of handling a bbgun. (Hey, it's Texas!) Brendan is an amazing shot! We'll pick him up when the trailer is done, so he can help decorate his corner of the camper.

As soon as we settle in, we get to test how well the RVs been overhauled. We're towing it to South Padre Island to spend the week with my parents fishing, hunting for shells, playing on the beach and trying to stay cool. It should help to kickstart our suntans for the trips to Bermuda and Floriday later in July. Our poor white skin is in shock.

For now, we're concentrated on having a fun summer. If Bill will stop obssessing, maybe we will!

Moving vs. Dying

There are a lot of similarities between dying and moving to another country. Your closest friends want to spend the last precious moments with you. You're headed to the next exciting phase of your life. And you start giving away a much stuff as possible. Unlike dying though, when someone says a beautiful eulogy, when you move, you get to hear all the nice things people have to say about you while you're still alive and to know what impact you've had in people's lives.

I hate being the center of attention. If life is a play, I'm the one building sets in the back. I like to be involved, and I'm happy to step up to the spotlight in a pinch, but it's not natural to me. But in that quiet way, I've done a lot of things and it was nice to be recognized for them. And I got better at taking the compliments as the process went on.

Special friends started saying goodbye at least a month in advance with dinners out and gifts and speeches. At first, I could only blush and say thanks. Stepping Stones was one of the hardest. The vicar's wife was so lavish with her praise. I thought she surely couldn't be talking about me. I only put together a few crafts and made photocopies. Yet it was nice to hear that I had made a contribution.

By the time we stood up at the last church service to be prayed over, I was much more composed, and pleasantly pleased to realize how many people I had come in contact with in the capacities that I served. I absolutely didn't do any of it for the recognition. I did it for God's glory. But it was nice just the same. And to hear that they'd spoken positively about how we'd impacted village and school life at the governor's meeting and a gathering at the village hall. In a way, it was good to know that we would be missed as much as we would miss them. And that their lasting impressions of those crazy Americans was a good one, not bad.

The vicar's wife told me, "I think Texas must be the friendliest, kindest place on earth, because of you." I'm glad I've represented my God, my country and my state well. And in saying goodbye, that I had the opportunity to tell people how much I cared about them and that they had impacted our lives, too. That's a good way to go. It's sort of like a living eulogy.

It made me wonder, why do we wait until the very end to tell people how much they mean to us?

Leaving Home/Going Home

"This is the last time I'll have to take out the wheely bin!" Brendan said happily to me this morning.

That is definitely a good "last". But I'm getting a bit nostalgic about leaving England, and there are some "lasts" that I'm not looking forward to. I heard the Tuesday night church bell-ringing practice for the last time. I'm going to the last Friday school awards assembly this afternoon. I had breakfast with the American ladies for the last time yesterday morning. They pilfered through my pantry and left-over electronics to see what they could use. We can't ship any food, and we can't use the British electronics in America.

I am excited about going home. I can't wait to have some concentrated family-time this summer, but it will be hard to say goodbye to friends. Mostly, I don't say goodbye, just promise to keep in touch and invite them to come visit us when we get into a house, whenever that will be.

The people we've met and the friends we've made have made all the difference in living in a foreign country. At first, it was difficult to meet people, because the British have a quiet reserve about them, and they do not take the initiative. I had to be the one to step forward and say hello. But once that was over, I made some true friends, ones that I hope to stay in touch with for the rest of my life, although I'm the worst at staying in touch.

I mentioned the American ladies. Most of them have been here longer than us. Some have already moved on. Some have gotten citizenship and British passports, so they're free to live and work throughout the EU. They alone know what it's like to uproot their families and move to England so their husbands could take a job at this company. I have treasured our Thursday breakfasts and lunches, which stretched on for hours as we compared notes about where to shop, how to overcome our British moments, raising young children, supporting our husbands, and sometimes listening to each other's moans about missing home.

Another group I'll miss is the Wednesday morning bible study group. More than anyone, these ladies have supported me and helped me grow in my faith. We've cried, and laughed, and searched together. They are so dear to me. I'll miss them.

Then, there's Grange Park Church - the livliest, noisiest, on fire bunch of people I've met. I helped design crafts for a Moms and Tots group and ran the craft stall at Kidzone, which gave me a much needed creative outlet. And I taught Sunday School for the 9 and 10-year-olds. They ask wonderful, challenging questions. I briefly helped on the building committee, which was a glorious glimpse at how God pulls together all the right people at the right place and time to make things happen. I wish them luck with their new endeavor.

I also served on the school Board of Governers, which gave me a deeper understanding and appreciation for how Church of England, Voluntary-Aided schools are run. It helped to make me comfortable with the type of education Brendan received, which I think has been top-notch. But more than anything, each governor and teacher is committed to making the school a safe, happy, accepting place, unlike any other I've seen. It will be difficult to find it's equal in the states and I will always be involved in the life of Brendan's school.

Then there are the friends I've made in the village, mostly parents of Brendans close friends - Nina, Niki and Nita, who have helped me immensely in so many ways. They are so lovely.

Bill has just arrived home from his last day of work, so I'll sign off. Pray for us and wish us luck tha the move goes smoothly and we don't lose anything this time.

One Step Closer to Publishing

Way back at Christmas, I submitted a manuscript called, A Pumpkin Named Jack, to ABC Picture Book Competition (www.bookcompetition.org). When I returned from holiday, I had an email message that said that I was one of the finalists! There were 125 entries from around the country, and they picked 12 finalists.

The next phase of the competition is online voting by any and all people I know. An illustrator (which I hope they’ll let me do) will produce a piece of art to compliment the story, and then for two weeks in September, the voting happens. The winner gets a publishing contract and 1000 books to sell at school visits, etc… It's a small competition yet, as it's only in it's third year, which means I have a much better chance of getting published than just sending the manuscript to publishing companies hoping they'll take a look at it.

I shared this story with Brendan’s schoolmates during Book Week last fall. I would love for them to see it in print.

So, stay tuned. I’ll be asking you to ask all of your family, friends and acquaintances and anyone I meet on the street to vote online soon.

UK Top Ten

I've been looking back over my journal entries from when we first moved to England three years ago. Here's an entry I particularly like. It still holds true today.

Top Ten Things We Like About England

1. Brendan’s new best mate named Ben
2. My silver Mini
3. The exchange rate when we visit America
4. Brendan’s school
5. Business trips to South Africa
6. Lots of school breaks
7. Paris, Rome, London trips
8. Cadbury chocolate
9. New friends, both American and English
10. Tuesday night church bell-ringing practice

Top Ten Things We Don’t Like About England

1. Roundabouts
2. Dark, wet winter days
3. National Health Care
4. English food
5. Small parking spaces
6. No good Mexican food
7. Missing friends and family back home
8. English football and rugby fanatics
9. Getting new movies six months after America
10. Cars stopped/parked in the road because there isn’t enough parking

My Laughing Place

Our Vicar's wife, Charlotte, is an amazing on-fire witness for Christ. She has boundless energy that she pours into children's ministry. One of the ways she keeps her energy level up is to run every morning. During her run, she meditates and sometimes she shares some of the insights that she's come away with with the rest of us -like the time a young kestral (falcon) landed in her path and she was reminded of the Psalm about mounting up on eagles wings or enjoying the quiet of the morning and remembering to "be still and know that I am God."

I'm not a runner. I walk. But I also like to meditate. Sometimes I repeat a praise song in my head. Sometimes I just enjoy the beauty of nature. My insights are not always as lofty.

Today, I was walking along the footpath frightening little bunnies. I could just see their white cottontails as they scurried into the bramble (wild blackberry bushes). And I thought, it's true, they do live in briar patches.

I doubt anyone reads Uncle Remus stories to their children anymore. It's not PC. At one time, Golden Books published a series of the stories, we had a few, but I bet they're hard to find now. I was introduced to Brer Rabbit, Brer Bear and Brer Fox at the Town Twin Drive In Theater where my family went to see the double feature of Song of the South and the Aristocats. Anyone who's been to DisneyWorld and has been on Splash Mountain, and most Brits have, knows the song. Sing it with me. "Everybody's got a laughing place, a laughing place to go-o-o. Take your frown turn it upside down, and you'll find your's I know."

For those who don't know the story, Brer Bear and Brer Fox are always trying to catch Brer Rabbit who is much more crafty and cunning than them. They fashion a person out of tar and put clothes on him calling him a "tar baby." Brer Rabbit comes across the tar baby, tries to strike up a conversation, gets angry because it won't answer and punches and kicks at it until he is completely stuck. While Brer Bear and Brer Fox contemplate the best way to do him in, Brer Rabbit pleads, "Please don't throw me in the briar patch!" And in the end, that's exactly what they do, and as I've seen, rabbits are very happy there. It's their very favourite place; the place that they live and find safety - their laughing place. Brer Rabbit yells from a distance, "I was born and raised in the briar patch."

In the movie, the person telling these stories is an ex-slave named Uncle Remus. I just did a little google research and found out it was Disney's first forray into live-action, mixed with animation, created back in 1947, before civil rights. This man lived in a shack with very few creature comforts in the midst of racism, segregation and oppression, and yet, he was able to sing, "Zippety-do-da, zippety-a; my, oh my, what a wonderful day," which is how I ended my walk. And I realized that's why I enjoy walking so much; communing with God in nature is my laughing place.

"Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say rejoice." Just like Uncle Remus.

Nothing Special

As I was walking through Castle Ashby's beautiful formal gardens with Nina (see pictures), she asked me how it would feel to leave England and return home. She's a psychiatric nurse. She's always good at starting deep, meaningful conversations. She doesn't do superficial chit chat. I'll miss that.

While I'm looking forward to going home and being surrounded by friends, it will be a bit weird, like stepping backwards. We've been through a unique experience, living in a different culture. In some ways Americans and Brits are much the same. But in others we're very different. Not many people can identify, because they haven't been through it. The few American families we've become close to here can understand, and I hope we don't lose touch with them, wherever life takes them next.

This may seem snobbish, but I can see Americans from the rest of the world's perspective now, and it's not a very pretty sight. Americans are very naive, ignorant even, and very America-centric. I can fully appreciate the concept of the "ugly American tourist." I see them in London, and in other places we've traveled to. They are sometimes overweight, garrish, loud, and expect everyone to serve them. They demand the best and can be extremely rude.

Living here has caused us to be more sensitive to other people's points of view, cultures and religions. Their agenda's are not our agendas (see I still lump myself in with Americans). The things they value are not the same things we value. They have to negotiate in peaceful ways because they live so close to other countries that what happens to their neighbor also happens to them.

They are extremely concerned about the enviroment, their bio-footprint. I have friends who chose not to own air conditioners or clothes driers or even fans (which is a little too martyr-ish, I think). They debate the pros and cons of fuel emissions and efficiency of driving with the windows rolled up and the A/C on or leaving the A/C off and rolling down the windows. they sweat more, and are a little less perfectly kept. They seem more in tune with nature.

That's not to say that they don't have their problems. Anti-social behaviour is chief among them. From my perspective there is a great decline in the traditional family. People don't get married before they have children. They might have the same partner for years, but nothing is legally binding and break-ups are frequent. Christianity has been secularized. There is no separation of church and state. They are taught Christian values in school. They get Good Friday and Easter Monday off of work, but no one observes Easter for the Christ's resurrection. And don't get me started on the undisciplined children. Bill calls groups of teens hanging around town "hoodlum" and I have to say, they frighten me because there doesn't seem to be any common, decency or respect for other people.

However moving back to the States scares me, too. Brendan is starting middle school. He has to carry a mesh or clear backpack. According to the student handbook, police can inspect lockers, they can have dogs sniff for drugs anytime during the school day. We haven't lived with guns for three years, and I have to say, even though there are cases of shootings on the news almost every night, I feel safer, because most people don't have them. You don't have to worry about someone shooting you if you accidentally cut them off on the M1.

I wonder how interested people will really be to hear about our travels when we return. They are so precious to us, but they are only vague ideas if you haven't experienced it. And after a while, we'll lose our specialness. People won't comment on our accent and ask us where we're from. They won't ask about traditions at home or what it was like to live in another country. Maybe we'll become garrish and loud and demand the best. Maybe.

But, I hope we never forget. I hope we have learned to be more careful not to offend, tread a little softer, and speak a little quieter.

Goodbye, Old Friend

That does it. We have to move back. I can't function without it.

My precious Pyrex 2-cup measure, with ML and pints on the other side, shattered in the dishwasher, and I feel like I'm cooking with one hand tied behind my back. I got the measure as a wedding gift. It has helped me through every annual turkey-gravy-making, ginger-bread-cookie-baking, special-birthday-cake-creating session I've ever done as a wife or mother. Now that it's gone, I've lost the will to bake.

I have another measuring cup, but it's seen it's better days, too. It's made of plastic. It's cracked. I can only use is for the dry ingredients because it leaks like a sieve. I also have the plastic stackable cups, but you can't very easily beat an egg or combine cornstarch and water, or boil water in them. They just don't cut it.

Thankfully, we're heading back to the states in June. I suppose I can buy a new one then. But it won't be the same. There was something special about that cup. I've had it for 19 years. 19 years! It was practically an antique. That's quite a testimony for the Pyrex company.

I hope this doesn't say anything about our marriage.

BTW - I just had to add a picture of a rapeseed field in full bloom. It's the beautiful yellow flower with the unfortunate name that they use to make oil, like sunflower. Enjoy!

The Luck of the Irish...and the Coopers

Since we'll be leaving England soon, we thought it would be a great shame not to make it to Ireland before we left. Many Brits that we've talked to have never been, which is no surprise when you find out they've never even been to London! But like most visitors we make a point to see the sights. Who know's when we'll pass this way again - especially since the exchange rate is now over $2.00 to the pound. I think we'll be limiting our holiday travel to the States for a while. (It's funny how we've started thinking in dollars again even before we move back.)

Ireland is just a short hour flight away, so we thought it would be a cheap weekend getaway. But once you add in rental car, hotel stays, food, attraction admissions - all in Euros which at least gives us a little break, I don't think there is such a thing as a cheap break.

We flew into Shannon, and drove along the scenic West Coast to see the Cliffs of Moher - a very popular photo op and to get a glimpse of the Burren - thousands of acres of limestone that resemble the surface of the moon, except for the fact that in the summer wildflowers bloom in the cracks. It was too early for flowers in April. Thanks to the White's suggestion, we stayed that night in a Hotel on Lake Derg, outside of Limerick. It had a pool and two story spiral water slide to help Brendan work off some energy after being stuck in a car all day long.

The next day, we drove South to Cork, where I thought we'd go see Blarney Castle and kiss the Blarney Stone. But, I guess Bill doesn't want me to have the gift of gab, because he and Brendan poo-pooed all over that idea. Instead, we went to a pretty harbor village called Cobh, which has a great Heritage Museum and tells the history of the Irish potato famine, emigration and the last days of the Titanic and Lusitania. (It was the last port of call on both their voyages.) I got some great material for a few articles I hope to write for a children's magazine which happens to be featuring Ireland in a issue next year. The article have to be in next month. I was struck by the stong connection between Ireland and America. So many people came to escape starvation and looking for a better life. The first person registered at Ellis Island, was a young girl named Annie Moore, who sailed from Cobh.

We finished the day on the south coast in a village called Tramore. We just drove til we got tired and found a hotel for the night. In our younger days, we traveled around Europe without making reservations, and found places to stay along the way. We're not used to winging it like that anymore, and thankfully things turned out okay. The beach stretched out to the Irish sea and was only a short walk away. The water was cold and the tide went way out, so we strolled along the sand picking up stones tumbled smooth by the waves and skipping them back in to the ocean. They had a fair operating that night, but Bill and Brendan were drawn in by the arcade. Bill won about £45 playing the slot machines!

We stayed right outside of Waterford, so the next morning we followed our noses to the Waterford Crystal factory and took a tour. They turn out beautiful, hand made crystal that I would love to own. Seeing the process from start to finish makes you appreciate the final product even more. Brendan was really impressed by the sculptural nature of working with glass. It takes 4 years as an apprentice to learn to blow the glass, another two to etch and four more to learn to carve it like stone. Wow! We didn't buy any since we'll be moving soon, but I've got their website!

After Waterford, we drove to New Ross to see an exact replica of a famine ship that brought emigrants to America called the Dunbrody. It was built and paid for by the Kennedy foundation. JFK is a hero around these parts. His great granfather sailed for America from New Ross and in about 110 years, the family went from emigrants to President. Its quite a success story.

Then we hightailed it to Dublin, as much as you can behind tractors and on single-lane roads with no shoulders. Even the N roads, which were just below Motorway status were iffy at best. The scenery was outstanding. Green pastures full of sheep and dairy cows. Rapeseed in full bloom. In the west, they use a lot of rock in building their walls, but they also have tidy hedgerows just like in England. Their mountains weren't much more than hills like those in the Texas Hillcountry, but whose complaining? With a little encouragement from Brendan and me, Bill mastered the tempermental standard transmission and touchy brakes. We didn't lose our way too many times and arrived safely on the east coast outside Dublin at the Portmarnock Hotel and golf links. (Golf is EVERYWHERE.) This hotel didn't have a pool, but who needs one when you have miles of beachline, tidepools and jagged rocks to explore and a small harbour village with lots of restaurants up the road? We had to pull Brendan away to tour Dublin.

Dublin is much smaller than we expected. We inadvertantly parked in Temple Bar, notorious for rowdy nightlife and promised ourselves to be out before sunset. BTW - temple bar comes from the Vikings who conquered the area. When they took a town, they put up a huge stone pillar (a temple bar) to let those coming after that they were there and it was safe.

We boarded the sightseeing bus to take the circuit around town, hear the commentary and get our bearings. But we couldn't understand a thing the guide was saying! We got off at the Guiness Storehouse (can you imagine Bill at a beer factory?) and took the tour through the seven-story building that told the history of the Guiness family, who the beer is made, and an exhibit of the advertising through the years. The best tidbit we learned is that the Guiness Book of World Records stems from an arguement that an employee was having at a bar with his friends (no doubt over a pint of Guiness) about which was the fastest hunting fowl. The decided that every bar should have a book of records so they keeper could settle such disputes.

At the very top, the Gravity Bar gave a 360 degree view of Dublin and a free glass of Guiness to every visitor over eighteen. I tried a tiny bit in the tasting room downstairs and opted for the soda with Bill and Brendan. The barley is roasted, so it has something like a coffee taste and the hops gives it a bitter aftertaste that stays with you far too long. (They taught us all about this in the tasting room.) They say it's an acquired taste, and I believe it.

Of all the other things to do, the Dublin Gaol, St Mechlin's church with mummies in the crypt, Dublinia - the viking exhibit, the only thing I could get the guys to agree to was a stop at the National Museum of Archeology to see the largest Viking exhibit outside of Scandinavia. When we arrived, we found out it was closed! So... we walked around the museum looking at well-preserved bog mummies and rested before walking back to the car. After terrorizing shrimp in the tidepools til the sun went down, we had Chinese takout in the hotel and watched Lost! What a way to end the trip.

It's always fun to spend time in the car with your family. It reminded me of the months we spend traveling the US - except its much easier to navigate in the States. Bill and I talked about our impending move, and all the little details we couldn't forget. Brendan studied his music book that came with the tin flute he bought as a sourvenier. Bill had told him that he wanted bagpipes and flutes to play at his funeral, and Brendan vowed to learn a tune that he would play for him.

All in all - a little stressful, but a fun adventure - one of our last in the EU, and I think we can cross Ireland off of our list.

Movin' On

We have a move date! Pack 18 & 19 June; load the container 20 June; fly home 21 June!

Last week, Bill's company confirmed in writing that they would pay for our repatriation (move back to the states). They are also paying for our flights and maybe some storage since we'll be living in the trailer for the foreseeable future. They got the ball rolling by getting the removers to come out and give us an estimate for packing and door-to-door shipping. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), we don't have home in in the states to move back to, so we're trying to pick the best/cheapest port of entry to stash our stuff. We'll have to pay for storage. We're thinking Houston.

Bill's been extremely cooperative about helping out until they find his replacement and seeing this project he's been working on through the completion. The final migration is this weekend, of course. But Easter doesn't seem to mean much to them, other than two days off - Good Friday and Easter Monday. Even they get more time off than America.

But, anyway - Bill gets three months of garden leave, in which he's not supposed to go into the office so that he can focus on finding another job, and then a severance that equals another three months-pay. However, Bill has been so great about saving that he's going to enjoy his paid time off and he's planning several trips for the summer, before Brendan has to be back for school on 27 August.

We are taking one more Med cruise that gives us a day in Egypt, which was one of our big things to do while we were here. We hadn't gone so far because every time we thought about it, another bomb exploded in a tourist spot. This way, we're in and out in one day, with armed guards, which only gives us the tiniest glimpse, but how many people can say that they've seen the pyramids and sphynx? It sounds a little paranoid, I know, but when you carry an American passport in countries that are not too keen on Americans, you consider these things.


When we get back to America, Bill's looking at another trip to Bermuda - a lovely beachy vacation that's not too hot in the summer. Our poor, white British-ized skin needs time to adapt to Carribean sun. But perhaps we'll brave the Florida heat to visit our friends who live there. We haven't asked yet if they're available.

It's all very exciting. After a year of feeling like I was on the edge of my seat, ready to leave at any moment, it is a relief. There's lots to do, of course, but at least I have a date to work toward and I don't feel like the human yo-yo anymore.

Happy Easter!

SUNSHINE

After my last post, you may think that I've been wallowing in self-pity for the last two weeks. But actually, I haven't. I'm a naturally optimistic person. I get over set-backs pretty quickly and move on - especially when the sun is shining.

We have had glorious weather the last two weeks. I love to get out and walk in it. The birds are singing. The daffodils are in full-bloom and everything is mostly right with the world. Can you believe that this native-Texan goes out without a jacket in 50-degree weather when the sun shines? It makes all the difference and really lifts my spirit.

BUT a change is coming!
There is an artic blizzard coming down from the North and we are supposed to have heavy snow on Sunday and Monday. Those poor flowers aren't going to know what hit them, or the kids. I told Brendan about the forcast, and he said, "Aw, I've had my fill of snow." Maybe this time they'll close the school and we can play in it properly.

Unfortunately it does ruin our plans of going to London this weekend for Mother's Day. Yes, Mother's Day, or Mothering Day as they say here. It always happens in March, not May. And I guess that they call it Mothering Day so that any one who fulfills that role, grandmas, aunties, foster parents, or dads can get the praise that they deserve. Father's Day is on the same day as the US and is not called Fathering Day. Does that say something about the relative significance of each parent? Anyway, I alway have to stock up on cards in March to be sure I have something to send to the States in May.

So please don't worry about. You could send me a card for Mothering Day if you like. Most probably, I'll be out playing in the snow. Only in England!

Details

Is it the devil or God that's in the details? I've heard it both ways. Either way, I'm not good with them. My close-is-good-enough outlook on life has a way of catching up with me every couple of decades, give or take a few years. I know that this is one of my shortcomings. I try to work at being organized and detail-oriented, so nothing falls through the cracks. However, I've slacked off since I stopped working. I messed up, and this time, it affected my son.

In England, the schools are on a two-tier system. There is primary and secondary school, not elementary, middle, and high school, like in the states. Getting into the right secondary school is a big deal. It can effect the rest of your life - where you get accepted to university and what career you're able to pursue. My task this term was to get Brendan into the "right" school - Northampton School for Boys. I went to the parents evenings. I agree it is the best, and I wanted him to have the chance to attend. Their entrance requirements are strict. They are always oversubscribed, which means more boys apply than can be accepted. And I missed one important detail.

In the application packet was a postcard which requested a place in the aptitude exams for technology and music. It had to be in earlier than the application. But I was ahead of schedule on the application, so I thought I'd hand-carry them to the office and turn them in together. I was a week early on the application, but two days late on the exam request. So Brendan was not able to sit the exams, and he was not accepted to the school. On the contrary, he got into our third choice school, which is really not acceptable at all. I'm certain this is the detail that kept him from being accepted. I know of four other boys who applied, all equally bright and talented, and the only difference I can see, is that Brendan didn't take the exams.

It's my fault. I screwed up! It's just like the Baumberger Endowment all over again! When I was applying for colleges, I had the opportunity to receive a large sum of grant money, and I missed a detail in that process, and didn't get any of it.

When will I learn this life lesson? I hope Brendan can see that parents are not perfect and learn from my mistake. Forever more, this will be known as the NSB debacle. Any time I see him sliding, hopefully, all I'll have to say is, "Remember NSB." He's forgiven me, but warned me not to mess up again!

I thought I could shoulder the blame. Besides, I honestly do not want to be here in September. That has always been my drop-dead cut-off date for moving back to the States. So it's really inconsequential, except that it hurts that they didn't want our son. And Bill does blame me. He said he now knows that I cannot be trusted to do anything big on my own. ouch. He's right though. I wouldn't trust myself, right now. And as a matter of pride, he wants me to appeal the decision. He wants to be able to turn them down, not the other way around.

I lost a lot of sleep that first night. I was torn as to whether to pursue this any further. I half think I subconsciously sabotaged this from the beginning so that we wouldn't have the option to stay. But I feel sure that if God had wanted it to happen, he could have intervened. And he didn't. He closed that door for us, for good.

So, after the weekend of bouncing back and forth (remember human yo-yo), I'm finally comfortable with the fact that yes, indeed, we are moving home. And I'm relieved. Of course, Bill has been out of town, so we haven't had a chance to talk it through. You get to read this before we can work it out. I really don't want to hear any offers about staying any longer. I'm starting to make plans, get ORGANIZED, and pull together pricing to move. Pray for us.

Husband Bragging (not bashing)

For almost a year now, we have been anticipating either Bill being made redundant (laid-off) or finding the right time for him to resign. The management in his company has changed drastically and they are in dire straights. Bill got his bonus, a big hurdle for us, and we are prepared to pay our way home. Only, now, there's a new boss who's taken a liking to Bill for some reason or another and is trying to get him to stay! She's asking him what it would take, and offering some tempting options. UGH!

I feel like a yo-yo!

I know he's an excellent employee and manager. His employees tell him so. I'm glad someone in management has finally noticed. It's nice for him to be pursued and feel valued.

This week and next, he's attending two vendor conferences. At the first, he's speaking to a crowd of about 100 people about how they implemented the product, how they use it, and how the relationship is managed. Next week, he's going to be on an executive advisory board for another vendor, who wants his input on how to improve their products and services. Both of these are great opportunities for networking, exposure, and to get positive strokes. I'm very proud of him.

Yet again, I feel like we're in limbo. One thing left to come that will clench whether I even consider staying in Northampton is the placement letter we'll receive at the end of the week that tells us which secondary school Brendan has been accepted into. If it's not NSB, we will not stay. Simple. I think.

But wait, this was supposed to be about Bill. He agrees that in his existing role, he doesn't want to stay either. But who knows what they could offer. Then again, he sees the company as a sinking ship. Shouldn't we bail? He's worked so hard to gain a tough, fair reputation. I'm glad that he's seeing the fruits of his labor. But...

Hearts and Doner Kebabs

We're not big on giving store-bought cards when a date on a calendar says we should. Instead, I spent Valentine's Day morning on a photo safari looking for "hearts in nature." You should try this with your family. It takes a while to refocus - to stop and smell the roses, or see the hearts, as the case may be, but once you do, you'd be surprised at what you find. I found about twenty images that I downloaded, set to music and sent as an email to Bill. I love doing that sort of thing.

I also love being pampered. My sweetheart took Brendan and me to Istanbul, Turkey for a long weekend, where we stayed at the Four Seasons Hotel! Now, I'm bound and deteremined not to become a hotel snob, but you should treat yourself at least once to their five-star, white-glove treatment. they paid special attention to Brendan. There was a birthday cake waiting for him the first evening when we got back. There was popcorn and coke the next night. And when he solved a 3-D puzzle they gave him at check-in, they gave him another cake!

The hotel used to be a jail until 1983, so the walls were nice and thick, and we couldn't hear our neighbors like we could when we stayed at the Gaylord resort in Grapevine. I'm glad Brendan is a heavy sleeper! The Four Seasons has been beautifully converted, and is situated in the heart of the old town - just where I like to be. With the window open, we could hear the call to prayers from several mosques in the area - five times every day.

This is the most exotic, different city break we've taken. I was prepared to be wary. I didn't know how much they'd like having Christians, and obviously Americans, with Bill's white tennis shoes standing out like a sore thumb, in their city. But I was pleasantly surprised. It could have been because this is off-season and the shopkeepers are hard up for tourists to come spend their money in their shops. (They could sell ice to an Eskimo!) But people greeted us, smiled, and engaged us in conversation. Mostly it WAS a ploy to get us to come to their store or restaurant, but one gentleman stopped while we were waiting for our tour bus, and in very broken English, which he was proud to use, said, "Welcome to Istanbul. We're glad you're here. Have a long, good life." Then he walked away.

Istanbul is old! The Greeks called it Byzantium. The Romans made it their "new Rome" when they conquered the Greeks and called it Constatinople. The Aya Sofia was built in AD 535 by Justininan the Great. Even though it has been damaged by numerous earthquakes, and the dome has fallen in twice, it has remains of beautiful mosaics of Mary, Jesus and John the Baptist. The turks made it into a mosque when they conquered the city in 1453, and renamed the city to Istanbul. But I'm curious to know why they left so many Christian symbols.

Besides the Aya Sofia, we went into the Blue Mosque, so named for the way the sun illuminates all the blue tiles inside. We took a tour/cruise around town, to the Egyptian Bazaar, and down the Bosphorous - the river that divides city and Europe from Asia. It is a major thoroughfair for ships to get to and from the Black Sea and Mediterranean Sea. We also explored the Cistern, a huge underground holding tank built by the Romans to store the city's water supply. They brought the water from 19 KM away via aqueducts and stored it here. Those Romans were smart! But they didn't expect people to see the cistern. They built it from borrowed columns from old buildings whose capitols don't match, heaven forbid, and a few stone medusa heads for good measure. Fish live in the few feet of water that remain.

No visit would be complete without going to the Grand Bazaar! This is what I came for. But I was disappointed with it. The Egyptian Bazaar was more like a covered market, more what I had in mind, with it's piles of spices and Turkish delight. The Grand Bazaar was just an old indoor mall with concentrated shopkeepers coming at you from every direction. After half a dozen carpet merchants tried to drag us into their stores, we finally succombed to one of the less pushy ones. They offered us apple tea and sodas. We sat on couches and looked at lots of rugs. I really just wanted a hall runner, but Bill helped me change my mind and we walked out with a 5x7, double-knotted, naturally-died carpet in tans, reds and sages. I love it! But when we stepped out of the shop, the merchants mobbed us. "Now it's my turn!" they all said. It took two of us to carry the bag, and we made a beeline for the exit. Needless to say, I didn't get to see a lot of the Grand Bazaar, but I think we got enough of it.

The last night, we went to a dinner show, to see cultural dances from around Turkey. The audience was a veritable United Nations assortment. There were at least 25 countries represented. I knew they would have some belly dancers, along with the traditional dances, and whirling dervishes. There were a few other families there, so I expected it to be a family show. However, it featured 3 belly dancers – all very talented. And toward the end of the meal, the Greeks at one table moved their dishes, had the ladies dance on their table and tucked bills into their bras! Let me tell you, the Greeks, by far, know how to party hardest!

We've finally learned how to explore a city at a leisurely pace, without the need to see everything. I know we only scratched the surface, but we had a really nice time. I'd love to go back and see more mosques, the Topkapi Palace that was right next to us and we totally ignored, and the archeology and mosaic museums, but maybe with a different crowd. I can only drag my guys to so many museums and churches before they rebel. It's definitely at the top of my list, and staying at the Four Seasons didn't hurt the experience either.