Fishing

The spider webs are back.

I run a little later on Sunday mornings -- sleep in a little, and don't want to be out too early when some are just coming home from their Saturday nights (they tend to be unruly towards early morning runners.) I like to time my Sunday morning runs so that at my turnaround the sun is just rising.

It's a beautiful time of morning. The birds are really singing their morning songs.

As I crossed the Shiloh bridge this morning, headed south and back home, the sun was lighting up the new spider webs. On virtually every corner of every square in the railing, there was a glistening web -- probably a total of 50 different webs. Fishing for their breakfast. Casting their seines, perhaps.

Some appeared to be novice webs -- irregularly shaped, corners flapping in the wind. Others were the webs of experienced spiders -- perfectly symmetric, beautiful and built to last.

As I shuffled by, enthralled by the sunlight on the webs, I was sure at any minute I was going to see the words, "SOME PIG".

Harrisburg, PA

My wife, daughter and I went to visit my son in Harrisburg, PA over the holiday weekend.

We visited Hershey's Chocolate World in Hershey, PA twice and came home with bellyaches, tight waistbands, and a carry-on bag full of types of Hershey's chocolate one cannot find in Texas (i.e., hot cocoa flavored Kisses, Reeses brownies, chocolate truffle Kisses, etc.)

We made a trip to the Amish country (Intercourse, PA - formerly Cross Keys, PA) and saw the traditional images (horse-drawn buggies, mule-pulled plows), and the non-traditional images (a blushing Amish girl clearing the pebble driveway with a gas-powered blower).

We flew into Baltimore and drove to Harrisburg (much cheaper airfare). In Texas, one can just reverse the map to return. In Pennsylvania, that doesn't work so well. On our way back to the airport, we got on (OK, I got us on) a turnpike going the wrong way and had to drive 19 miles in the wrong direction to get to an exit to turn around.

We are all thrilled to be back in Texas, except that our son is still in Pennsylvania.

Silent Auction

I went to a silent auction on Friday night. I was outbid at the last minute on a Pampered Chef stoneware bar pan. Rats! Duped again.

I have a whole cabinet full of pans for bars, but I sure wanted that one.

When my daughter Katie was in elementary school, my wife and I were working the food line at the annual school carnival, serving up pizza and hot dogs and corny dogs and nachos. We weren't able to get away to the silent auction, so Katie took my wife's secret number and went to check it out.

Katie's concept of a silent auction was that you bid what you thought each item was worth, and the closest bidder wins the item. She was curious that everyone else was not also bidding on each item.

My wife got a call the next Monday with the good news that she had won 14 of the items in the silent auction. And, the school secretary said, "You really gave me a run for my money on that big Mary Kay basket!"

After lengthy discussion and negotiations, my wife was able to talk her into only paying for the 6 items for which there were no other bidders -- and let the second place bidders claim the other 8 items.

Our 6 prizes included a very large stuffed goose, a wire basket with a big square of bird seed suet, lunches with 3 different unpopular teachers, and one item so awful we can't even remember what it was. Please make your check payable to Kimberlin PTA for $49.

Katie (now in college) and her boyfriend Joe were at the silent auction with us on Friday night. It was also an art show, and my wife was there selling her original artisan southwestern turquoise jewelry. Katie said, "Why did you bid on that Pampered Chef pan? Shaina's mother sells that stuff and will probably give you one. Hey, what's your secret number, anyway?"

I'll just stop there and let you figure out the rest of the story.

A Wild Morning

Big storms last night in Garland, but they were over and out of the area by 4:15 when I left for my run this morning. Everything was washed clean. A few large tree limbs down.

Sometimes a black plastic trash bag looks like a skunk when you're out running, and sometimes a skunk looks like a black plastic trash bag, the former always being better than the latter.

This morning, I experienced the latter. Luckily, the skunk didn't spray, but I surprised him, and he surprised me. He jumped about 2 feet in the air, and I jumped about 4 feet in the air.

Hootie the owl in the top of the tree off in the distance must have seen it all and thought it was pretty funny (a hoot) because he immediately started hooting. And, he hooted until I was up and over the hill.

I don't know if wild animals have some kind of special communication or not, but when I got home, a raccoon was crossing the street in front of the house. He stopped and looked at me, and I was close enough to see a kind of smirk on his face, like he was thinking, "you goofball."

It was a wild morning for a run.

I'm Jamie Lee

Do you remember this scene in the movie Halloween? Jamie Lee Curtis had been to the house across the street and seen the horrific carnage, and was stumbling back across the street to the house in which she was babysitting. Michael Myers was following her, zombie like. She got to the house and couldn't get the front door open, and here he came.

I was Jamie Lee this morning.

I had finished my run and was finishing up my "newspaper ministry", putting several neighbors' newspapers up on their front porch. I was at the house directly across the street from mine and was headed back home when 3 mean-looking dogs ran through the yard between our and my neighbor's house.

They turned and headed down the street away from me, so I thought, "OK. Just walk slowly to the front door, and everything will be fine." I eased my keyring out of my pocket, and it jangled. Drat it all!

They turned and looked my way, and then started running towards me. Bah!

I rushed to the front door, pepper spray in one hand, key in the other. For the life of me, I couldn't get that key in the door, couldn't concentrate enough on the lock to stick in the key! They were barking now as they got closer. Gaaa!!!

I finally got the key in the lock, opened the door, and pulled the glass door shut right as they got to the door. Noseprints all over the glass door.

I really prefer that my morning runs be a lot less exciting.

Earthquake

I was in Chicago this week. I don't have a traveling job, so it was unusual for me to be there. I don't mind traveling if I can drive, even if it's a long drive. But, I really don't like the whole airport thing. Though I've often considered it, Chicago is really too far to drive from north Texas.

I don't know what it is about business trips that entice me to eat a pint of Ben & Jerry's every night in front of the TV.

Thursday evening wasn't a particularly good one. I fell asleep watching a show about Alaskan king crab fishermen. What a terribly dangerous, and awful, and exciting job that is. I could envision myself doing that job. Working with some real men. Trying to be one of them.

I forgot to call home.

At 4:15 (I looked at my clock) on Friday morning, the girls next door came flip-flopping down the hall (it was warm this week in Chicago) to end their evening. I couldn't go back to sleep, and I was crab fishing again.

At 4:30 my bed started to shimmy a little. Hmm... Must be a big truck. Then, my bed started to shimmy quite a bit, like I was sleeping in a bowl of Jello. Hmm... This wasn't good. At one point, I thought I should probably get my clothes on and get off the 21st floor. But, I just got up instead and had a cup of that awful hotel room by-the-cup coffee.

Never heard a peep out of the girls next door again.

They said it was the first earthquake in the area in 24 years, not just the normal swaying of tall buildings. I'm just lucky that way, I guess.

1-stories in Garland, Texas are great. No earthquakes, and no sway.

It's interesting to learn, after I've gotten back from a trip, what little things I do that irritate my wife, but that she lets me slide on.

My smelly running shoes were in the garage. Big Yank, my 20-year-old heavy hooded sweatshirt jacket and friend wasn't hanging over the utility room door but was back in my closet. All my CDs, books and other junk I pile up on the kitchen cabinet were put up.

I'm happy to report that this morning everything is back in its rightful place, including me.

Soap

We're out front weeding the flower beds, fixin' to plant some begonias. It's a glorious day in Garland.

Case, the sweet little 3-year-old next door neighbor boy, and one of our babies, is helping. Case said, "Kelly, you know what?"

"What?"

"We don't say bad words."

"That's right. We shouldn't say bad words."

"Kelly, you know what?"

"What?"

"I don't like soap."

"You don't? Why not?"

"It tastes bad."