Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Sunshine on my shoulder makes me happy

I keep turning around looking for them, but I've seen very few warm sunbeams beating away at my shoulder lately. The first song young Annie ever heard when she got into the car with her parents on that gorgeous October day back in 1978 was John Denver's "Sunshine." Annie lives in Seattle.

Yesterday, I learned that Seattle is working on a moisture record. So far, the city is lacking just ten days of matching its record number of consecutive days with rain, set back in the '50s. They're saying it's possible that record could fall, like the rain, with the unsettled weather patterns coming in from the ocean.

Well, during last week's deluge, a trip to Wal Mart and the purchase of that "really bright" yellow paint took temporary care of my rain-soaked mental state. Willie noted last night, when he came to spend the night, that the bathroom definitely was bright. I made no apologies, saying it's my bathroom and that mustard yellow hue does help me feel more alive first thing in the morning.

Its effect is wearing off, though, so Annie and I have done something more to help our gray moods. We've planned a trip to deep in the heart of Texas with my mother. We'll have to wait for a while for it to happen, but as each new torrent rolls in from the West over the next several days, we can switch our brain remotes to the channel where visions of dusty Texas back roads or thoughts of a San Antonio arena where bigtime rodeo cowboys (maybe even our friend Rowdy) are performing will help us forget the wet misery.

We'll go to Austin and know we're in football blueblood country where "Hook 'em Horns" has truer meaning than ever since last week's national college championship where Texas surprised the heck out of USC (sorry Janis). We'll meet our cousin Brendan, who's an accomplished writer, and his family. I might even get in a visit with a couple of former students who live and work in Austin.

In between relaxing at a downtown Marriott in San Antonio, we'll visit the Catholic boarding school, called Ursuline Academy, where Mother attended grade school back in the late 1920s. And, we'll probably enjoy a Sunday brunch at the Gunter Hotel where her Aunt Anna Douglas lived while Mother was enrolled in the school. Of course, we'll do that beautiful river walk.

We'll travel the Texas Hill Country, and we'll go down to Nueces Canyon where my current Appaloosa Journal interviewee Joe Cox makes his Texas Classic Stirrups at a local saddle shop. It will be fun to meet Joe and listen face-to-face to some of his stories of life as a foreman and horse trainer on Texas ranches.

Best of all, three generations of our family will come together, allowing Mother to reflect on her Texas past, which happened a long, long time ago. We'll enjoy being together, and we'll all enjoy whatever amount of brightness and warmth that big Texas sun wants to bestow on us during our travels.

Thinking of this upcoming experience for the next few weeks of potentially dreary weather will definitely make me happy. For now, however, I'm gonna go outside and ford our new extensive but temporary lake front property to feed the horses.

3 comments:

Word Tosser said...

yes, walking in to our yellow bathroom makes me feel like sunshine. And days like today, I sure to need that.

Bay Views said...

I am 67 years old. My last journalism class was in 1956.

I have only recently found the desire to write. It seems that when I sit down at the keyboard, with an idea, the words seem to flow without much effort.

I would really appreciate, since you are after all, a retired jounalism teacher, any tips you might be willing to share...Aside from the fact that I use to many commas, which I can't seem to break.

Herb

MLove said...

Holler any time you have a question, Herb. If I can't answer it, I'll find the answer.
Marianne