Our house reminds me of my little one’s fish tank.  One minute everything is going along great and the next everything seems to have gone to pot.  We have two televisions in our home; one in our den and one in our little one’s playroom.  They both were working fine when we went to bed the other night.  I like to start my day with a bit of writing over my cup of coffee, and when I went to put on my soothing music I discovered we had no internet connection.  Despite my various troubleshooting efforts I had to call for help and they said a technician needed to come out to replace something.  The earliest they could arrive would be in a couple of days.  In the meantime I cannot control our thermostats, lights or even our coffee maker from my phone.  I realize these are first world problems and I do not wish to complain.  Rather, I’m pondering why everything was running smoothly and then all of a sudden it’s like our little fish tank became full of algae.  The American composer Duke Ellington said, “A problem is a chance for you to do your best.”  That is how I try to view everything, from hardship to SNAFUs like this.  Our little one is scared of the dark and my husband wants to watch the news.  One minute it’s broiling and the next it’s freezing.  The way I see it is we are blessed to have our own house, something I did not have the luxury of growing up.  We are blessed with electricity, and we are blessed to have iPhones that can do really cool stuff.  My mother did not have TV when she was a very little girl and she said she used to live for a radio program called “The Shadow.”  I confess I love books and watch TV but I have never simply listened to a story.  The past few days we have talked more, read more, played more, and simply looked at each other more.  What a gift and a reminder that we always have each other, so we are never really tanked.

When my mother was growing up she had a Siamese cat named Suki.  She was a great cat; the only thing was she would get out at night and leave her “presents” the next morning … namely dead rabbits.  Of course mother was horrified.  When she got married she brought Suki with her and I remember her when I was very little.  She lived a long time and her passing was particularly hard on my mother, who had her since she was a teenager.  When I was about eight Daddy took Mama and me to get another girl Seal Point Siamese and he named her Ling Ling.  Much to Mama’s disappointment, Lingy was always my cat.  She spent all her time in my room and only left to eat and use the litter box.  I took her with me when I moved out and she lived until I was about 28.  Lingy had shared most of my life with me and I loved her so.  I wrote about this at Christmas, but sometime last fall a beautiful fawn-colored calico mama cat had kittens in bad conditions; three favored her and two had blue eyes.  They were all gorgeous but one in particular got my attention; he looked like a purebred Blue Point Siamese.  I named him Blue and hoped he would keep his striking blue eyes.  His mask has darkened perfectly and all his points are exactly as a Siamese should be.  His eyes have remained a stunning light blue.  However as he has grown, so have his antics.  I had remembered the great intelligence Siamese have and that they are very communicative.  What I had forgotten was how wild they can be; as wild as a March hare Mama used to say.  Blue is as wild as they come and certainly has the intelligence.  The cat can outhunt the wolves in scavenging for food.  He will stealthily sneak up and snatch anything edible out of your hand before you even realize what’s happened.  And he will get into anything:  witness Exhibit A in this picture.  I have found him in my huge pot on the stove, inside the Christmas tree, on top of my little one’s five foot tipi, and on the mantle.  I had forgotten how Siamese love to be up high.  He has already broken two of my things.  But I have NO earthly idea how he managed to get on the windowsill above a twelve foot ceiling.  I have pictures of it all.  He’s a long, lanky thing and spends much of his time lying in wait to pounce on others.  The poor wolfies are scared of him because he hunts their tails.  He hides under the bed, in bags, underneath tables and sometimes he just openly runs, leaps and dives straight down like a fox.  The Austrian born psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud said, “Time spent with cats is never wasted.”  Blue certainly keeps us on our toes (or hiding them) with nary a dull moment … our gato loco.

It’s not every day a girl gets to wear the equivalent of a house on her finger.  This is the most stunning ring I have ever seen in my life.  My husband and I went to a charity event at a beautiful jewelry store and they were gracious enough to let me try it on.  I was quite proud to have been wearing the exact same ring, only a third of that size.  Mine looks like a Kashmir sapphire but it is really tanzanite.  Also, my ring is in white gold and of course this beauty was set in platinum.  Bubbles and bling, combined with hearing from good kids for whom the cause benefitted made for a delightful evening.  I am willing to bet I was the only person in that glittering room who had ever been on the receiving end of something like this.  It is a camp just for kids with juvenile diabetes and the event was to raise funds for those who could not otherwise afford to go.  In the fourth grade I began singing with the Dallas Girls’ Chorus and the next year I was the ONLY one who could not afford to go sing in Washington, D.C. for the President.  It was incredibly painful to be left out and has stayed with me to this day.  I do not have diabetes but I do know what it is like to want desperately to go to camp and seeing how upset your parents are because they simply do not have the money to send you.  Twice through church scholarships I got to go to Sky Ranch in junior high and they are still some of my fondest childhood memories.  So I really understand the importance of being able to attend.  I felt so good that we were able to make a donation, knowing that at one time someone had done the same for me.  The American hotelier Conrad Hilton said:

“Charity is a supreme virtue, and the great channel though which the mercy of God is passed onto mankind.”

I can say it is eminently better to be on the giving end; however, there is no shame in receiving.  I thought how great it was that this couple who owns the exquisite jewelry store and has been so blessed has chosen to be a blessing to others.  And, I realize this is a trivial thing, but I love it when we leave an event and they have the valets place “goodies” in our car.  It was just a fun cap on a terrific evening.  We got two beautiful publications and a bag of absolutely delicious chocolate chip cookies.  My husband, who is not big on “parties,” even told me he had a wonderful time with me.  I felt like a million bucks.  Now if I could only get half of that I could have that bling!  😉

Today is Valentine’s Day, or the feast of St. Valentine.  It is celebrated in many regions around the world but is not recognized in any country as a public holiday.  Through the centuries it has become a day associated with romantic love.  I have always been an incurably hopeless romantic.  This day has invariably been a disappointment for me I suppose because of my expectations.  It’s not the flowers or fancy restaurants, it’s the ROMANCE; the sentiment that is supposed to be behind all of it.  For the record, I think it this day should not be solely for one or the other; rather the couple.  I remember when I was in my late teens or early twenties crying a lot on this day.  The guy I was dating at the time either didn’t bother to even buy a card or he expected something that a good girl simply did not do.  Throughout all of it my folks always invited me to come and eat with them.  They truly wanted me but I was old enough by then to realize they needed their own time to just be with each other.  My father was a romantic.  When he was dating Mama he brought her fresh flowers every week.  Fiinally my Grandmother Maris asked him to stop because she said the house was overflowing.  He wrote Mama poetry often and for no reason.  I would see little notes on the refrigerator with hearts that he would leave for her after he’d gone to work.  She was adored and I often wonder if she was truly aware of it.  Certainly, she loved my father deeply.  But I think she became accustomed to how good he was to her.  Every Valentine’s Daddy would go to the grocery store and buy her a giant Russell Stover’s ruffled silk heart box full of candy.  But what I always loved was that he also bought a little one for me.  He would say they were for his two best girls and then wink.  He was devastatingly handsome and truly a good man.  This day reminds me of New Year’s in that I think it can be very difficult for people.  If you find yourself alone and reading this, know that someone out there loves you,  And, if you truly feel you have no one who loves you may I suggest you reach out and love others; it is the surest way for love to come back to you.  If it somehow doesn’t, I can promise you that rescuing an animal from certain death at a shelter will be the greatest love you will find on this earth.  Cat or dog, old or young; they KNOW.  And they will always be unconditionally loving and grateful to you because of it.  Of course there is always the love of our Creator, who knows you by name and knows all of your desires.  Love encompasses so much.  The American motivational speaker Denis Waitley said:

“Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed.  Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace, and gratitude.”

When my husband came home tonight he had gotten a long stem pink rose from work.  I asked him to give it to our little one.  Listening at the playroom door I heard, “For ME?  I never got flowers from a MAN before!”  Now Valentine’s for me is about the unending, overflowing love I have for my daughter.  From the second I saw her I loved her more than my own life, and I knew I had been struck by cupid.

I love the mall, but I avoid it like the plague before, during, and after the holidays.  So basically I try not to set foot in it after Halloween until just before Mardi Gras.  Writing this, I find it odd that both of those holidays involve masks.  My one exception is that we make a special day to visit Santa.  Regardless of the time I have a double before the hubs heads us out; it is the only way to survive.  When I was 19 I worked at Lord & Taylor and I STILL have not forgotten the horror of the holiday rush.  And the returns; OH the dreaded returns.  I remember we had to work until 9 p.m. and I thought that was hard.  Now stores are making employees work until 11!  Every job I have held has made me mindful of others.  My first job was at Mc Donald’s; I never leave trash on my table at a self-service restaurant.  My second was at a bookstore; I never take a book without returning it to its proper place.  I do not leave a pile of clothes on the floor for employees to have to go through.  I tip my delivery drivers decently if they were nice and did a good job.  And I refuse to patronize ANY store on Thanksgiving.  Folks belong with their families or simply deserve the break to be thankful.  But I have digressed.  Like a rabbit emerging from its hole I ventured back to the mall.  As I was going through the parking lot I noticed red and green lights on the ceiling by each parking spot.  Wondering if it was something left over from Christmas, I realized they had these installed so drivers can easily scan for an open parking space by looking for a green light.  Once you’ve parked, it turns red.  I thought it was so cool I decided to take a picture of it.  The American Pulitzer Prize winning columnist Dave Barry once quipped:

“Once again, we come to the Holiday Season, a deeply religious time that each of us observes, in his own way, by going to the mall of his choice.”

I figure I have months ahead of me to enjoy the mall before surviving the maul.

I have always enjoyed and benefited from a good mnemonic device.  I’ve used them in music as a kid and, most notably, in geology at college.  The one I remember the most is “Can Oscar See Down My Pants Pocket?”  I have never been able to forget the international Paleozoic timeline:  Cambrian, Ordovician, Silurian, Devonian, Mississippian, Pennsylvanian, and Permian.  My little one is getting to love dinosaurs just as her father and I always have.  In fact, a few years ago Burk and I discovered when we were kids we were both members of the Junior Archaeological Society.  It was in the Natural History Museum at Fair Park.  Kids could sift for fossils and we both still have our finds somewhere.  The Brontosaurus is one of the largest animals ever to walk the earth.  I have always liked them because they were believed to be plant eaters.  Burk and I also really loved the ’70’s television show “Land of the Lost” as kids.  I can still sing the whole theme song.  Recently our little one came home with this PINK dinosaur hatched from its PINK egg and was just ecstatic!  “How cool is that, Mama?!” she asked as she looked up at me with sheer happiness.  “Way cool, kiddo,” I replied, smiling down into her dark, sparkling eyes.  She asked if I would play with her so we set about finding her baby suitable plants to eat.  I took to inserting random facts about different dinosaurs as we played.  Sitting out in the sunshine discussing ancient animals with my child while she listened in rapt fascination is one of the best times I have had with her; and I have had many.  I am truly amazed at how motherhood just keeps getting better and better.  Helen Hunt Jackson, the American writer and activist on behalf of Native Americans once said:

“Motherhood is priced Of God, at price no man may dare To lessen or misunderstand.”

Each day brings with it a new surprise:  sometimes it’s a handmade card, sometimes it’s a compliment so full of love and sincerity I wish I could bottle it, and sometimes it’s a baby brontosaurus.

This light is a symbol I have had in my home ever since I can remember finding out about my Native American Indian heritage.  It was at once startling and satisfying when I found out my grandmother was Choctaw.  So much fell into place … it was like this giant piece of our family puzzle finally came together for Daddy and me, and also for my mother.  It even explained the cadence of the way Grandma spoke English.  I believe my father felt a relief in finally knowing who he was and understanding so many things in hindsight about his formative years.  “Nashoba” is the word for “wolf” in Choctaw, and “okchako” means “blue.”  My spirit animal and my favorite color now had an ancient language I could put with them.  We were welcomed into the local Indian community with open arms, as there were many stories like our own.  Some people in their adulthood had no idea they even were full-blood.  And yet Native culture survives.  I have always been fascinated with symbology, starting at eleven when I wrote my first book on Christian symbols.  History has swallowed some symbols in her shroud of mystery.  As her secrets are revealed, our knowledge can either be shaken or reinforced.  Our countries have symbols, our places of worship have symbols, and sports teams and schools have symbols.  They stand for who we are, what we believe, and what we represent.  Although wolves in European culture have been falsely maligned for centuries, the wolf in native culture is rightly revered.  They are at the top of the animal chain, take no more than they need, keep nature in balance, are incredibly loyal, family oriented, and mate for life.  Wolves are also excellent communicators.  The color blue represents both the sky and the sea.  It is associated with open spaces, intuition, inspiration, and sensitivity.  Blue also represents meanings of depth, trust, loyalty, sincerity, wisdom, confidence, stability, faith, and intelligence.  I find the animals people are drawn to and the colors they choose fascinating.  For instance, my father loved the buffalo (known for strength) and my mother was drawn to turtles (the symbol for longevity.)  Daddy loved the color purple (a sign of devotion) and Mama’s favorite color was yellow (an almost universal color for sunshine.)  It was no surprise to me when my mother’s hospice nurse gave her the nickname “Sunshine.”  I would say my little one’s favorite animal is the cat, which represents independence and self confidence.  She steadfastly loves pink, and I suspect it is not simply a little girl phase.  Pink represents compassion, nurturing, and love.  Years ago when I asked my husband what animal and color he was drawn to I completely freaked out.  He said ravens and black!  I used to fear ravens, as I have always associated them with death.  After doing some research I was stunned to discover there has always been a strong connection between ravens and wolves.  They have been called “wolf birds” because they scavenge wolf kills, and ravens are also arguably the most intelligent birds based on their ability to adapt to almost any environment.  The color black is associated with power, strength, elegance, authority, formality, rebellion, and sophistication.  The Irish born British novelist C. S. Lewis once said:

“Humans are amphibians – half spirit and half animal.  As spirits they belong to the eternal world, but as animals they inhabit time.”

Regardless of your beliefs, think about an animal and a color you are drawn to.  Study their meaning, and you might learn something about yourself.  As for me, I am nashoba okchako.

I think the older we get we forget what is really like to be little.  Remember when chairs were big, tables were tall, and doorknobs were high?  Imagine being barely five and being summoned into a 9th degree black belt Grandmaster’s office.  It was incredibly intimidating for me, and I’m 46.  Our little one was being awarded her green belt without even belt testing.  Forgive a proud mama; she is the only girl in her class and she more than holds her own.  As she continues her journey I am beginning my own in taekwondo, and I am loving every minute.  My daddy used to say the two saddest words were “if only.”  I do not want to look back and wish I had tried.  I do not want to say I am too old or I cannot do it.  I CAN!  I love the mental challenges and heaven knows I need the exercise physically.  I have told my daughter to never want to stop learning.  The key in that sentence is “want” — to desire or have a need.  The love of learning is a lifelong pursuit and a joy.  The American writer Anthony J. D’Angelo said, “Develop a passion for learning.  If you do, you will never cease to grow.”  I have a passion for writing, wolves, history, environmental protection, reading, and martial arts just to name a few.  Among other things my husband has a passion for geography, history, and politics.  My daughter is only beginning to unlock the key to learning, and she has realized with great jubilation it really is everything.  The more she can read, the more she understands.  The more she understands, the more she learns.  The more she learns, the more she wants to share that with others as well as implement it for the enrichment of her own life.  For her it now applies to reading, writing, math, science, church, singing, animals, nature, and martial arts.  She wants to learn about the Bible, dinosaurs, the ocean, and every animal on the planet.  Admittedly both my husband and I share those loves and so many more.  I want her to spread her wings and soar.  Whatever she pursues I just ask that she do it wholeheartedly and to the best of her ability:  that is what my father asked of me.  I try to always seek, and I am thankful to watch my girl begin her own quest.

My daddy was an usher at church.  He was always so proud to serve.  I often wish my husband could have met him.  They are both alike in many ways.  I remember when Burk was asked to usher and how proud he was.  I think he was the youngest by about 20 years.  Ever since our little one was a baby she has sought him out wherever he was in the sanctuary serving.  She used to say, “DA DA!” and point her tiny little finger at him.  The whole congregation saw it and loved the way her eyes lit up whenever she found him.  Now she waves at him and he smiles back at her as we pass on our way up to the high altar; myself for the Eucharist and her for a blessing.  I remember my daddy used to wink at me a lot and it would make my heart flip.  He was the most handsome, strongest man I have ever known and we were incredibly close.  Now I see my little one looking up at her daddy with the same rapt, adoring look I had for my father.  When the service was over she ran up to him and said, “Daddy!  Hold me!  You’re the handsomest man in the world!”  I got to capture this precious moment in time thanks to always having my iPhone in hand.  (Practically the only time I don’t check it is in church.)  It has often been said I look like my mother but with my father’s eyes.  Now it is said our little one looks like me but with her father’s eyes.  I imagine my mother must have felt the same looking at my father and me, as she so often took our picture together, with all the love she had showing in her eyes.  I pray our only child will be led to choose a gentle, kind man just as I chose my husband to be and my mother chose to be hers.  The American priest of the Congregation of Holy Cross, Theodore Hesburgh, said, “The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother.”  I grew up watching the deep, faithful, selfless, and abiding love my father had for my mother.  At 34, I waited a very long time to find a relationship like theirs for myself.  I pray for the man whom my daughter chooses; that he will love the Lord and his wife with all of his heart.  And I pray my that my daughter has a little girl who continues the cycle of ushering in love.

I have a penchant for things that incorporate animal imagery:  I have wolf salt and pepper shakers, a coyote cutting board, a fox butter dish, a squirrel nutcracker, a hedgehog toothpick holder, a turtle trivet, and a fish water jug that gurgles just to name a few.  Today I saw this little guy and could not resist.  Heaven knows I have a wine opener; I just loved it and it was inexpensive.  These whimsical little things never fail to brighten my day.  And they’re not cluttering the house; I use these things on a regular basis.  I have a cat shaped clock, a wolf ash tray, a coyote wine stopper, fox mugs, bird shaped scissors, squirrel nut holders, fox serving trays, coyote napkin rings, wolf knife rests, my mother’s cardinal lamp, and more.  In fact the more I think about it, my little one has a cat shaped toothbrush holder where the tail is the toothbrush, a soap dispenser shaped like a dog, a cat mat in her room, and we even have wolf shower curtain hooks in our master bath.  The American essayist and naturalist Diane Ackerman said:

“We’re losing biodiversity globally at an alarming rate, and we need a cornucopia of different plants and animals, for the planet’s health and our own.”

I would definitely say our house contains a cornucopia of different animals, but I really do try to be mindful of all animals.  I slow down for any creature on the road (and often times have moved them to safety,) any wildlife is free to drink from our pond, I am a vegetarian trying to go vegan (I enjoy almond milk now,) I try never to buy leather, I am glad the circus with animals is closing, and I have conflicted feelings about zoos.  *sigh*  My daddy used to say to do the best you can and then go on with it.  Right now I believe “owl” just have some wine.