Today was our fair day this year.  The hubs got off work, I had a free day, and our little one did not have school.  We were confident that a Monday would be slower and less crowded.  We were wrong.  It was so packed the who-knows-how-many-acres of parking inside the fair grounds were ALL completely full and it was just early afternoon.  So we did just what I remember doing as a kid:  Daddy parked the car on someone’s lawn and we prayed it would still be there by the time we got out.  When I asked if we needed a ticket the woman looked at me, cackled, and said, “Baby I AM your ticket!”  I winked and shot her a sideways grin as we made our way into the home of Big Tex, the icon of the Texas State Fair.  He is 55 feet tall, wears a size 96 boots and sports a 95 gallon hat.  Everything is bigger in Texas.  Of course we took our requisite picture with the big guy before I indulged in fried spinach balls with cream cheese (delicious) and beer.  The hubs got his traditional German bratwurst and only thing gluten free we could find for our little one was kettle corn.  It came in a bag so huge it quickly took her place in the stroller.  I proudly won a husky/wolf for my collection at a water gun shoot out (whomever fills the balloon first and it bursts wins) and then it was off to ride rides as the sun began to set.  Suddenly I was back in junior high with 80’s music blaring, lights whirling, and the underlying smell of Fletcher’s famous corny dogs.  My husband cannot ride because he gets motion sick.  So I found myself next to a middle school girl who got stuck riding with the lady she didn’t know.  But when we were in the air and I was screaming my lungs out she decided I was pretty cool.  The only difference was seeing my forty something feet swinging above my head in sandals instead of my fourteen year old ones in sneakers.  The famous French actress and animal rights activist Brigitte Bardot said:

“A photograph can be an instant of life captured for eternity that will never cease looking back at you.”

I agree.  There are also some rare things and special places that, if unchanged, have the ability to transport us backward in time.  For me, I have an eternal feeling reemerge once a year beginning when I stand with my family of three, just as I did as a child, and I hear Big Tex say, “Howdy, Folks!”

I think everyone likes to be appreciated, whether it’s a job one must do or one of your choosing.  My father said we may not always love the job we have, but we can always do it well.  Some jobs are thankless, some jobs are physically demanding, and some jobs do not get the recognition they deserve.  My little one is good about telling everyone thank you, from the checker at the grocery store to the police directing traffic, and that makes me very happy.  Just standing on your feet all day can be grueling and I think a soft smile or kind word goes a long way.  I love my job but I do not go in expecting a tip.  I am paid to do that job and I try to do it to the best of my ability.  I realize that my services add up and I am truly grateful to have the work.  I love spending my days taking care of dogs, cats, birds and any other creature that does not require me feeding another live critter to it.  I keep most of the notes clients have left me; they mean a lot.  It is a great feeling knowing they are confident entrusting me with their furry, finned, and/or feathered family.  Sometimes they’ll leave a gift for my little one, who has become an excellent helper and caregiver in her own right.  Their thoughtfulness and kindness has never gone forgotten.  I have been treated horribly by some but then who hasn’t?  It is not good to dwell on the negative.  So I was thrilled to receive this wonderful surprise from a family after they’d come back from their summer home for the winter.  They have a wine room and this July I just sat in there for about twenty minutes inhaling the soft scent of cigars and letting my body cool down from walking dogs in 100 plus degree heat.  They not only left me a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon (my favorite) to enjoy, they wrote a kind note thanking me for all my work and added one hundred dollars to my check!  To know by the note I was appreciated was truly gratifying, to receive the wine was lovely, and to have an extra hundred bucks was an elated woo hoo!  In 1779 Benjamin Franklin, the first United States Ambassador to France, wrote to this to his friend, André Morellet, the theologian and philosopher:

“We hear of the conversion of water into wine at the marriage in Cana, as of a miracle.  But this conversion is, through the goodness of God, made every day before our eyes.  Behold the rain which descends from heaven upon our vineyards, and which incorporates itself with the grapes to be changed into wine; a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy!”

I believe he was correct.  It’s hard to argue with Ben Franklin and a Cab Sav.

When I was a kid going through the car wash was a big treat.  Of course in the 70’s it was way different than it is now.  They had these giant blue mop things that would ineffectively swish the dirt around from side to side on the windows, creating an immediate sense of claustrophobia.  Next orange rolling brushes would come pounding down so hard I was convinced the roof of our station wagon would collapse right on top of our heads.  All the while I would be happily sitting on my father’s paint cans in the back “playing the drums.”  Not only could I ride backward (which I LOVED) there were no car seats in the back, no seat belts, or even seats for that matter!  I only vaguely remember 8-tracks but I do remember always singing the song, “Car Wash” by Rose Royce the entire time we were there.  Then to dry they had these yellow strips which would ineffectually flail at our sides as we drove out.  We did not have air-conditioning so by the end it was sweltering hot.  I could not wait to roll down my still wet window to let in “fresh” blowing pizza oven hot air.  Now I take my little one as a treat and I cannot help but compare our experiences.  She sits in her plush car seat with dual cup holders, drinking filtered water and having a snack as ice cold air blasts directly on her, all the while dictating what song she’d like next as I play DJ for her in my own car.  Most car washes use jets now and we both always stop and look up with awe when the pink, blue and yellow foamy soap comes squiggling down the sides and over my panoramic sunroofs.  It’s just cool.  Soon we are enveloped in a sort of psychedelic green haze and one of us never fails to remark on how good it smells.  As I write I realize I have a disco playlist in my music on my iPhone; I should add “Car Wash” to it and surprise her the next time we go.  The British photographer Cecil Beaton once asked and answered, “What is elegance?  Soap and water!”  I shall remember we are striving to maintain elegance the next time I can no longer see through the windshield and we take a trip to the car wash.

I loved cartoons as a kid.  I still love the classics as an adult … from Pepe le Pew to Scooby Doo.  In the past couple of years thanks to my little one I have found myself watching a new generation of cartoons like “Paw Patrol,” “Sophia the First,” and “The Octonauts.”  I would like to be writing but I think it is important to spend time with loved ones doing what they enjoy.  Our favorite program is the underwater adventures of the Octonauts, a group of animal explorers who travel the ocean in order to help creatures in distress.  Captain Barnacles is the polar bear who leads them, Kwazzi the cat is the Lieutenant, Peso the penguin is the medic, Shellington the sea otter (my favorite) is the marine biologist, Dashi the Dachshund is the IT officer and photographer, Tweak the rabbit is the engineer, and Professor Inkling is the octopus oceanographer and founder of the group.  The feminist in me likes that both the information technology officer and the engineer are both girls.  And yes clearly I have spent some time watching this.  The coolest part of the cartoon is at the end of each mission when they show actual footage of the creature they saved during their “creature report.”  I have discovered a lot and it is fascinating.  For instance I learned about the coconut crab, whom I had no idea existed.  They can weigh up to nine pounds and be over three feet in length!  They are the largest terrestrial arthropod and invertebrate in the world!  Speaking of incredibly big things, when Burk and I found out the Octonauts were coming to town I’m not sure which of the three of us was the most excited.  The cost to get in to see this show was, in my opinion, sheer highway robbery.  See that cool twirly thing she’s holding?  $20!  I remember going to the circus as a kid (something I will never do now if it involves live animals) and one of the highlights was my folks getting me this red and blue light that changed colors when you slung it in a circle.  No expending energy for this generation … they simply turn on a button and a myriad of different light patterns emerge.  Beer and pizza was OUTRAGEOUS and worse, the center had bars with no bartenders.  The whole thing came close to my idea of Hell.  I adore the cartoon and love kids shows, but for me this one fell short.  Did our little one have a good time?  You bet!  It was thrilling to see the cartoon characters “live.”  But our time spent together as a family was what was most important.  The Russian novelist Ivan Turgenev once said:

“Time sometimes flies like a bird, sometimes crawls like a snail; but a man is happiest when he does not even notice whether it passes swiftly or slowly.”

This show oddly passed both swiftly and slowly.  I was still trying to process how much money we’d dropped and we didn’t even pay extra for the VIP pass where she could have met the characters.  I was sick about that until I found out it was only Captain Barnacles and Tweak.  I was hoping to see Shellington and our little one loves Peso because she wants to be a vet.  So that was a zillion dollars saved.  Regardless of the money, the most important thing a family can spend together is time; it is simply priceless.

Ever since I can remember I have loved the State Fair of Texas, the largest state fair in the nation.  My parents and I always went and had a good time but we pretty much had no money to blow on rides and certainly not on games.  Still, we went early and availed ourselves of the Natural History Museum, the Dallas Aquarium, the Dallas Museum of Art (now located downtown), and all the free exhibits they had to offer.  There was the Hall of State, the Women’s Museum, and the Texas Agriculture building.  In the ’70’s you could walk through and have an entire meal just on free samples alone.  My daddy lived for it!  They don’t do that anymore.  We would walk along Fair Park’s beautiful Esplanade, a 700 foot reflection pool with tall, spraying fountains, and admire the largest collection of art deco exhibition buildings, art, and sculpture in the United States.  I loved looking at all the murals which thankfully have now been restored.  Built in 1936 for the Texas Centennial and world’s fair, the exposition is credited with buffering Big D from the Great Depression.  I have always been aware of the irony of just how little money matters and, at the same time, just how important it can be.  This year I jumped the gun and bought our fair tickets on line thinking to save a little money.  To me the cost just to get in has never been cheap.  After that all food, drinks, rides, and games cost additional money.  Yes, there are discount days but sometimes one cannot make them.  Last night my husband came home from work with these two free tickets good for admission any time.  All I could think was that was $32 we could have spent on rides or games!  Then I was at the grocery store this morning speaking with my favorite checker about the fair.  I asked if she was going and she said no.  She went on to say she’d lived here fourteen years, that her daughter was fifteen, and they had never been.  “I’m paycheck to paycheck.”  And then with no small amount of chagrin I realized I’d become what I swore I never would be — someone slightly unthinking about money.  I was ashamed that after a lifetime of poverty I’d managed to somewhat forget in less than a decade.  But then I remembered!  I raced home to get my husband’s free tickets; texting him to ask if it was OK if I gave them away to this lady.  “Sure” my sweet love texted back without hesitation.  So I came back to the grocery store and waited until all the people were through her line.  Then I asked if she would like these tickets for the fair.  Tears welled in her eyes and I explained they were free from my husband’s employer and that we already had ours.  “Promise me you’ll go,” I said and she replied, “Well how can I NOT go now?!”  Then I smiled and said, “You and your daughter have fun!”  As I turned away I heard her say, “God is good!”  Yes He is.  I was so proud I’d found a way to share an October blessing that was personal (thanks to my husband) and I thought of the scripture in Acts 20:35 where St. Paul says:

I have showed you all things, how that so laboring you ought to support the weak, and to remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give than to receive.

Indeed it is.

It had been a long day and my husband was working late so my best girl and I decided to pick up from a favorite of ours, La Madeline.  As we were waiting we met another mother and her little girl several years older who were doing the same thing.  I was drawn to them instantly and I could just feel their deep love for one another.  Her mother had a serene radiance about her and her daughter was luminescent.  I encouraged my little one to go and make friends.  Within seconds, these two girls were holding the window seat like a barre; the ballerina extending her body like a graceful gazelle while mine was carefully extending her legs explaining karate kicks.  Pretty soon my little one started looking swanlike and the gazelle started learning defensive kicks.  They were so darn cute, the two of them.  Without having a child it is not as easy to just walk up and speak to strangers.  What a shame.  I think we miss out on so many opportunities for relationships.  They say Americans are known for smiling.  Kids or no, in these divided times I believe now more than ever we should try simply saying hello to one another.  Who knows?  It might lead to a new friendship in your life.  I feel blessed to have met this beautiful child and her sweet mother.  The Irish poet William Butler Yeats once said, “There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven’t yet met.”

The famed Canadian writer L. M. Montgomery once said, “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”  I picked up this sign today and thought it was a great way to begin my favorite month.  It is also my favorite season with the transition from summer to autumn.  My birthday falls on this month, as did my father’s, and now my little one shares his birthday as well.  There is the State Fair of Texas in the beginning of October and trick-or-treating at the end.  Leaves begin to turn colors as bright as the pumpkins on our porch and the scent of decorative hay bales perfumes the cooler night air.  It is a special month for me and I guess that is why this sign struck a chord.  I have been quick to count my blessings but I confess I have not particularly shared them as perhaps I should.  I would like to think I am ready with a smile or a compliment and I believe I am good about little gifts and thank yous.  We give to church every month and I help wolves worldwide in any way I am able by signing petitions, raising awareness, and donating.  But I do not think that is what this sign intended to convey.  I think it is meant to be more personal than that.  This month I am going to look for ways to truly implement this message.  I don’t just want to count; I want to share my October blessings.

On St. Valentine’s Day when my Baby Doll was just three years old my husband and I wandered into a martial arts studio with her.  They had classes for ages 3 to 6 called “Little Rhinos” and we decided to try her to see if she liked it.  For the entire first session she sat there with her little legs crossed, quietly observing everything with her huge, dark brown eyes.  She participated but did not utter one single word … and her participation was truly after careful consideration.  Her instructor ever so gently coaxed her thumb out of her mouth and his kind but firm discipline reminded me of my father.  She never cried once (like the boys) or even looked to me; she simply took it all in with a thoughtfulness that transcended her tender years.  When class was over we asked if she wanted to go back and she said yes.  Then to my great surprise I discovered it was South Korean!  I went home and cried as I thought of my late father and how he used to call me endearments in Korean.  He proudly served eight years in that forgotten war, becoming well-versed in Korean martial arts.  And I just KNEW.  I felt Daddy behind me on this.  A dawning realization came of my childhood with its methodical discipline and I realized how much he had shaped my life.  I was already subconsciously rearing our daughter in the same way.  I began to look around and take notice of their actions: saluting the flag, bowing to show respect, and having to complete jobs lists they must submit in order to belt test.  After that she earned her white belt which had her name written on it.  I was SO PROUD.  In this school kiddos earn a camouflage belt next.  I got her a personalized belt rack for her bedroom door and then she earned her yellow stripe belt and after that she earned her orange stripe belt.  Then she was able to move to the “Advanced Little Rhinos” class where she earned her purple stripe belt, her green stripe belt, her brown stripe belt, and her red stripe belt.  Sitting in the studio tonight I thought this was it.  About two years of her life later, almost at the end of age four, my little one would be testing for her first black belt.  Of course this would be on a level for littles but it still does not diminish her knowledge, her skill, her confidence, her perseverance, or all of her hard work.  In previous ceremonies she has busted boards in half with an ax kick (using her leg), an elbow strike (so difficult they weren’t sure she could even do it), and this board she would split with a side kick.  I thought it was funny that for this picture she put it back together.  So I am now the popping proud mother of a kind, gentle little girl who is learning strength and honor through discipline and respect; just as I know my father would have wanted.  She is also learning the value of setting goals, and I pray all of it will serve her well throughout her entire life.  My baby is a black belt!

I have been trying to declutter our house a little at a time for the past year or so.  There are a couple of reasons for this:  I want our home to look more spacious and I want to let go of things we no longer need or use.  Environmentally, I am committed to reducing, reusing, and recycling.  I do not want to have a disposable household and I want my daughter to appreciate her toys and her clothes.  Change is a battle for me though because I am a creature of habit.  I like my things precisely where they are.  I am not one of those people switching up the furniture in every room all the time or painting the walls a different color.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that; it’s just not me.  My husband REALLY does not like change.  The Greek philosopher Heraclitus is quoted as having first said, “The only thing constant in life is change.”  So when the TV guy broke one of my lava lamps I tried to look at the positives.  One, it WAS looking a little cluttered; two, I did not need the second one over by my blue neon wolf.  Three, the working one I moved really did look much better because it was in a place where it stood alone and could be seen more prominently.  Our den feels totally different now just from having to make those small changes!  I cannot believe how one thing that happened could affect so much!  I am going to have to remember that:  all actions have a ripple effect.

There we were, this dashing Frenchie and I, together for our regular nooner, taking our walk and enjoying the cooler weather.  This handsome boy has a rep around the neighborhood for giving it to anyone he doesn’t like … whether two-legged or four.  He’s not aggressive; he’s just opinionated.  The American writer Mark Twain once said, “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.”  This little guy definitely fits that!  The street we were on was lined with huge dogs all going nuts, no doubt intimidated by Bruiser’s big personality.  He never failed to bark it back to any of them … until we came to the next to the last house at the end of a long street.  This German Shepherd was going absolutely berserk:  incessantly barking, jumping up and down on its hind legs, and scratching frantically at all the doors.  As we passed I noticed my companion was uncharacteristically quiet and kept looking straight ahead.  The next thing I knew there was a huge “BLAM!” followed by the unmistakable tinkling of shattered glass.  A myriad of shards rained down like glittering diamonds in the noonday sun.  Psycho shepherd had actually busted out the entire front window of his folks’ 1920’s home (ancient by Dallas standards) and it is one of the few times in my life I have ever been truly scared; only the second time ever with an animal.  I have been a professional petsitter for over sixteen years now.  Once I even regularly walked a very aggressive Chow who wound up mauling his own owner!  The guy required surgery.  Anyway, Bruiser and I both quickened our steps and I was worried I would have to scoop him up for fear he would get seriously hurt.  I didn’t relish the thought of getting bitten or ripped to shreds myself.  The shepherd stayed put (thank heaven) and I found myself hoping it wasn’t hurt by the all glass.  Meanwhile the wide-eyed postal carrier was so unglued he skipped delivery to about half the block.  I stifled an unbidden giggle at the thought of the age old battle between dogs and the mail.  And I could only imagine what that poor dog’s parents were going to think when they came home.  So I called the police and left my name and number to let them know they were not robbed.  The 911 dispatcher asked if she should send out officers and I told her, “Don’t worry; the house is safe!”