My Mom's Happy Birthday In Eugene Oregon With My Texas Swimming Birthday Suit

You are looking at me and my mom and dad. In Yuma, Arizona, Christmas Day, a few years ago.

Today, 68 years ago, my mom had a happy birthday when her oldest baby was born, in Eugene, Oregon.

A few days ago a package arrived from my mom and dad. I had it on my to-do list to call my mom today, after I opened that package, but before I could do that mom called me, this morning.

I wished mom a happy birthday, told her I'd not opened the package yet. Said I would call later, after I had opened the package.

After I talked to my mom I got a comment to the earlier blogging about this being my Happy 68th Birthday. The comment was from Anonymous, claiming to be a relative of mine.

This is what Anonymous said...

Enjoy your 68th birthday, it just seems like you turned 56 a year ago, however....either way you are still one of my oldest (and for sure, wisest) living relatives.

To which I counter-commented....

Anonymous, you are a relative impostor. Your impostor-ness made obvious due to the fact that none of my living relatives think I'm wise. And, very kind of you to point out that I've aged 12 years since last year's calculation of my age.

To which Anonymous counter-counter-commented...

It takes a wise relative to recognize a wiser one!

When I got the Anonymous comment I saw the comment was made when someone who's IP address registers as Oak Harbor, Washington, was on the blog.

So, when I called my mom to thank her for the singing card, shirts, and other stuff, I asked what relative of ours lives in the Oak Harbor zone, or on Whidbey Island. The only names my mom came up with were very improbable perpetrators of the Anonymous comment. I asked my mom who among our relatives could possibly think me wise? My mom agreed that it seemed very far-fetched that such a relative existed.

Continuing with the birthday blogging theme. Today I've gotten some Happy Birthday messages delivered in electronic form other than a telephonic device.

The running theme seems to be me and my birthday suit. Tess S asked, "What about your birthday suit? Bev L asked, "What color is your birthday suit?" CVB suggested, "Now you can really take a swim in your birthday suit." Alice O asked, "Is it birthday suit all day? Covers eyes 'n giggles."

In addition to swimming in my birthday suit it's been suggested I get a massage to relieve my extreme tensions, go see a movie, veg out watching TV all day, while eating bon bons, go out for lunch, go out for dinner, I forget what else.

Thank y'all for the suggestions. As you can see I heeded the birthday suit swim suggestion. While snorkeling. In addition to the birthday suit swimming I went out for lunch. I have not had any bon bons, nor will I. I'm really not all that certain I know what a bon bon is.

I need to go back outside and brave the 106 degree Heat Index. I will not be able to wear my birthday suit on this particular outdoor operation as it involves going into a place of business that would frown upon someone being way too comfortable in the HEAT.

Having Myself A Happy 68th Birthday In Flat Texas

I am up early, again, on this, the second Wednesday of August. I know you are wondering if the picture is the view from my patio, this morning, as I sit outside, in the pre-dawn morning chill, of 81 degrees, drinking coffee.

I wish that was my patio view, but, sadly, no matter what direction I look from my current location I will see neither a mountain or a waterfall.

What you are looking at, in the picture, is Mount Rainier, with the top of Myrtle Falls in the foreground. Mount Rainier is a mountain in Washington. The tallest. It's the only iconic image on the Washington license plate, unlike the Texas plate which is cluttered with a lot of little images, some of which make sense to me.

In about 7 hours it will be exactly 2 years since I last saw Mount Rainier up close. I can remember this precisely because 2 years ago, today, on my birthday, I went to Mount Rainier. It does not seem like it can already be 2 years since I nearly fell to my death from a ladder on Mount Rainier, well, more accurately, from a ladder very near to Mount Rainier.

The latch I was holding on to broke loose, sending me, nearly, falling backwards.

So, today I turn 68. I really don't feel that old, I feel older. I do my age calculation by adding my chronological age to how old I feel to how old I look and then divide by 3 to arrive at today's age of 68.

The feeling old is coming from I'm being very sore, in a decrepit sort of way. Sore muscles, and my feet are aching. Like I'm thinking what the joints and bones in my feet and knees are aching like is what old people mean when they say their rheumatism is acting up.

Now that I'm a Senior Citizen I'm getting what old folks mean when they say getting old is not easy. And don't get me started on the trauma of my hair falling out. It's constantly annoying. At least it hasn't gone gray yet, so I suppose I should be grateful for that.

That's me and my Mount Rainier Happy Birthday date, Janet, on the left, in the picture, with Mount Rainier behind us. I've aged so much in 2 years I don't think I could convince a young lady, like Janet, to go up a mountain with me anymore.

But, there are plenty of old ladies out there who might be willing to go up a mountain with a 68 year old geezer. If only there were any mountains within a 300 mile range of my current forlorn location.

I have no idea what is ahead of me today, on my hopefully happy, 68th birthday.

Except, for being fairly certain, in a few minutes, I will be swimming. After that, who knows?

Chesapeake Retreats From Mad As Hell Texans

A few hours ago I got an email from Don Young about tonight's Fort Worth City Council meeting. A meeting where Mayor Mike Moncrief and the 8 city council members were going to have to decide if they were going to once more allow Chesapeake Energy, and a few greedy mineral rights owners, to destroy another neighborhood.

Or, for the first time, "Just Say NO" to irresponsible drilling.

At this latest instance, even the Fort Worth Star-Telegram disapproved of Chesapeake's latest attempted over-reaching incursion, this time between the historic African-American neighborhood of Como and the upscale Ridglea neighborhood and shopping district.

Don Young suggested citizens show up at 6 for tonight's city council meeting to let the mayor and the city council know we are going into total Howard Bealish, MAD AS HELL and NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANYMORE, mode.

Well, apparently, somehow tone-deaf Chesapeake Energy managed to hear the message that the tide is turning against them.

Chesapeake's Minister of Propaganda, Julie Wilson, sent the following....

Dear Mayor Moncrief and Council Members:

Chesapeake respectfully withdraws our application for four wells on the proposed Westridge site located at 3900 Bryant Irvin Road . While we have the support and encouragement of hundreds of mineral owners who could have their minerals produced from this site, it is clear to us the majority of Council does not support our request for a waiver In absence of that support we feel the most responsible action is to withdraw.

Thank you.

Julie H. Wilson
Vice President - Urban Development
Chesapeake Energy

I love how a well-trained propagandist practices her art. Claiming Chesapeake has the support and encouragement of hundreds of mineral owners who could have had their minerals produced from the proposed site.

Really?

Could Propaganda Minister Wilson please tell us how it is she learned Chesapeake has the support of 100s of mineral owners?

Is mineral, in this instance, a euphemism for shale?

Minerals aren't produced from these wells, are they?

Shale is not extracted, is it?

No.

Holes are drilled, then chemically contaminated water is injected into the mineral to release natural gas.

Natural gas is not a mineral is it?

Has the United Way of Tarrant County wised up and dissociated itself from Chesapeake Energy's Minister of Propaganda yet? I usually give at least a dime. If United Way does not dump that woman they are not getting my dime.

Taking Richard Nixon's Advice To Sit On A Village Creek Picnic Table

You are sitting on a picnic table, looking east at the Village Creek Natural Historic Area Bayou, sometime between 11 and noon.

I got up a bit on the early side, before 5, got all my daily aerobicizing needs met swimming before the sun had totally finished lighting up the place.

All morning long I churned out webpages. Til I could take it no more.

A couple months ago I read Richard Nixon's "In the Arena." Good book, full of good stuff. With good advice from Mr. Nixon. That he learned after he had to quit being President for some suspected bad behaviors.

Mr. Nixon's bits of advice were based on his experiences learned while recovering from losing his president job. Things like go on a walk every day. Set aside time to read every day. And, my favorite, spend time every day quietly contemplating that which you need to contemplate.

I felt in need of some contemplation time and a Village Creek picnic table seemed like a good spot for it. I was under the shade of a tree, with a nice breeze occasionally blowing.

I lasted maybe 20 minutes before I tired of quietly contemplating and got off the picnic table to continue walking.

And then drove back here where I am now contemplating having lunch.

Up Early Thinking About Sleeping Walking and Strawberries While Visiting Laredo and McAllen

Up well before dawn's crack this 10th day of August. I think I'll be visiting the pool really early this morning. The moon seems to have gone missing again, which makes the dark darker than when the moon is doing its glowing thing.

I suffered epic cinematic nightmares last night. I can't remember the specifics, except I was erroneously in BIG trouble, but I rescued myself from the BIG trouble multiple times, using my impeccable logic in the face of crazy talk.

I've no clue which of my personal traumas my sub-conscious was trying to deal with by showing me that epic cinematic nightmare last night. All I know, for sure, is I woke up refreshed.

I forgot to mention, I had another sleep walking incident. Recently on Kathy Griffin's My Life on the D-List much amusement was had due to Tom's Ambien sleep aid caused sleep walking. I take no sleep aid, but I had similar results to Tom.

As in, apparently I got up, got into a piece of whole wheat bread and cheese and then proceeded to walk around dropping pieces of bread and cheese. Near as I can re-construct the crime, after I was done making a mess with bread and cheese I picked up my TV's remote control from the TV viewing room and moved it to the top of the chest of drawers in my closet.

I hope I did not spend too much time in my closest clicking the remote hoping to turn on a chest of drawers.

I did not go to bed early last night, though I probably should have. I had had me a day, and if that day did not already have me tired enough, in the afternoon I took a virtual trip down to McAllen and Laredo.

I knew what to expect with Laredo, what with it being paired with its bigger half of Nuevo Laredo, I figured this would be a heavily Tex-Mex type of town. But, I had no idea that McAllen is a bit of a tropical paradise, known as the City of Palms, due to all its palm trees. Citrus grows in the McAllen zone of the Rio Grande Valley.

When the grapefruit are ripe for the picking you can go pick some at a place by McAllen called Eggers Acres. The Eggers family runs a citrus market. Grandpa Eggers developed the Ruby Red Grapefruit. McAllen reminds me of the Yuma, Arizona citrus growing zone, with lush tropical vegetation and parrots and parakeets added.

I think may virtually go to San Marcos today, checking out Aquarena Springs, again, on my way to Poteet, where I want to find out the truth regarding something I read yesterday, that being that Poteet, the Strawberry Capital of Texas, has to bring in strawberries from California for the hugely popular annual Poteet Strawberry Festival.

California strawberries? They are terrible. Poteet should import strawberries from the Skagit Valley of Washington. They actually taste like strawberries, unlike those strawberry-essence, red cardboard, genetically altered to ship well, sad excuses for strawberries that California grows way too many of.

HOT Tandy Hill Hiking Today While Drinking Heavily

It is 97.9 out there, right now, with 35% humidity making for a HEAT INDEX of 103. I was slightly cooler when I hiked the Tandy Hills today around noon.

That's the new highway through Tandy Hill's Emerald Forest, looking north, in the picture.

I am now up to 6 bottles of water on my Hot Hill Hiking Excursions. Each bottle holds 16.9 ounces. That seems like a lot of water.

I wish we'd get to the dry desert type HEAT, with no humidity. If you're in Death Valley at 120, you drink constantly, do not sweat, do not need restroom stops. Now that is pleasant heat.

I know we never get to zero Death Valley-like no humidity here, but the air can get drier. I'm sure I remember correctly that the heat did not feel as HOT as this summer's HEAT feels.

Change of the HOT subject to something cool. The other day my Phoenix sister mentioned jello having become one of her help with the heat enjoyments. I'd not had jello in years. I've never really cared for it. Or the odd things people do with jello, or stick in jello.

So, after my sister mentioned jello to me I opened a cupboard and what do I see? Four boxes of jello. two Mandarin orange, one white grape, one lime. I made a Mandarin orange/lime batch of jello. For awhile I thought I'd screwed up what seemed to be a very simple thing to make, because when I'd move the container, containing the jello, it seemed to still be liquid. By the next day I figured out that what I thought was liquid was jello jiggling.

It turns out my sister was right. Jello is a nice refreshing heat antidote. Particularly topped with vanilla yogurt.

I'm heading out in the HEAT again. Armed with more bottles of water. And a HOT attitude.

The World Has Nacogdoches Texas To Thank For The Marx Brothers

Very early in the last century, some say it was 1907, some say it happened as late as 1917, but, regardless of the imprecision regarding the date, it is fairly universally acknowledged that an event occurred in Nacogdoches out in the Piney Woods Region of East Texas, that turned the Marx Brothers into their own special brand of improvised comic genius.

Before the Marx Brothers got to Texas they'd been just one more Vaudeville act, with their main focus being on music, with a few lame jokes thrown in.

And then in the middle of a matinee performance in the Nacogdoches Opera House and Theater, someone ran into the theater, interrupting the Marx Brothers performance, to shout the news that a runaway mule was rampaging down the street in front of the theater.

The theater emptied as the locals went to watch the spectacle of the runaway mule. The Marx Brothers followed. Eventually the locals made it back to their seats.

Groucho was now very grouchy. To vent his aggravation Groucho started making fun of Nacogdoches and its boorish, provincial people. Groucho had broken totally from their canned performance and was in full ad lib mode. The Marx Brothers as the world came to know them were born.

Groucho continued into his next song. A sentimental one that had previously contained one of their most important dramatic moments. But, this time Groucho changed the lyrics. He sang, "Nacogdoches is full of roaches." The aggravation diffused, and now having fun butchering one of their songs, at the next pause Groucho said, "The jack-ass is the finest flower of Tex-ass."

The Texans were not insulted, instead they loved it. The Marx Brothers were a hit. This event was so memorable, in Nagodoches history, that an historical marker, commemorating the start of the Marx Brothers, is in downtown Nacogdoches at the site of the opera house and theater.

In 1826 the Fredonia uprising rebelled against Mexico and set up the Republic of Fredonia in the territory surrounding Nacogdoches. Years later, in 1933, the Marx Brothers paid homage to Nacogdoches in their movie Duck Soup, naming the mythical kingdom in the movie, Freedonia.

Now, I have never found the Marx Brothers movies all that funny. And Groucho's adlibs that launched the Marx Brothers seem a bit mediocre to me. But, Groucho, later, solo, was very funny, like on You Bet Your Life, where his ad lib mastery was famously on display. And in interviews, like with Dick Cavett.

Groucho Marx was a very funny guy. And we have Texas to thank for aggravating Groucho enough to release his inner funny man.

Wreaking Havoc With My Texas Routine With HOT Swimming

I am really jumbling up my predictable pattern this second Monday of August. Usually I take a picture of the morning coffee drinking view from my patio, blog the picture, and end the blogging by saying I'm going swimming now.

But this morning I decided to get real radical and take the morning patio view, then go swimming and after the swimming blog about the morning view from my patio.

This massive change in my routine feels absolutely liberating.

The temperature of the pool water was noticeably warmer than the air temperature this morning. This would be a good thing if the air temperature were 60. Or 70. But not when it's 82.

If we hit 100 today it will be the 9th day in a row, according to both the Dallas Morning News and the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. In one of the local papers, well, the online version of one of the local papers, there was mention made of possible incoming storm in a few days. The Fort Worth Forecast below does not seem to indicate any possible incoming storming. Except for today.

In Texas Looking At Photos Of The Woolley Wedding Of The Year

I was all prepared to attend the Woolley Wedding of the Year, but an invitation never arrived. I was so disappointed, because, like I think I said before, there are very few things I enjoy more than going to a wedding.

Especially if potential weather drama is involved.

And there was plenty of weather drama, apparently, in Western Washington, yesterday, with the first rain in awhile causing the roads to be slick and generate a lot of accidents.

I have not received any news as to how the weather treated yesterday's Woolley Wedding of the Year. But the new mother-in-law, Betty Jo Bouvier, did send me photos of the event to which I was not invited.

That is the bride, Elizabeth on the left, next to groom, Adam, and I believe that is the backside of Betty Jo we are seeing on the right. The photos had no captions so I can only guess about these things.

Texas Turned Me Into An African-American Female

I am almost 100% certain that I've mentioned previously that when I got my first Texas driver's license that the State of Texas turned me into a female.

I was quite a few months into my Texas exile when I finally got around to getting a Texas driver's license. Well, more than a few months, more like a year.

I arrived in Texas about a week before Christmas, a year later I had to make a winter return to Washington, via car. I was getting ready to go roller blading at Bear Creek Park in Keller when I opened the envelope containing my new driver's license. I looked at it, all seemed fine, til I saw the part that said SEX: F.

At first I feared this meant I'd failed sex, some obscure part of the bizarre Texas driving test that I'd not made note of. But then it was fairly obvious to me that whoever filled out my info took a look at me and mistook my girly looks for being a girl. And labeled me an "F".

This would have been no big deal, except for the fact I was taking off in the morning on a roadtrip to Washington. This new driver's license could make a cop stop interesting. But, since I really do not get stopped very often, I was not too concerned.

I would have been a tad more concerned had I known what I was to learn upon my return, when I went to the Texas driver's license place to straighten out the mess. There the license lady looked up my record and asked me to lean forward so she could whisper, "it says here you are African-American, you aren't are you?"

I was fairly certain I was not African-American, so I said no. I did not know that they put "extra" info on your record that does not show up on your license. For all I know I am still African-American on my Texas license record. This could possibly explain the Fort Worth cop's surly attitude when he gave me a ticket (thrown out) for driving without wearing a seatbelt.

The nice Texas driver's license lady let me keep the driver's license that gave me a sex change, after she snipped off a corner. I don't know why she had to do that.

I managed to drive to Washington, and back, without a cop incident where I had to explain why I was acting like a male when my license clearly indicates I'm a female.

In Washington I got a big party benefit due to my Texas license giving me girl cred. I was staying at my sister's in Kent. She was having an all-girl Christmas Party. With 30 or 40 girls. I was allowed to stay for the party if I acted as the greeter, showing my Texas driver's license to prove my bonafides as a legit attendee at an all-girl party.

It was a fun party. I think some of those girls were confused and were acting real nice to me because they felt sorry for me for being such a homely girl with an unfortunately ungirly sounding voice.