No Ordinary Saturday

It's quiet tonight; the wind outside is cold and making short shuffling sounds with the leaves on the deck.  The fire in the fireplace has been on all afternoon so I hardly notice the soft hissing sounds it makes.  We almost always take the week after Christmas off to regroup and plan for the new year.  This year, we took the time off and made a quick trip to Texas which was wonderful.  It was good to be back for a while and good to spend some quality time together.  Today we sat down and discussed the new year and all the things we want to do in it.

Funny, isn't it?  Today was really just another Saturday not all that different from last Saturday or the Saturday before that - except that today was the first day of a new year, a new decade even.  Something about that distinction makes many of us stop and take notice.  It's a time to review what you've done, where you've been, where you want to go and what you want to do. Thinking about those things on this Saturday recharges our batteries and opens our eyes even wider to the possibilities that lie ahead.  Whatever bad happened before this Saturday gets chalked up to experience and tossed out with last year's stuff.  We'll take only the lessons learned into 2011and happily move forward, thank you very much! 

For me, it's a great time to throw out the excess, clear out the clutter, slap new ideas on the table, redesign my entire agenda - personal and professional - and make an action plan.  It's not likely that I'll achieve all I set out to but that's okay.  I'm grateful that I continue to have new dreams and a decent amount of energy, drive and determination to get me as close as possible to them. 

I love adventure and I'm convinced that holding on to that adventurous nature keeps me feeling alive.  I have lots of dreams - of working again in the homeless ministry, of finishing the books we have started, of working alongside Mike designing dinnerware and linens and other gift products and of creating a health and wellness center for this community that will provide all types of specialty care by visiting providers and a wide range of preventative care programs for chronic illnesses.  Of writing in a little studio adjacent to my tiny chicken house where feather footed chickens stay busy looking for bugs that wander over from the garden.   Are all these dreams achievable?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  But either way, they're still my dreams.

A famous ad man once said, "when you're through changing, you're through."  And in marketing, that's very true - you have to keep moving and evolving to keep up.  I think the same is true in our personal quest to be all we can be.  When you stop dreaming, what's left?  

So here's to 2011 - and all your fabulous, outrageous dreams.  May they all come as close to reality as possible - and may you keep replacing them with new ones all the time.

Look at these sweet faces. Three beautiful little girls who shouldn't have a care in the world. But these three precious faces are just a tiny fraction of the children left orphans in the devastating Haiti earthquake. The picture was taken by my assistant, Misty, a remarkable young woman with an MBA who fell in love with a sweet man from Fort Sumner, married him and moved here a few years ago.

For five years straight, Misty has made an annual trek to Haiti where she spends a week doing mission work in various orphanages there. After the earthquake this year, she feared she wouldn't be allowed into the country - but at the last minute, both she and her new husband, Tim, were cleared to go. For six days, Misty, Tim, and 32 other volunteers worked with the children; holding them, reading them stories, playing games and just providing some loving comfort to them during this difficult time.

I'm so proud to know them both. They've taken the time out of their lives, spending precious vacation time from work -  to do something that really matters - something that really makes a difference.

Another dear friend, Pat, who has been at Leanin' Tree almost as long as Mike, just returned from Afghanistan where she spent more than a week helping to rebuild homes and lives in a war torn land. Pat is another of my heroes. She made the effort to do something - to make a difference in someones life. To make it better.

We've  had the good fortune to meet and get to know a lot of folks over the years - some regular and a good many famous by most standards.  There were many who were insanely wealthy  and spent thousands of dollars to maintain their status quo. But I can honestly say that of all the actors, artists and corporate giants we've rubbed shoulders with, none have left the lasting impression that Pat, Misty and Tim have.

I admire them and long to be more like them - they are my heroes.

A Sweet Whisper

Jessie Boone is a little firecracker of a girl. Last March, Jessie, then 15, went on a ski trip to Colorado with her youth group from church. She lost control on a run and hit a tree, cracking open her skull and forever changing her life and the life of hundreds of people who love her.

Jessie was airlifted to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit in Grand Junction where she stayed for the next three months. For the first few weeks, she lay in a deep coma with two sides of her skull removed in an effort to control the brain swelling. Her tiny body fought one infection after another until she was finally stable enough to be flown to a rehab hospital in Oklahoma.

Many weeks later, her parents were told Jessie was ready to move on to a long term care facility where therapy could continue or they could take her home and arrange for therapists to make home visits. Jessie's parents, Lisa and Bill, knew she would do much better in her own home. Lisa, an RN who worked for Hospice, left her job to stay home and manage Jessie recovery.

Just before Christmas, after months of therapies, Jessie was able to crawl up the stairs to her bedroom. It was grueling but exciting. Several times, she's been able to eat small amounts of food and keep it down - YEAH! And one Sunday morning, she sat at the kitchen bar and "helped" her dad make sourdough biscuits - probably the best biscuits that family ever had. While being helped to her bedroom one night, she sort of steered her drivers into the family office and sat down at the computer. She looked at the keyboard for a while, then tried to type something. Her vision is still very impaired which made it impossible for her to type anything but the doctors are hopeful it will get better as her brain heals.

But then last week, there was a biggie baby step. Jessie hasn't been able to speak since the accident, which was heartbreaking for her parents. Then last Saturday night, Lisa leaned close to Jessie's face to kiss her goodnight and as she pulled away, in a soft sweet whisper, Jessie said Mom. Lisa ran to get Bill and asked Jessie to say it again. And she did.

Now that, my friends, is pure God given joy.

The Return of the Chickenman

Four decades ago, thousands of young men and women, some only 18, left their home country to fight a war in Viet Nam. They would spend up to a year or more in a land where most of the population didn't want them there which was bad enough but upon returning home, they were met with disdain and disgust - all for doing what they were ordered to do.

The bonds soldiers form is strong; they become brothers in arms, standing strong and banding together to get the job done and go home safe and sound. Some do - some don't.


The soldiers came home sporadically and returned to their home states where they tried to move back into their lives. Again, some were able and others were not. Most lost contact with each other when they tried to put that part of their lives behind them.


Mike was the company "artist" while he was there and designed the Company's patch. Their call sign was Chickenman. When he wasn't drawing the Chickenman, Mike spent a lot of time doing caricatures of his buddies and cartoons about their sparse conditions and a few with political slants.


Several months ago, a message popped up on our email from one of Mike's army buddies about a reunion he was planning for the A-Co. 227th. A website was set up, a place and date were set and the few guys who had found each other started looking for the rest of them. One by one by one, the A-Company 227th of the First Cav Division started connecting with long lost brothers. And next week, many of them will gather in Branson, Missouri, where they will see each other for the first time in over 40 years.


It's been such a treat for me to watch Mike's excitement every time another call comes in. He connected with is best friend from back then, Joe Joe who lives in Vegas now and another of their running buddies, Pete, from Alabama. These three rarely let a week go by without calling each other and when they do, the laughter is loud and long.


I'm going along for the ride and boy, what a ride it's bound to be!

I love Fall. It sneaks in behind a soft summer day and suddenly the morning has a snap to it that you aren't expecting. The air seems clearer; the sky seems bluer (is that a word?) and waves of orange and yellow leaves lay in surprising designs on the ground. There's an undefinable joy in the crunch of big colorful leaves underfoot. It's the perfect way to close out the blur of summer with its endless activities.

One day, down the road, I dream of having a smallish writing studio in the trees where my little dog, Angus, and I will wander outside on just such a Fall morning. Angie will find a comfortable pillow on the well worn overstuffed chair that sits in the corner next to a stack of books and magazines. I might just sit next to him with my laptop and pick up where I left off the day before on a book chapter . . . an article that is nearing the deadline for submission . . . or maybe I'll just spend the morning doing Internet research to support a cause I've decided to write a story about. It's the freedom of thought that makes the writing worthwhile - significant because it found me - not the other way around.

That day will come because I know that's what God has planned for me. I've known it for years but I've also known the path to get there would be long, rocky and winding. That's okay because making the journey will make me a better writer. At least I believe it makes me a better person for finding my way over the obstacles and around the corners - and if I am a writer from the heart, my stories will have more substance and authenticity. Some days - like today . . . I can hardly wait.

Dream On

Just along the road that follows the canal and separates what we consider "town" from the lush, green fields of the valley, sits this gi-normous stucco building. It's three stories tall; there are no coverings on any of the many, huge window openings; half the wooden frame roof is gone and it's most likely filled with more critters than one could imagine. But I just love it.

When I have occasion to drive by it, I slow way down and stare at the solid-as-a-rock structure and imagine the stories it could tell. I'd have to guess that in it's day, it was a huge feel mill or maybe a lumber company. The years have taken their toll but considering how old it is, it still stands perfectly straight and square. I can imagine a lovely loft home on the second floor, with sweeping views of the countryside from the way oversized windows ... a huge, gallery coop downstairs with artist's studios and exhibit space; maybe a coffee shop/wine bar and eating areas outside. I'm not sure what a person would do with the third floor - but I'm sure I'll think of something.

I hope the dreamer in me is always the strongest, most active part. How dull life would be otherwise.

This is my new treadmill. The "good life" has been a little too good to me lately. Mike found a new love in gourmet cooking a couple of months ago and I'm living proof that he never does anything halfway. He's a perfectionist and does everything fabulous . . . including baking bread, making green chili stew and a host of other wonderful but not-that-healthy entrees.

So today, we've made a pact that until we can both lose at least 15 lbs., he needs to be using his creative juices to paint, sculpt, build or design - in a non-edible medium.

The search is on for a reasonable, easy to follow and easy to prepare diet plan suited for middle aged adults who have a history of "falling off the wagon" when the food isn't that good. I'll keep you posted on what we find. I'm leaning toward a Mediterranean diet but we may just do portion control and moderate calorie counting.

The biggest change will be exercise. We wore out our treadmill about 8 months ago so we're going to have to use the actual road. But hey, the scenery is much better out there and thank Heavens, in New Mexico we won't be fainting from the humidity!

It's the night before day 1.

Prayers for Jessie Boone

I've had lots of arguments with God - always because things just aren't going the way I want them to. I have one plan and he has another one and with time, I always learn that His plan is divine and mine is not. His wisdom is perfect and mine . . . well, its silly in comparison.

Three years ago, almost to the day, I was spending my nights in Chicago Children's Hospital by my three year old granddaughter's bedside. She was in a very deep induced coma, battling for her life after going through major surgery to put a shunt in her abdomen. Literally three weeks later, she was able to go home and today she's a happy, healthy six year old. Needless to say, God and I had lots of conversations over that three week period. I pleaded with Him - tried to make deals with Him - surrendered everything to Him - and finally had to trust Him. It didn't come easy and without the prayers and support of family and friends, I don't know how we would have made it through.

The picture above is Jessica Boone. She's a beautiful 15 year old from Yukon, Oklahoma and the granddaughter to one of our dearest friends, Lee Henry. Jessica was on a spring break ski trip with her church youth group to Glenwood Springs, Colorado. Last Monday, while skiing, she hit an icy patch, lost conrol and hit a tree. She suffered a severe head injury and is in critical condition at St. Mary's Hospital in Grand Junction.

The remarkable thing about Jessica Boone and her family is their complete and unteathered trust in God. The family has established an update page for Jessica at Carepages.com where her mom, Lisa, posts daily updates and hundreds of visitors have left uplifting messages. I urge you to go to this site and set up a user name and password - then just search for Jessica Boone.

As you follow Jessie's progress, your own spirit of hope will be restored.

I can remember quite vividly asking God to send Angels to comfort Keeli and to strengthen us during that very difficult time three years ago. I'd close my eyes and envision beautiful Angels circling Keeli's bed in the middle of the night when the only sounds in the room were the many machines that monitored every vital sign. You never really fall totally asleep during those nights because the slightest change in rythem in any one of those machines could be devastating.

Now, when I read Lisa's updates and the many words of encouragement posted there, it's clear to me that God has sent a huge host of Angels for Jessie.

Please remember Jessie and her family in your prayers and visit her Carepages sight to check on her progress. Trust me - you're the one who will come away feeling blessed.

Bella the Wonder Dog

After months of dry weather, we're enjoying the booming noise of a thunderstorm. I love thunderstorms but they really scare our border collie, Maggie.

Tonight is the first thunderstorm we've experienced since we acquired Bella (above) and so far, she seems totally unphased. But then, after what she's been through, a thunderstorm is nothing.

Last fall, the Nurse Practitioner at the clinic where I work, arrived one morning in near hysteria after one of her terminal patients told her about some dogs that had been left chained up with no food or water. It seems the owners were relatives of hers; two young girls who had left town about two weeks prior. This particular patient was too fragile to do anything so she asked Kay for help. Kay had patients waiting so we called Mike - who immediately headed over to check it out.

The house definitely looked abandoned. Outside, near the gravel road, Mike found a skinny, skittish, but friendly border collie mix tied to a tree. The dog was filthy and hungry. Someone had left some water but there was no sign of any food so Mike left a big bowl of food and figured he'd check on her every day until the owners returned.

Then we found out the owners had no intention of returning - they had moved. And there were supposedly two more dogs there. One had been left inside the house and another was chained up near a shed somewhere in the vast backyard of overgrown weeds.

Back Mike went to find the other two. The one inside was easy to get to since the doors were practically falling off their hinges. She was a younger dog, probably 9 months old or so and was in fairly good shape.

So now to figure out if there really was a living being in the lean-to that was barely visable through the tall jungle of growth outback. Mike was navigating toward the shelter when he heard something. Looking up, he saw a heavy motorcycle chain fastened to a eye bolt at the top of the shed. As he got closer, the chain moved slightly so he knew there was an animal attached to the other end. He figured it must be a pretty big animal judging from the size of the chain.

Imagine his surprise when he rounded the last corner of weed-jungle and found a nearly hairless creature that stood no more than a foot tall staring back at him. Her body was low to the ground with legs about 4" long. She looked like a Corgi crossed with a German Shepherd that had been crossed with a weinie dog.

Along her back was a 2" ridge of what looked like tiny black eggs ribboning down her spine. Her ears and eyes had similar clusters and her belly was covered with them. They looked like tightly compacted fly eggs. She was, after all, surrounded by her own feces and had dug a den in the dirt to escape the summer's heat. A few feet away lay another chain, this one empty. We would later learn that the dog kept there had died from starvation.

The small dog growled at Mike, daring him to come near her - which he didn't. He threw some food in her direction and while she ate, he filled her water bowl. Every day for two weeks, Mike went over to feed her, talking to her and finally - she trusted him enough to let him touch her.

In the meantime, with the sheriff's blessing, we were able to take the other two dogs to the local groomer. She bathed them and treated them for fleas and ticks and one Sunday, we drove them 160 miles to a no-kill shelter.

The following Monday, we headed over to get the little Corgi. As we started toward the shed with a leash, two Mexican men, presumably a father and son, came charging out of the house and demanded to know what we were doing. My heart leaped into my throat as we turned to face them. The father looked to be in his forties, had tattoos on both arms, wore a muscle shirt and looked at us curiously. The son had tattoos on his face and bald head, wore low rider pants with chains hanging from his pockets and looked at us suspiciously. Needless to say, they were pretty intimidating.

We explained that one of the doctor's patients had asked us to take care of these dogs because they had been left with no food or water for a long time. The father claimed he knew nothing about any dogs being kept there while the younger man strutted around and insisted the dog that was chained up would be just fine.

Mike was calm - though I could tell his blood was boiling. He said if it was all the same to them, we'd take the remaining dog and get her medical help since she appeared to be covered with parasites. I think the dad realized they could get in trouble for animal abuse so he finally relented and let us take her - but they watched our every move as we carried her back to the truck.

Never in all my life have I seen anything like what this animal had. As soon as I lifted her out of the backseat, thousands of ticks fell onto the seat and started crawling around- and I do mean thousands! All those tiny eggs were seed ticks and they were everywhere. We put our other dogs in the house and led her to a stoop in the backyard to bathe her. Mike went to the feed store and got every treatment they made for ticks and parasites.

Armed with heavy duty rubber gloves and a water hose, I started scrubbing the tightly attached ticks off her body. Her back turned deep red where the ticks were scraped away. It took two hours and I cried all the way through it. When it was done, she had almost no hair and was bleeding from the thousands of bites. I called our Vet tech daughter, Christi, and asked her if I should just have the dog put down. She assured me it would be okay but it would take time and patience to get her through it. I wasn't sure I had the stomach for it but Mike insisted that he'd made a promise to this little dog that we'd stick with her - so we did.

Standing there, looking at this pitiful creature, I decided she needed a name. We decided on Bella, which means beautiful. We figured we could at least give her a pretty name.

Over the next few weeks, Bella's coat grew back long, thick and shiny. Ruger, our Rott/Lab cross and Bella acted like they were old buddies - soul mates reunited. They play non-stop every day. She loves dog biscuits, but not rawhide chewies and has a strange gait when she runs. She sleeps on the floor next to Mike's side of the bed and knows where he is most of the time. She ignores the cats and finds a place to hide when neighbors or workers are here.

Today when the storm rolled in, Bella fell asleep on the floor near the fireplace and I thought about the many storms she's weathered in her short life. I can't stand to think about what her life would be like if we hadn't found her - or what our lives would be like without her in it.

Voter Number 36

When I first moved to New Mexico ten months ago, my physical self came willingly but I had to drag my spirit along kicking and screaming. Southern born and southern bred, I thought I was back in Texas to stay after spending many years living all over the rest of the country.

Then just as the economy started it's slow dive into the toilet, I got a truly wonderful job offer that, as it turned out, was more blessed than I could have imagined. Of course, the economic dive into the toilet was also much deeper than any of us could have imagined.

At any rate - the move was a good one - a smart one - and I'm grateful to be here. We've lived in lots of small towns over the years but I have to admit this one is a real charmer.

Our son-in-law is running for the school board so I went by the courthouse to vote yesterday. I was voter number 36. The clerk who helped me was very nice. In between banter with her five year old granddaughter, who was darting around in the office, she laid out all the paperwork I would need to officially - and very secretively cast my vote (like she didn't know who I was going to vote for). It involved a very large ballot and multiple envelopes. After I'd filled out all my personal information in her presence, she directed me to a small table at the far end of the clerk's office with a shield around it.

Once I'd cast my secret vote, carefully folded the ballot in two places, sealed it in the first envelope, put that in the second envelope and sealed it, I walked the nine steps back to the counter and handed the entire package to her. She wrote the date and time on the outside and handed it back to me. She then led me to the official black plastic ballot receiving box that was about three feet away. As I dropped my very secret vote into the padlocked box, I was confident that no one in the clerk's office would have guessed that I voted for my son-in-law.

I left the courthouse bound for the school gym to watch my grandson play in a basketball game. As I parked the car, I thought about the different direction my life has taken in the last ten months. I run the only medical facility in the entire county so I've been blessed to get to know a good number of people in our community. I see them in our lobby, on their way to our lab or xray department or in the dental office. They'll pop into my office and visit or some just wave as they go by. It's a good feeling and I like it.

I still miss my Southern roots - but I've discovered New Mexico sunrises and sunsets which are like nothing I've ever seen before. But more importantly, I've found the deep sense of community that comes from not just living in a small town but participating in the life that goes on there.

Lost in remodeling Hell

Ripping out kitchens, painting bathrooms, tearing out carpet, laying tile and hanging blinds and window treatments. It seems like I'm always doing those things no matter where I'm living or what I'm doing professionally. We just seem to be perpetual re modelers!

Two houses ago, we swore we were done with the whole fixer-upper life but that was before we realized we'd be moving to Fort Sumner, New Mexico. It's a wonderful little town and I mean this honestly - the nicest people live here. We've lived in lots of communities but we've not lived in an area this genuinely friendly since Nashville, Indiana.

However, the housing market here stinks. There's very little available and what does come up for sale is in dire need of updating. The house we bought has no central heat and air (which we're putting in), very, very old windows (a next spring project), carpet that truly had to be replaced and all kind so of other issues we're dealing with one at a time.

Our hope for a minor update/remodel has turned into quite the upheaval. It's all good though - we will get through this sooner or later!

In the meantime, I'm getting more comfortable with my job though I'll be learning for a very long time! It's been a challenge. In the first two months, the Medical Director quit which doesn't sound that awful unless you realize the magnitude of hiring a new doctor in a remote, rural community 60 miles from anywhere. God was watching out for me though and helped me find and convince a well loved doc who worked here before that it was time for him to come back. That was nothing short of a miracle.

Mike has been working his fingers to the bone on this house and is about to go crazy with no studio set up. We went to Hobby Lobby yesterday and he bought two gi-hugic canvases. He was so excited to get them home and start setting up a painting area. Not sure what he'll be painting on them - but I'm sure it will be spectacular.

The new t-shirt line is close to being ready to come out. It's the same "Back Forty" line we had before except this time it will be featured in fancy smancy gift boxes that look like t-shirts. There are 30 designs instead of 12 and we doing some fun PR for them.

I do love my job but some days I miss having the time to do as much of Mike's business as I used to - and I do dearly miss writing. I worry that if I don't get back in the habit of writing everyday, I'll lose my voice and that would break my heart.

Once the house is done - we're both back to our creative ways!

Jesus, take the wheel . . . before I run off the road

Man . . . how time flies when you're having fun . . . or maybe it's just that time flies by faster when you're working full-time and trying to figure out what the heck you're doing.

After living out of suitcases and sleeping on Staci's couch for almost two months, we finally got her little rent house in town livable. It's nice and cozy and I'm truly grateful to have a closet to hang my clothes in and a bed to sleep on. So don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining.

But, I must admit that living apart from Mike is hard. I went home over the July 4th weekend and had a really wonderful visit. Our home there is so peaceful and comfortable. It has that southern style warmth that makes you want to kick back and read a good book or watch an old movie. The dogs are relaxed and lazy there and the cats act like we're invading their space by being back. It's just homey.

I still love my new job but I must admit there are more and more challenges the longer I'm there and that's a good thing. It's never dull and the staff is still the best I've ever worked with and that's the truth.

We may have our house sold to a great couple from Austin. I think all of us will be better once the papers are signed and the moving can begin. This constant limbo state wears on your psyche and on your nerves. Will they get their loan? Will we get ours? Should we just keep the Texas house and lease it out or would that be selfish and foolish since we could use a good part of the equity to pay off some bills? Is this house in New Mexico really the one we should buy? It's not my dream house, that's for sure. But it is a nice house that doesn't need a ton of work before we can move in. Should we just rent for a while and wait till the right place does come up for sale?

Too many questions and not enough information to get the answers. Once again, I reckon it's time to let go and let God. Man, that's a tough call for this type A gal.

Day Three: Changing the view

Yesterday was interesting since Joy, my mentor and the departing CEO, was out of the office which gave me a day to go through files, review past board minutes, etc. I also sat in on a Quality Assurance meeting with the entire staff, which was productive and refreshingly upbeat. The day sped by.

The job is perfect. I couldn't ask for a better group of people to work with or a better cause to work for. Living arrangements - now that's a different story. In such a small community, there simply aren't very many properties available and the few that are for sale aren't big enough to accommodate our needs.

So, today I'll revisit a property we considered buying last year before we found the place in Red Rock. It's a grand old Spanish house that was built in the 40's or 50's by the guy who owned the local lumber company here. So it has pretty good bones. Years and years of neglect have taken a toll though and just making the place livable will be a super human feat. The stucco is cracked, there are foundation issues, roof leaks have rotted the ceilings in part of the house and destroyed what was a beautiful wood floor in others. The kitchen has to be gutted and redone and a new source of heat and air conditioning has to be installed. Other than that, it's a beautiful old place that could be absolutely perfect when it's done.

The question is, do we want to tackle that? And would it be smart? Oh, and it's literally two blocks from the clinic! It's been a year since I looked at it so I'll look at it with different eyes today since our lives are in a different place this time.

Come to think of it, I'm looking at a lot of things with different eyes these days.

Day Two: Home Sweet Home

Whew . . . yesterday was my first official day on my new job. It was everything I expected it to be - exciting, scary, overwhelming, interesting and exhausting. Joy, the departing CEO, is an excellent teacher but about 3:30, we both looked at each other and knew we were operating on information overload and it was time to stop for the day.

I met and re-met all the staff yesterday. What a great bunch! Mostly female, all age groups and a wide range of ethnicity adds a certain richness that's priceless. Thanks to Joy's leadership, each department runs itself while seamlessly working together as one big team. I am so impressed with the scope of services and how driven the teams are to provide better quality care. Plus, they're just really nice people.

My life has taken on whole new dimensions. Having a set work schedule is new for me but welcome. Trying to complete projects for several clients often had me working well past midnight and on weekends - now I work 8 to 5 - Monday through Friday. A great thing. I actually GET PAID for vacation time - an awesome concept I haven't had in years. Plus, for the first time in six years, we have health insurance with a deductible that won't break the bank, excellent copays and only have to pay 40% of the premium. In this day and age, that's every bit as important as salary. So, it's all good.

There are a few downsides to moving to the desert from the tropics - like chapped lips, extra dry skin and dry eyes. Of course, hairspray is ridiculous in New Mexico winds so forget that. If you love lush yards and lots of vegetation like we do, you'll spend a lot of time looking up native plants on the Internet. Not a lot of evergreens around and in fact, not a lot of any greens around. But if anyone can make a yard out of a pad of dirt, I know Mike can.

Oh, and I got a post office box yesterday so I could fill out my paperwork at the office. I realized when I started the process that I was, at that moment, virtually homeless. I'm sleeping on my daughter's sofa and living out of a suitcase so I really didn't have an address.

But I do now! It's a modest little box in a big neighborhood of tidy little boxes that line the walls of a pink brick building downtown. For now, that's my address and I'm right proud of it.

Day One: Butta has landed.

The family calls my car, a cream colored Chrysler 300C, Butta. When I first got it, I kept saying how it had a ride as smooth as butta - so the name stuck. Butta is the only familiar thing in my world right now.

When I got into Clovis last night, I stopped in Walmart to pick up a few personal items before heading to Fort Sumner, sixty miles away. The sun was shining, it was 78 degrees and breezy when I went inside. Twenty minutes later when I gathered my purchases to leave, I was confronted with 55 miles an hour winds blowing red dirt like fine pellets across the parking lot and the temperature had fallen to 68 (the windchill had to be in the 30's). I nearly froze in my light denim capris and three dollar flip flops as I ran through the "dirty rain" looking for my car.

An hour later when I pulled into Staci's driveway, the wind was blowing even stronger. No one was home so I wrestled my bags out of the trunk and finally got them over the gravel yard (not a good platform for bags on wheels) and into the house. I had to find some warmer clothes and socks!

Kolt and Johni came home about fifteen minutes later and that lifted my spirits some. But the truth is, I was terribly lonely for Michael and nothing was going to fix that. The anxiety and even some apprehension about this new chapter of our lives was a bit overwhelming.

I'm excited about my new job - concerned about finding a new home in this very different environment - torn about whether or not to sell our home in Texas - happy to have an opportunity to be a bigger part of Staci's children's lives - sad about not being an hour away from having lunch with my girlfriends and a host of other things that just keep running through my mind.

I chose not to go to church with the family this morning so I could have some quiet time with God to ask for wisdom, patience and comfort. Then, I'm going into to my new "hometown" to look around and take some photos of houses for sale to send to Mike. I also need to take a look at Staci's rent house since that's where I'll be staying for the next month or so, until we find something more permanent.

It's a beautiful day for it. Nice and cool and a soft breeze - but I'm clear about one thing. That could change in a heartbeat.

We're packing our panties AGAIN!

Great news! I got the job. I leave on Saturday, my car packed with the essentials to start work on Monday as the CEO of a rural medical clinic in eastern New Mexico. I am genuinely excited, honored and overwhelmed at the opportunity.

The first few months will be a bit strained since Mike will stay here to finish up his paintings for Leanin' Tree while I stay with our daughter and her family in Fort Sumner and begin my new position. We'll decide later whether or not to sell our lovely new home here right way or wait until the housing market improves. We don't do well apart so if we don't sell, we will rent there and close this place down until we're ready to put it on the market.

Talk about change. Here, it's hot, humid, lush, green, foresty and hilly. There, its hot during the day but cool at nights (good thing), very low humidity (another good thing), some green, flat and deserty. Here, we have no snow. There they do. We're 18 miles from shopping here - 60 from major shopping there. So there will be some adjusting to manage but after all the moving we've done in our lives, I expect it to be relatively easy.

This blog will likely become more of a journal over the next few months as we both deal with our new roles. Mike, who has been lovingly spoiled by me in many ways will now have to "batch it," paying these household bills and doing kitchen duty alone. In return, I've been just as lovingly spoiled and will have to open my own wine, figure out what to have for dinner since Mike usually cooks 4 or 5 times a week. I'll also have to learn to sleep without the rhythmic sound of his breathing next to me, something I find very comforting.

Our porch time sharing will be via cell phones or instant messaging. We're both sure we'll get through it just fine.

I went shopping today for a few new outfits since my current work wardrobe consists of sweat pants or shorts and old tee shirts. For some reason, it seemed like everything I tried on was tighter than it used to be. I only purchased a couple of things because once I'm there, I'll have to take off at least 10 lbs. With money tight and two households to support for a while, I can't afford a whole new set of fat clothes!

Life really, really is a journey so we're "packing our panties," as Mike's mother used to say - and headin' out.

Life's crazy little curve balls....

My goodness, life does throw us some curves! Just when you think you're all settled into a routine . . . everything changes. Big time.



Last summer, after many conversations about the sagging economy, our own financial health, the ever escalating cost of living and the unpredictable nature of being self employed - we decided to make some changes to our lifestyle (especially if we had any hopes of retiring before we're 90!). One option was to invest everything we had into a wine bar/art gallery/upscale deli business in our local community. It was a great idea and our business plan indicated it could become a very thriving business - if we had the necessary capital to do it right, up front.



We quickly realized we would have to go into major debt to get the business up and running and in these uncertain times, that just wasn't an option. The other more practical option was for me to go back to work full time, hopefully in a position that included health and retirement benefits - not to mention a steady, predictable paycheck.



I honestly enjoy working so I had no problem pounding the pavement (or surfing the web), sending out resumes, etc. I soon found out that it was me and about a cazillion other professionals looking for the same kind of job in a town full of college graduates who will work for anything just to stay in Austin. The market is literally flooded with well trained, highly educated people all vying for the same positions.



Then last Tuesday afternoon, my cell phone rang while I was running errands in town. The lady on the other end was asking me if I could make an interview at 5:00 p.m. the next day . . . in New Mexico! I didn't hesitate. Yes, I told her, I could definitely be there - and I was. I met with some terrific folks about a perfect job. Now the wait begins to see if they liked me as much as I liked them!



.....to be continued

Grand Kids Vs. Wild

It was Calin vs. Wild today when he and the three other visiting grand kids spent the morning fishing and exploring the fruits of spring. He caught this lizard who seemed to take a liking to Calin and spent the better part of two hours on his shirt or his head while Calin dreamed up all kinds of reasons for keeping him. He didn't win, of course and we supervised the laid back lizard's return to the front shrubbery.

It was a sign of the seasons though. Yesterday, Kolt, our 14 year old grandson from New Mexico, went to the far side of the front pond to fish and got lucky after about 15 minutes. When he walked down to the bank to release his catch, he was startled by a gigantic Diamond Back water snake that dove into the water just a few feet from him. Kolt jumped about four feet up and back, yelling all the way. At first we were concerned it was a Cottonmouth which can be deadly. But, today Mike spotted the fat reptile on the far bank again and got his binoculars out to study it closer. Of course, this was AFTER he had loaded his 22 in case it was in fact a Cottonmouth. After 15 minutes of magnified examination compared to the descriptions and pictures online, we're 99% sure it's a Diamond Back water snake which is nonvenomous. That's the good news. The bad news is that it's so fat because it's eating our fish!

Regardless of what it is, the fishing activities have been contained to this side of the pond. But I have to say that Kolt's brief and distant encounter with ole Diamond Back has certainly

made his "what I did on spring break" story have endless possibilities.

Tonight we sat around the dinner table telling both sets of kids funny stories about their parents when they were young. One day, they'll tell their kids about the summer they spent with Sugar and Pa when Kolt literally sat down next to a huge snake commenced fishing. By that time, the snake will be Anaconda size!

I wouldn't trade these moments for anything!

Spring Break at the Y-ME

Spring always brings with it a list of projects that need to be done and this year is no different. We've been wishing for a small fishing dock on the front pond for months so last Saturday, we conned Christi and her partner, Tina, into coming over and helping us build one.

It went together surprisingly fast! The only good thing about the lack of rain over the last few months is that the water level is down so we were able to set the posts without too big a mess. Anyway, by mid afternoon, the little dock was built and ready for paint (which will happen this weekend!). And just in time for the grandkids visit during spring break, too.

I'll post pictures when it's completely done.

We got some great news from our T-shirt company a couple of days ago. They've had twelve shirts in their line for a year now and they've decided to almost triple that amount! We spent the morning sorting through the images, uploading the ones they already know they want and outlining the top 50 best sellers so they can pick the rest of the line. Tedious work but well worth the time. The Mountain - the T-shirt manufacturer - does a knock-out job of packaging for their shirts and Mike's line (called the Back Forty) will have it's own rack. Pretty darn cool!

Spring is springing

Spring is always such a welcome relief from the drearies of winter, though our friends who live in the mountains of the northwest would argue that we never really have winter down here. There's something about spring mornings and evenings that seems to breath new life into everything. The birds and frogs are louder, the new grass is greener and the new leaves on the trees are greener still. The aroma in the air from the flowering trees is intoxicating and makes yard work seem like holiday fare. The heat of July will bring us back into reality in that department!

It's also one of the busiest times for us. New Leanin' Tree paintings are going in the studio and new art is being pulled, evaluated, captioned and selected for the t-shirt line, the Back 40. This year, we've added even more projects - like writing two books and getting the online store stocked and marketed.

It's fun and exciting and demanding and chaotic. Just getting everything we have to do in some kind of doable order is a challenge. Mike, obviously, is the only one who can do the paintings so he's safe from a lot of the hum drum stuff like scanning, sizing, and cataloging the art. But he still has to cut and prepare boards for the new pieces, sketch them on paper and then sketch them again on the boards - so I guess you could say we each have our share of routine work.

It can all be pretty overwhelming. But there's nothing better for clearing your mind than cranking up the old riding lawn mower and mowing for an hour or crawling around a flower bed, pulling weeds. It's just you, God and nature.

Works every time.