Got rain?

Yes, we do. Lots of it. And personally, I wish it would quit for a while.  I've lost count of how many days in a row we have had pouring-down rain with thunder and lightning.

On the bright side, everything up here looks green and lush (translation: soggy) and all of the ponds are filled to the brim. If a flock of ducks were to land in any of the local ponds, their movement would cause a tsunami.

As always, with this type of rain, the downtown Houston communities get flooded. The local news programs have shown Houston residents rowing down their streets with rubber rafts and kayaks. Being that the Houston weather has been on all the television channels around the country, my cousins and friends up north and out west have been either calling or eMailing me to ask if we're underwater out here.  I've assured them that my husband has not yet built an ark and our property is on a hill with all excess rainwater flowing down into our pond.

There was so much damage to Houston neighborhoods during all these rainstorms that I have to (for the zillionth time) wonder why the City Powers That Be don't get together with engineers and fix those drainage problems. Surely, they can do something to eliminate the homes and businesses from being deluged with four feet of water every time the sky opens up.                                                

With these recent storms, the parking garage of The Galleria (huge and exclusive multi-level shopping complex in downtown Houston) got inundated with flood waters. All of those expensive cars belonging to the Galleria shoppers were ruined, and I'm certain the owners were not at all pleased. Maybe if all those luxury car owners seek out their City Hall representatives, something may get done to fix the flooding problems within the Houston city limits.

Today's rainstorm began at three o'clock this morning.... lightning, thunder, pouring-down rain. By today's first light, the sky was getting blue and the air felt crisp and clear. But I'm not letting this blue sky fool me.... we checked the weather site and by one o'clock this afternoon we should have another good soaking rain.  Oh goodie... I can hardly wait.

 But on the bright side.... the sunflowers that popped up in our flowerbed (from seeds dropped by the birds) are now taller than I am and looking very yellow, and quite beautiful.  As always, whatever goes on in downtown Houston does not affect us out here in this country bubble in the hills.

Got peaches?

Yes, we do.... a lot of them, as a result of our peach-picking morning at the near-by orchards.  The peaches don't all ripen at once, thankfully, but on any given day, we'll have peaches for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  I've already cut some up in salads, and had them for breakfast instead of other fruits.

One thing I will not be doing again with those peaches is trying to make a pie using the recipe I have for Key Lime Pie.  We love Key Lime Pie, and the recipe I use for that is one of the best we've found........ so I thought that possibly, I could use that recipe for a peach pie, by just eliminating all the Key Lime ingredients, and substituting peaches.

It just didn't work. The mixture was too runny, even though I drained the juice from the diced peaches.  And because the mixture wasn't setting correctly, I had to leave it in the oven for too long a time, which over-cooked the graham cracker crust.  When the pie was finally done, it still had more of a pudding consistency, rather than the set-consistency of a really good Key Lime pie.

Oh well. My husband thought the over-done graham cracker crust tasted like a sweet cookie, and he says the peach pie filling tastes like a very creamy pudding... so he's eating it.  As for me, I'm just going to eat the fresh peaches and not try and add more calories to a perfect piece of fruit.

Just whose idea....

....was it to start painting chairs? Okay, it was mine.

The red/white/purple chairs in the breakfast room look so nice (thanks to friend C) that I decided to try painting two small chairs that I had up in the library.  Thankfully, I started just on one of them.... both of those old wooden chairs came from yard sales.  When we lived in Clear Lake, the child-sized chairs were kept on the screen porch, and my cats loved sitting on them. In this house, I put them up in the third floor library, near the bookcases with my collection of children's books. They looked perfect up there, but of course, couldn't compare with my newly-painted chairs here in the breakfast room.

So when I went to Walmart this week, I bought some paint, brushes, foam-circle-things to make polka-dots, and I was determined to make those chairs as happy as the ones that C painted.  Silly me.  I'm not exactly a painter.  Of course, C is a painter and she knows what she's doing with a can of paint and a brush.

I started with the largest of the two chairs.... painted the whole thing white. "Is that your canvas?" my husband wanted to know.  Indeed it was.... I had visions of pink and purple and black, with white polka-dots.  One coat of pink later, it wasn't as pink as I thought it would be.  "You probably need to give that two coats," said my husband.  (Damn, said I.)  Wouldn't you think that a dark pink going over white would take just one coat of paint?

Three coats later.... and the pink paint on that chair is close to my vision of what I thought it would look like.  Then I got started with the purple paint.  The first coat has dried..... it will need a second coat.... and the seat of the chair will probably need three coats of the purple.  At the rate I'm going, it will be mid-June before that chair is ready for the white polka-dots.

My husband noticed some drip-marks in the pink paint of the chair. I explained to him that those drips were there before I started to paint.  "Well, you could have taken some sandpaper and smoothed that over," he said.  Well. I guess I could have done just that. But I didn't think about it. (Where does one learn all of these painting rules?)  My husband suggested that I could still sand it down.  Are you kidding me? And ruin three coats of pink?  (My plan is to put a polka-dot over each of those drip-marks....)

I'm hoping that my pink/purple/white/black chair will look nice when it's finished. At the very worst, I will have wasted some paint, and a whole lot of time.  If the chair really looks un-worthy of my library when I'm done, I will take the sandpaper and sand it all down, polka-dots and all, and then buy a can of flat-white spray paint, spray the heck out of that little chair, and start all over again.

I'm blaming this painting episode on Pinterest.  Everything looks so easy on that site.... do a search on painted chairs.... look at all the pretty possibilities.... buy some paint and brushes.... and voila! What does one have?  A little chair that looks nothing at all like the beautiful painted chairs on Pinterest.

Happy chairs....

I've always had an interest in painted furniture, mainly sparked by the artwork of Mary Engelbreit, the Queen of Color-Combinations.  With Pinterest, there are thousands of ideas and patterns that one could copy, if one were so talented.

I have had a pair of pea-green chairs in the breakfast room for three years now, bought with the intention of re-painting them a bright red, in order to disguise that horrible green. I found those chairs in a thrift shop... fine condition, comfy rattan seats, but just that awful shade of green. But for $12.00 each, I knew that a coat of paint would make them shine.

However... they just never got done, and their pea-green color just stayed the way it was, covered up in part with some pretty pillows. Until last week, when friend C got to talking about painted furniture, in particular, chairs. C is an artist... she can look at something and just know what to do with it, plus she has the talent to bring her imagination to painted life. And... she wanted some chairs to practice on. Well....

I told her about the pea-green chairs, and how I'd love to have them painted red, with maybe some happy polka-dots... something, anything.... except that pea-green color.  C was thrilled.... something to paint!  She put them in the back of her car and off she went.

Yesterday.... C called and asked if she could pop over for a minute. I said of course, not even thinking about the chairs... I just thought she was passing by and wanted to know if I was at home.  When I opened the door and saw her standing there with my beautifully painted chairs, I was speechless.

Gone are those pea-green chairs... they are now red and purple and white, with a black/white checkerboard around the seat, and happy polka-dots on the slats of the chair-backs. Not only do the chairs look brand new and Mary-Engelbreit-whimsical, but the entire ambiance of the breakfast room has changed. Happy, happy, happy............ there is just no other way to describe these gorgeous chairs. I can't stop looking at them, and they're so pretty I don't even want to sit on them, but of course I will sooner or later.

I am inspired to try painting some chairs. I have two child-sized chairs upstairs in the library, sitting near the bookshelves holding my childhood collection of storybooks. Little wooden chairs that had been painted years and years ago, found in a thrift store, and if I could paint them up in bright colors like these two polka-dot chairs, they'll be cuter than ever. I don't know how well I could paint a design, but surely I could paint the slats and rungs and the seats in different colors without needing too much talent.

I will give those two little chairs a try.... I asked C for the brand of paint she used on the previously pea-green chairs.... all I need is a non-humid day, if this rain would ever just quit and go to another part of the state.

Peacock? No. Raccoon? Yes.

We haven't seen Carson (the peacock) since yesterday. We have indeed heard him, and his mating calls sound as if they're coming from down our hill, which means Carson went back to his original owners. He probably missed all the chickens and roosters down there. (Birds of a feather stick together?)  For now, our porch is free of peacock-poop, and once again, our outside cats (the orange cat included) have free run of the yard.  I think the cats were intimidated by the size of Carson. Huge bird he was.... and not to be trifled with. I would imagine that the talons on that peacock would have bested the longest claws of our cats.

So... with the peacock out of the picture.... in comes a raccoon last night who destroyed one of two bird feeders that are in the backyard. I also made the mistake of leaving a bit of cat food out on the porch after dark, thinking that either Gatsby or the orange cat would eat it before midnight. Apparently, they didn't, and the raccoon overturned both the plastic cat food dish and the metal water bowl. Raccoons always make such a mess.

Either before or after devouring the last bits of Meow Mix, the raccoon decided to tackle (literally) the bird feeder, which is on top of a wooden post.  He broke one of the plexi-glass sides of the feeder, bent the fence back a bit, and lost one of the bungee-cords that held the top of the feeder down tight. And, of course, the raccoon feasted on the birdseed.

So now my husband is on a mission. He spent most of the morning watching videos on YouTube to see how other country people manage to keep the raccoons out of the backyard feeders. Thankfully, no one on YouTube has launched a grenade attack.

Off to Home Depot we went.... my husband bought a huge length of PVC pipe that's wide enough to enclose the wooden post which will now hold the new bird feeder that he also bought today.  With raccoon-war in mind, my husband also purchased an electrical thing that will give a shock to any adventurous raccoon who dares to climb that PVC pipe to get to the new feeder.

"Does that thing run on batteries?" I wanted to know.

"No... it has to be plugged in," said my husband.

"Is there an electrical outlet in that flowerbed that I don't know about?" said I.

"No... we'll just use one of those long orange extension cords," said my husband.

I resisted the urge to ask him how long an extension cord that would require.  And, of course, I resisted suggesting that wouldn't it be easier just to move the bird feeder?  Or take it into the garage at night?  He was a man on a mission, and once that happens, there's no stopping him.

On the way back from Home Depot, my husband said he forgot to buy Vaseline. "And what are you going to do with that?"  My husband told me that he was going to slather it all over the PVC pipe so the raccoon couldn't shimmy up to get to the feeder.

Well, if that's the plan, then why get an electric-shock device in the first place that may require a two-hundred-foot extension cord going from one side of the backyard to the other?

Men. They make little problems into big problems. Which is why this world is constantly at war in one corner of the planet or the other.

Feathered house-guest.

We have a new part-time resident on our porch.... a peacock belonging to a neighbor at the bottom of the hill. The neighbor has had the bird for quite some time now, along with all of his chickens and roosters. Seems that the peacock, however, lost some of its tail feathers to a predator. We don't know if it was a dog or a coyote... could even have been a bob-cat or a fox, both of which are seen here from time to time.

I'm thinking that because the peacock had that near-death moment down the hill at his own property, he's not wanting to stay around that part of the hill at the moment. So where did he come?  To our porch, of course.... along with the orange cat (who's still here).

I've been calling the peacock "Carson" (a la Downton Abbey) and when I mentioned that to my cousin F, she said if I should find a penhen, I could call her "Mrs. Hughes."   At the moment, however, I'm not in the market for a female to keep Carson company, and I'm hoping that at some point, Carson will want to go back to his own yard and follow along with the flock of chickens and roosters down there.

For now, however, we have this beautiful peacock (whose tail feathers seem to be growing back)... and he's walking around our backyard deck and roosting on the railings around the porch. And right now as I type, Carson is admiring himself in the windows of the breakfast room while Sweet Pea watches him from the door of the TV room.

The orange cat..... not only does he spend part of his days up here on our porch, but I found out yesterday that he's been 'visiting' two of the neighbors' properties down the road. And both G and B know when he's there because he will walk around their houses and just meow for all he's worth. Which is what exactly what he does up here... he makes sure to let everyone know he's out there and ready for his bowl of Meow Mix.  A very vocal cat, that one.

Well, for now, the orange cat (along with Gatsby and Mickey) are sharing the porch with Carson, the peacock.... who, in fact, has developed a taste for Meow Mix.  I guess I'd better be buying an extra bag of that cat food, just in case Carson does indeed find a lady-friend.

Rain, rain, rain...

It has been raining all day long, at times pouring. The ponds are filled to the brim, and they all look quite pretty. I'm surprised that the ponds aren't filled with ducks, but except for a few white egrets, and a dozen turtles, there's not a duck in sight. And frogs... there must be hundreds of frogs because we can hear them croaking as soon as the sun goes down.

As I type, there are four vultures out by the barn, perched on top of the hay bales. A couple of them are spreading their wings and drying their rain-soaked feathers.  The other two vultures are peering over the edges of the bales, probably waiting to pounce on mice that may have drowned in the deluge this morning. I was watching those birds with the binoculars but then decided that I didn't want to be looking at them if they did start feasting on a small bird or a mouse.

The cats have been sleeping most of the day... except for the moments when the thunder and lightning was the loudest. With one crack of lightning this morning, I fully expected the power to go out, but all that happened was a split-second of dark as the lamp next to the table here went out and then came to life again.

The mailman brought a surprise today... a packet from my friend J in England... she sent me a special section of "The Daily Mail" which is filled with photographs of William and Kate and their new baby girl, Princess Charlotte Elizabeth Diana.  I'm thrilled that they included Diana as part of the baby's name.  I'm sure that there will soon be new books available on the growing family of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. More volumes to add to my collection of books on England and the Royal Family.  God save the Queen. (Now there's something one doesn't hear too often in Texas.)

A critter magnet...

I've decided that I must be a magnet for everything with hooves, claws, scales, wings... anything and everything that can be put into the animal or insect or reptile category out here in the Hill Country.

Case in point:  I went into town this morning... did some errands and stopped at the little bookshop on Main Street. (As if I don't have enough to read, with at least twenty books on my 'waiting to be read' shelf in my library.)

So there I was, happily browsing... and I saw this cute little book on scones and muffins for tea parties. I have two such books already, but the cover of that book was very pretty so I thought I'd have a look.  The fingers of my right hand were just millimeters away from taking that book from the shelf and then I saw it.... a small green lizard, hanging onto the spine of the book and looking sideways at me with those wide eyes of theirs that hardly every blink.

I'm not afraid of lizards... they were the first critter that I had to get used to when we moved to Texas in 1993. Green lizards with non-blinking eyes and pink necks were all over the yard of the little house we rented when we first got to this wildlife and reptile-filled state.  After screaming countless times when I saw them out on the backyard deck years ago, and after explaining to neighbors that no one was actually killing me.... I came to the conclusion that lizards were a part of Texas life, just like BBQ restaurants and western boots. (One quickly learns not to call them 'cowboy' boots.)

Be that as it may.... even though I'm not afraid of lizards, I don't want them near me or on me (and they can and do jump when you surprise them). It took every ounce of self-discipline within me this morning to not scream when I saw that lizard within an eyelash-length from my hand.  I quickly pulled my hand away from that book and that shelf, but it was too late.... I had scared the lizard and he jumped down from the shelf and landed at my feet. And there he sat, looking up at me from the floor. Neither one of us blinked or moved.

As I stood there wondering whether or not to tell the bookshop owner that she had a visitor in her cookbook section, the little green lizard scurried underneath the bookshelf. Fine. Let him be. I didn't say a word to the woman who owns the shop. She's born and raised in this state, anyway, so I doubt if she would have been upset if I'd seen a snake up there on that shelf. (Perish that thought and let's not put those words out into the universe.)

I no longer wanted to look at that book, even though the lizard was now underneath the shelf and nowhere near either the book or me. At that moment, my taste for scones was non-existent, and who knows what that lizard did while he was perched on that book. Had he been eating flies while he was wrapped around the spine of that book? Or worse, had his digestive system just dispelled the remains of the little insects he may have eaten for breakfast? Heaven only knows what detritus he may have left on that pretty little book.

I left the bookshop at that point. The shop's owner knows that I have a library filled with books and I just come in from time to time to browse or buy something that I must read right now, so as I walked towards the door, she just told me to "Have a blest day."

I resisted the urge to tell her that a critter-free day would be even more of a blessing.

Happy feet!

We had a bunch of errands in College Station yesterday, the most important one being a stop at the DSW store. Heaven. Pure heaven. Substantial bliss.  My husband does not usually go clothes or shoe shopping with me. He has no idea what's in my closet, nor does he probably care.

Designer Shoe Warehouse. Picture this:  aisles upon aisles of beautiful shoes.... flats, sandals, wedges, and (sigh) heels. Glorious heels.  I miss wearing high heels every day.... it's just not possible out here because you can never tell when you'll have to walk on grass or gravel or dirt. I have a closet filled with high heels, but with an upcoming wedding to attend, I needed a certain color with some sparkle.

It's been a while since I'd been in DSW... probably since the last time we went to a friend's wedding. I took some time to try on shoes that I knew I wouldn't buy.... peacock-blue heels, bright pink and gold stilettos with bows at the toes.... gloriously beautiful shoes that were more like artwork than footwear.

The little town we live in does not have a shoe store, a fact that I did not take into account when I fell in love with this big old house.  There's a Walmart in town, but that doesn't even come close to being a shoe store.  And we do have a small department store in town, but their selection of shoes is limited to sneakers, flats, sneakers, wedges, sneakers, boots, and kids' shoes. Nothing fancy, nothing with flair, and certainly nothing with sparkles.

My husband waited in the car while I went into DSW. I headed straight for the heels and tried on at least two dozen pairs before settling on two choices. By that time, my husband got tired of waiting in the car and he came into the store.

"Look at all these shoes.... how do you even know where to find what you want?"

That's easy.... I just look at everything.

"Why on earth do women need so many choices?" he wanted to know.

Life is all about having choices, especially with shoes.

I showed my husband the two pairs that I'd picked out.... one sleek and patent-leathery shiny, the other soft and silky and sparkling.  I told him that I would have to buy both pairs.... both would go with my dress for the wedding, but if it happened to be a rainy day, the satin sparkle heels would stay home in the closet and I'd wear the patent-leather heels instead.

"Who in the world even thinks like that?  Do women get shoe-training in school or is that an innate gender-specific characteristic?"

I stood there with my two boxes of beautiful shoes and in a split-second I decided that no matter how smart my husband is, there's just no way on this earth that I could explain the importance of having appropriate shoes for every outfit in my closet.

Finally. After twenty years, I've found a subject that my husband knows nothing about: a woman's love of shoes. Glorious shoes. Heaven. Pure heaven. Substantial bliss.

A new Princess...

William and Kate have a new baby girl today.... don't know what her name will be yet, but I'm hoping that William will manage to have 'Diana' as part of that little girl's name.  I've had the TV on from time to time today, to see if the news from London is being reported by CNN. Not so much... they have been concentrating on the problems in Baltimore.

The earthquake in Nepal has been over-shadowed by Baltimore. One of my cousins has a daughter who lives in the center of Nepal... she and her husband just had a baby about a month ago. They were not injured during the quake, but I'm sure whatever conveniences they have over there are now a distant memory.

Baltimore.... I can't even say that name aloud now without thinking that it's a broken city which needs a lot of tender loving care at the moment.