26 results for 'Bessie Jewel'
The world has improved in many ways since I was born but after a certain age, I think it's best to leave the new toys to the youngsters. Frank and I keep our lives simple and share a very basic cell phone. We've retained our land-line but at least purchased a cordless phone about ten years ago. We were the last to detach from At&T's umbilical cord, I think, and it took Frank fully a year to realize that he didn't have to hunker over its cradle to be heard. Once he did figure it out though, our lives haven't been the same.
This morning, I can't find the phone. Frank has been talking... (more)
The temperature actually dropped into the high fifties last night. In South Central Texas that's considered downright frigid. Frank has dozed off in his chair, covered to the waist with an age-weary comforter my mother made him when we were newly weds. It's constructed of our most cherished tee-shirt collection composed of concert purchases, tie-dye favorites, political statements, and now defunct bar and restaurant advertisements. It's a tangible flashback of more than forty years of social - and personal - history.
His eyes flutter open and rest on the news which has served as background... (more)
Frank's having one of those mornings when his mind is just in some other time and space. He's calling our Yorkie puppy by the name of a Labrador we owned twenty years ago. She doesn't mind though. I have a feeling she'd answer to pretty much anything.
I was up early and have already seen the news, so Frank's having coffee with Robin Mead while I read the book I've been desperate to finish.
"Hey look!" he says. "It's George Bush on the news. And he's eatin' a corndog."
I don't have to look up. "That's not George Bush. That's Governor Perry."
"God, what'd he do to... (more)
The weather has been so pretty, Frank begins each day sifting through his tackle box. I'm not sure if he intends to go today or if he's simply putting rubber worms and lead jig-heads back into their appropriate spaces so he's ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. Doesn't matter.
My husband's a little in love with Robin Mead and listens to her happily report the most unhappy of situations. This morning as he places and replaces baits according to color, he's distracted by a Dallas pastor who claims Mormonism to be a cult.
"Why is that man allowed to talk on the news?"... (more)
Frank's having a pretty good day today and has decided the weather is perfect to go fishing. He's gathering his tackle and I find myself especially thankful for the friendship he began fostering years ago with the little boy down the street. Isaac Rodriguez isn't a little kid anymore, though. He's a strapping twenty one year old who, to be honest, stays in and out of jail for one petty crime after another.
I notice a news report about a fifth-grade boy, made bald by cancer treatments whose basketball teammates all shaved their own heads in a show of solidarity.
"Why'd they shave... (more)
It's about 5 a.m. and I can smell the coffee brewing in the kitchen while Robin Mead chirps out this morning's news. I avoid tuning into anything with too much discussion of politics since my husband, Frank, has begun to talk back to the images on the TV screen. Sometimes he even yells at them. I've tried to impress upon his deteriorating mind that they can't hear him. Actually, he's not so far gone that he doesn't know that but apparently is so far gone that he doesn't care.
The big event of today seems to be Amanda Knox's release from an Italian prison in Perugia. I have to admit,... (more)