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Change

Change is on the horizon for us. Our girl is planning on transferring to the University of Houston this fall. She could commute, but she wants the experience of living on her own, even if it’s in the slightly more protected environment of a dorm, rather than an apartment.

It’s so strange thinking of her being somewhere else, rather than down the hall from our room. I can remember going into her room at night when she was a little thing. I’d stand next to her crib, and later her bed, holding my breath so I could see the gentle rise and fall of her little back as she slept. When she was a toddler and a little older, she would sleep with us sometimes. I remember wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close to me, because I knew then that time passes quickly and opportunities to snuggle with my only child would eventually disappear.

Now she is a good three or four inches taller than me, and those opportunities have long passed. Sometimes when she walks past me, I grab her for a hug and hold on tight. She laughs and starts to pull away and I say, “I’m not done yet.” So she lets me hug her a little longer and for that split moment, I remember what it felt like to snuggle with my baby girl on those quiet nights years ago.

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Our Sweet Evelyn May

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The Three Musketeers…or Stooges. You decide.

We have always loved our furry babies. In the 24 years that my husband and I have been married, we have never been without pets. Our babies have added so much joy and laughter to our family. It’s never easy when our journey together ends.

The photo above was taken about five years ago. I love it, though, because it’s such a perfect illustration of our dogs and their relationships with each other. Hurley Monroe, the golden, is my husband’s baby and this shows her laid-back, even tempered nature. She just goes with the flow and doesn’t let anything upset her. Sweetie, the chihuahua, is mine. She’s independent, and her pose in this photo shows that. What she doesn’t let on is that she’s actually very affectionate and loves attention, in spite of her independence. Sweetie will turn eleven in June, and Hurley will turn eleven in September. It’s hard to believe they’ve been part of our family for so many years.

The little girl lying across Hurley’s back, though. That little girl is who I hope to honor today. Evelyn May was Sweetie’s daughter, but her father was a Yorkshire Terrier. Evelyn inherited her mama’s big ears and soulful eyes. Her fur was this crazy long/short business – long yorkie hairs randomly popping up from shorter chihuahua-like hairs, and all yorkie markings. Her birth was a science lesson – our daughter watching her come into this world, and immediately wanting to keep her. We couldn’t say no to the roly-poly little pudge ball.

Sweetie was a good mama, and Hurley would fill in for her in a pinch. I can still see Evelyn rolling over on her back so Hurley could groom her if Sweetie wasn’t nearby. It was the craziest thing I’d ever seen. The pups truly seemed to love each other, playing with each other and on more than one occasion, I’d discover Evelyn using Hurley like a bed, and Hurley peacefully obliging.

My girl adored that spoiled little dog and they had the joy of each other’s love for almost nine years. A few weeks ago, though, Evelyn began to have some health problems and preliminary tests indicated an enlarged heart and issues with her spleen. If that weren’t bad enough, there were also indicators of cancer. We hoped, really hoped she would get better, even if to have her with us just a little longer, but when she couldn’t keep her food down, we knew our time with her was at an end.

I was incredibly proud when my girl made the hard, but right decision. She let her beloved Evelyn go. She was with her when she was born, and she loved her as she left this world. I don’t have any scriptural backup for it, but I just can’t help but think that our beloved pets are waiting for us in heaven. I’d like to think Evelyn and my Australian shepherd, Sydney, are waiting for us – running in a spring meadow with lots of other dogs waiting for their families, too.

I miss you, Evelyn May.

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Jami and her sweet Evelyn May.
Posted on by Laura Jinkins · 1 Comment

The Bee’s Knees

. . . or not. My poor knees took a beating again on Saturday. You would think someone who started out this life with the surname of “Swan” would have at least a smidgen of grace, a scintilla of coordination.

Nope.

My first recollection of being truly klutzy goes back to my freshman year in high school, when we lived on the island. I remember some of the sidewalks being wooden at Country Day School, and this particular day it was drizzling, so the wood was slick. Down I went, and when my knee made contact, I lost a good chunk of flesh. So much so that I have a scar there to this day. Of course, it didn’t help that I tripped and busted open the same knee in the same spot a few weeks later. No wonder there’s a scar.

I don’t remember any pratfalls after that one for a long time. That doesn’t mean there weren’t any. I just don’t remember them. I do remember, in vivid detail, the last four years’ “adventures in grace (or lack thereof),” though.

Christmas Eve 2011: For a short time, I cleaned house for a family who purchased a weekend place at Hideaway on the Gulf. I’d sold them window coverings for the house, and when they asked if I knew a trustworthy housekeeper to make the place ready whenever they headed this way, I volunteered for the job. It was hard work. The house was three stories and the owner was very particular about how it was cleaned, even though it appeared spotless before I picked up a dust cloth. When I finished cleaning this time, I looked out to the canal and thought, “I’d love a view like this. No one’s here. I think I’ll enjoy it for a few minutes.” I started to walk over to the boat slip, only to find the ground disappear from beneath my feet. There was a step down from where I’d been standing, and I hadn’t realized it. Faster than I could cry out, I landed hard on my hands and knees.

Of course, I did what anyone else in my situation would do: I looked around quickly to make sure none of the neighbors had been outside to see my embarrassing embrace with the earth. As soon as I verified there were no witnesses to my humiliation, I let out a yelp. It took me a few minutes to collect myself. Gingerly, I got up, hobbled over to my car and decided the view wasn’t nearly as lovely as I’d originally thought.

February 2012: Not even two months later — we had a grand plan to take our girl and several of her friends to see Riverdance at the Hobby Center in Houston. Because my sister was working that day, I drove over to Angleton to pick my niece up so she could come with us. It was a grey, drizzly day. I went into the office, signed her out, and we headed back to the car for an evening of Italian food at the Spaghetti Warehouse, followed by the amazing dancers from Ireland.

I don’t even know how it happened. One second we were walking away from the front doors of Angleton High School, and the next, my umbrella went flying and I lost a shoe. BAM! Both knees crashing to the pavement again, but this time I had a witness. Krista gasped, and immediately moved to help me up. I probably would have stayed there a few minutes except it was starting to rain harder, so I made myself get up and hobble to my car once again.

For a while, I thought I’d really messed my knees up. The right one would feel “sloppy” when I went up and down the steps between my kitchen and laundry room. I finally went to an orthopedic doctor, who did x-rays and determined they were just badly bruised, and it would take between six and eight months for them to fully recover. I committed myself to walk more carefully.

January 2015: Good things can’t last forever, can they? Sitting at the kitchen table late one night, I decided a cup of tea would be the ticket while I finished working on something. The problem? I forgot about a big plastic tub of Christmas decorations behind my chair. When I stood up and turned to go into the kitchen, I fell right across it! And this time I didn’t get my hands under me, so I fell flat on the floor from head to toe. Jami came stumbling into the kitchen — she’d been asleep, but apparently when a tree falls in the forest (or when Mom falls in the kitchen), it does make a sound. Since I was becoming accustomed to this, I waved her off. “I’m fine. Go back to bed. See you in the morning.”

And that brings us to this past Saturday, March 12, 2016:

My sister and I are in the process of deciding what to do with the house we inherited from our mother last year. We’ve been going over there as often as possible to clean it out and get things ready to list it on the market. The flooring needs to be replaced, so Saturday my sister and nephew pulled a lot of the old stuff up earlier in the day before I arrived. They left to run an errand and I thought, “I can get this piece in the dining area. I’ll pull up this area rug, and then I’ll get that tool and get the sheet vinyl up, easy peasy.”

HA.

The area rug came up easy enough on one side, but I figured I needed to go to the other side to finish rolling it up. My darling husband, who was dressed in nice clothes after attending a memorial service, had stopped by to see how we were doing. And of course, he got to witness yet another dazzling performance by my graceful self. As I stepped toward the other side of the rug, I do not have a clue how it happened, but I know that I fell on that concrete slab — knees and hands, just like the day at the house on the canal.

I did not even try to retain  my dignity. I think I said a colorful word. And then I started crying. And once he checked to make sure I hadn’t broken anything, he did a very good job of holding back his laughter at the 52-year-old woman sitting in the middle of the floor crying like a big ol’ baby. Finally, he held out his hand and said, “Come on, get up, let’s call it a night.”

I had a pretty good run between 2012 and 2016 . . . hoping I can have another trip-free run for a few years. This is getting old, and so am I.

 

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Trigger Finger

I knew it was going to happen. At some point in time, I’d be too quick to punch the wrong button on the answering machine, and accidentally delete one or both of the two messages left by my mama a few months ago. Earlier this morning we had to have our well worked on, and that required turning off the breaker. When I walked past my answering machine, I saw the red light flashing and when I pushed “Play,” the machine announced “Time and Date Must Be Set.”

The messages started playing and my too quick finger punched the “Delete” button, rather than the “Stop” button. And I immediately realized what I’d done.

I haven’t listened to the messages that often, because it makes me sad and miss her so much when I hear her say “I love you” at the end. Fortunately, I still have a message and I’m about to record it with the “voice memo” feature on my phone. I’ll save it to my computer, and then to a flash drive. It may seem weird, but the message is so perfectly her and I don’t want to lose it, too. Calling to see if I’d heard from my sister (who was in New York at the time) and wrapping it up by saying “I love you.”

I used to get frustrated because she would call me to see if I knew what was going on with Angie. I would say, “Mama, just call Angie!” and she would tell me she didn’t want to disturb her if she was working or sleeping or otherwise busy.

I would love to hear her ask me what is going on with my sister today.

Posted on by Laura Jinkins · 6 Comments

Letting Go

So earlier this afternoon I did the unthinkable – I made an airline reservation for my sweet girl to go visit her aunt in a few weeks.  I, of my own free will, paid good money to put my girl on an airplane – WITHOUT ME.

I think I may need drugs, hard liquor, or both to get through those five days.

I’m kidding.  Really.

REALLY.

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Kicking and Screaming . . .

but not really.

I’ve been going through photos for a “graduates” slide show that will play during the home school graduation ceremony in May.  I have to narrow it down to 13 photographs that will display while the audience hears a recorded message from me and AJ to Jami.  It is SO hard to narrow 18 years down to 13 photos.  And I haven’t even begun to write the message yet (which cannot be any longer than 90 seconds — thankfully, I can talk pretty fast, so I should be able to squeeze a lot in).

Since she’s going to community college for a year or two, it’s not like she’ll be leaving home the day after she graduates.  But I am still having a hard time with this!  I want to set the clock back, but that’s not the way life goes.  And I’ll be okay later.  But for right now, I do feel like kicking and screaming (quietly).

One of my favorite photos of my girl.
One of my favorite photos of my girl.
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100 Things About Me, Part 1

I’ve been spending the last few days cleaning up my computer.  Through an “accident,” I ended up with two user accounts on my computer.  I decided to utilize this accident, and add a third account to compartmentalize all my interests.  So I have “business,” “photography,” and “writing” sections on my computer.  While I was moving things around from section to section, I found this and found it pretty entertaining.  I’ll work on posting the second half another day.

  1. I was born in a Texas town that celebrated its 200th birthday long before the United States Bicentennial.
  2. I love the color blue in all its various shades.
  3. I lived in the Virgin Islands for almost 15 months when I was in high school.
  4. The two times I’ve flown to Pennsylvania, my flight has been cancelled and I’ve been stranded there.
  5. I learned calligraphy when I was in high school.
  6. I drove the teacher to distraction because I sat Indian-style in the chair.  She emphasized good posture to achieve the best results.
  7. She was distracted because I proved her wrong by being a very good calligrapher.
  8. I hate the humidity of the part of Texas where I live.
  9. I’d like to live somewhere that enjoyed four seasons, but it will have to be within the Texas state lines.
  10. I have a large freckle to the right (my right) side of my nose.  In junior high, I took a modeling class through J.C. Penney’s, and the teacher thought it was a bit of foundation that I hadn’t blended in properly.
  11. I fancied myself a writer when I was younger.  My first “work” was a pitiful little story about the Bishop’s Palace in Galveston.
  12. I won an honorable mention in the Houston Post Scholastic Writing Awards competition in 8th grade.
  13. Lynn Ashby presented the awards and I got his autograph.
  14. I won third place in the same contest my senior year in high school.
  15. Leon Hale presented the awards and I got his autograph, too.
  16. I learned to scuba dive when I was 15 years old.
  17. Diving over the Cane Bay Wall in St. Croix, I almost gave my dad a heart attack when he saw my regulator float out of my mouth as we swam along.  I grabbed it, cleared it, and kept on going.
  18. I find scuba diving very relaxing (and thus have to concentrate on not letting that regulator float out of my mouth…)
  19. The deepest I’ve ever dove was 80 feet off the Cane Bay Wall, which drops to more than 2,000 feet from the surface.
  20. St. Croix is probably the one place that I would consider living, outside of Texas.
  21. I took Creative Writing my junior and senior years in high school.
  22. The second time I took it was when my physics teacher advised me to drop his class.  I ran to the counselor’s office to return to my favorite class.
  23. I was the editor of the literary magazine that year.
  24. I had a ridiculous crush on the same boy from 8th grade through my freshman year in college.  Thank God for unanswered prayers.
  25. When I was a child, I had a play house with real glass windows.  Three of us were playing together and two of us ran in and locked the door.  My friend tapped on the window with a stick right when the other child pressed his face against the glass.  The window broke and cut his forehead.  I thought it was my fault.
  26. I also had a Schwinn bike with a banana seat and tall handlebars.  The same friend who busted the window in the playhouse gave her sister a ride on my bike.  The sister caught her toe in the spokes, cutting it badly.  I thought that was my fault, too.
  27. I planned to be a school teacher until I realized that I would probably end up in prison for hurting someone’s “baby” for misbehaving.
  28. I’ve been to Arkansas, Louisiana, Missouri, Tennessee, Illinois, Kentucky, South Carolina, Florida, Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Washington State, Oregon, Montana, Wyoming, South Dakota, Colorado, New Mexico, plus British Columbia.  Granted, I only changed planes in Florida, North Carolina, and Oregon, and I touched my toes in Illinois and Kentucky on a driving trip, but I have been there!
  29. I love photography.
  30. I have five cameras that were purchased specifically for me.
  31. I also have a 1980 Olympic commemorative Canon 35mm that belonged to my grandfather.
  32. I enjoy scrapbooking, but have a difficult time finding time to do it.
  33. I used to teach scrapbooking classes.
  34. I would like to start cross stitching more.  I used to cross stitch a lot, but haven’t in a while.
  35. I was a perpetual student in college.  From August 1982 to graduation August 1986, I only sat out one summer session to go on a family trip.
  36. I earned my Associates Degree in 2 years — 62 credits were required, but I graduated with 83 credits.
  37. I transferred to Sam Houston State University and earned my B.A. (English major/History minor) in 2 more years.
  38. One of my great great grandfathers was named in honor of Robert E. Lee.  His first name was “Jeneral” and his middle name was “Lee”.  My middle name is Lee, too.
  39. I met my husband on the phone, initially.  Several weeks later I met him in a bar when I went dancing with some friends.  I didn’t make the connection between the person I spoke to briefly on the phone and the person I met in the bar until we’d been dating several weeks.
  40. We dated two years and broke up.
  41. After four years apart, our paths crossed again and we married eleven months later.
  42. I am glad our paths crossed again.
  43. My first job out of college was working as a circulation supervisor for Texas A&M at Galveston’s library.
  44. They did not charge late fees on overdue books and the stack of missing books was ridiculous.  I put a hold on all the records of those students with overdue books.  The graduating seniors hated me!
  45. I retrieved approximately 2/3 of the missing books and collected payment for the books that were never found.
  46. My then boyfriend (now husband) nicknamed me “Conan the Librarian”.
  47. After six months, I changed jobs and spent two years working in the rare book and archives collection of The University of Texas Medical Branch in Galveston.
  48. Then I got a REAL job.  I became a legal secretary for one of the big three law firms in Houston and made good money.
  49. And realized quickly that money isn’t everything.
  50. When my husband and I had been married for four years, our daughter was born and I quit my job when she turned one year old.
Posted on by Laura Jinkins

My Heart

This girl stole my heart from the moment I saw her 18 years ago....
This girl stole my heart from the moment I saw her 18 years ago….

When I first learned I was going to be a mom, I went into shock/panic mode.  I’d never really been around babies or even small children, other than my younger sister — and there was such a wide age gap, that I was busy with high school things while she was in her little kid years.  It wasn’t until my sister was probably 12 or 13 (and I was 22 or 23) that we really became close.  I didn’t know how to relate to babies or small children.  What does one talk about?  How do you play “baby dolls”?  I always had my nose stuck in a book throughout my childhood, so I was clueless on how one interacts with small ones.

I think it was about 3 months into it when I came out of the “Oh my gosh I’m pregnant what am I going to do? I can’t send it back!” phase.  Suddenly, I started getting a little more excited about things, but I tackled it from a very “Oh my gosh we are responsible for this small human being and must only purchase the best of everything” attitude.  And I’m not talking about designer baby clothes.  I’m talking “Has this car seat been tested and approved by NASA?  What ARE the best baby bottles?” and so on.

I was determined that if I was going to be a mother, I was going to be the best mother I could be.  But I was still afraid.  Her daddy, AJ, kept telling me things would be okay.  And even when it came time for her to be born and a c-section became necessary, he sat next to me in the OR holding my hand and telling me it would be okay.

And it was.

She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.  In a nanosecond, I went from being afraid and worried that I might not even like being a mom, to realizing that I would do ANYTHING to protect this beautiful child that God had somehow seen fit to bless me with.

Over the years, I am sure there are some things that I/we could have done better as parents, but overall, I think we did okay.  It doesn’t hurt that she was pretty amazing from the very start.  She is a happy girl, rarely complaining (and when she does complain, it’s for a good reason and doesn’t last very long).  She’s creative – building wonderful worlds on paper with her command of language, making beautiful jewelry with her imagination, and filling our home with music at her beloved piano.  I love hearing from other people how much they enjoy spending time with her — she brings a lot of happiness into the lives of the people around her.

I just can’t believe she’s already 18 years old.

Where does the time go?

Happy birthday, to my beautiful Jami-girl.  I could not hope for a sweeter, lovelier daughter and I thank the Lord He chose me and your daddy to be your parents.  I love you.

— Mommy

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Still Here!

IMG_0015I’ve been busy the last few days — a new post will be coming soon.  There’s been lots going on:

  • My spring photography class at the college had enough students register this session to make, and I’m looking forward to teaching again.
  • My blind and shutter business has been steady, so that’s keeping me busy.
  • The teen girl is wrapping up her final months of homeschool.  Graduation is early May and I have a lot to do to get ready for that.

And now I’ve got to run, as I have a client appointment at 1:00 and I still need to grab a shower after having gone for a walk this morning.  Have a great day!

Posted on by Laura Jinkins

Precious Life

A few days ago, I read an article written by a pro-choice columnist extolling the “freedom” provided by Roe v. Wade and how the law made abortion safer for women, if they so choose to have one.  It contained a graphic “crime scene” type photo of a woman who’d attempted to induce an abortion herself in a hotel room and died from blood loss.  I suppose the writer hoped this photo would persuade readers with its shocking content that all women should be able to obtain an abortion at any time that they so choose, for whatever reason, to avoid the tragic end this woman experienced.

Desperate people seek desperate means out of their circumstances — and somehow the pro-life movement has got to meet these people where they are and find alternative solutions for them — there is no reason that a woman’s life should be “ruined” by an unexpected pregnancy, but there is no reason the child’s should be “ruined,” either.  I do not want to get into the debate of “the life of the mother” . . . I do know people who have been advised by their doctors that they should not have any other children for health reasons and I respect that.  I’m just wondering if there’s a solution there, too (tubal ligation, etc.) to pro-actively take steps to prevent “accidents” so that abortion is never an issue?

This video is powerful — probably one of the best communications of the history of the abortion debate and it does not rely on sensational photos to convey its message.  Simple testimony of historical facts from 1973 through today.  Give it a watch.

 Pro-Life Ad That You MUST SEE. – Chicks on the Right – Chicks on the Right.