Catalina

I'm crossing into the twilight zone. Rod Serling is not there, Vincent Price is not there, Alfred Hitchcock is not there, even Barnabis Collins is not there (I am wayyy too old.) However, cousin Jean is there in this spooky place, it's perilous footing, it's darkness, it's every corner fraught with the unknown. It's scariness...I'm getting a maid. Noooo...Yes! Nooooo...are you mature enough Susan? Are you haughty enough to say, "I have dirt and I want you to clean it." Can you wrap your mind around, "Please Catalina, polish the silver today."

That's her name...Catalina. It's exotic, like she's from Turks and Caicos, or perhaps Surinam, or even Figi...no, she's from Mexico but I love her! She's tiny but has the demeanor of a head coach. She interviewed me last week. I think I passed her test. She had to fire a cluttered clergyman to fit us into her schedule...and she will only come once every two weeks BUT FOLKS I have a maid.

You must understand that the only maid I have ever had in my life was when Nancy briefly worked at a bank and I was no more than three years old. The maid's name was Hatti. She was mad all the time and chased me and my sisters around the house threatening us with the wooden green roof slats from our lincoln log house. Or she would make US walk out back and pull a switch from the ligustrum bush. She could strip the leaves off in one swoosh with her hand and commence beating us. I don't ever remember her cleaning our house but maybe I was prejudiced. She was mean. And then one day, her husband came to the screen door and told Nancy that Hatti had died of a heart attack. In my four or five year old mind I was feeling mighty sorry for Jesus because I knew Hatti had probably not changed her mind on corporal punishment and he had better watch out.

So guess what I'm doing this weekend? Cleaning my house because Catalina is coming on Monday. I have curtains to wash, cabinets to scrub, floors to wax, bathtubs to scour. Mow the lawn, trim the bushes...clean the patio, POLISH the silver, bathe the dog...your first impression is always important.

JK Wedding

I'm sorry, I know everyone has seen this, but it's the best five minutes I've spent lately.
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Happy Hump Day.

1997

I dusted off the flatbed scanner and hooked it up this weekend. I am determined to put all of our family pictures on flash drive or disk and have them organized. It's nice to look through old photo albums but computers are so much more organized and not DUSTY. I got a little teary eyed at my 10 year old son in 1997. He made all-stars a couple of summers and was so excited that he did. It required going to different towns in North Louisiana as opposed to just our Dixie fields (De Soto Parish) or Shreveport.

I may have told you this story before but I'm gonna tell it again because it cracks me up every time. In 1997, Clif's all-star team went to Farmerville, LA (imagine) to play a tournament. I can't remember who won but I know there was a dingbat there watching that day. Farmerville is some little old town of 4,000 people north of Monroe (emphasis on first syllable), LA. We sat all day in the drenching June sun as all moms and dads do every June weekend, sweating, cheering and delighted that baseball season is coming to a close. Well I was anyway.

I carried massive amounts of water, snacks, sunscreen, etc. so I brought a satchel along with my purse, and I even put my purse in the satchel. At one point during the day, Clif raided me of money for hot dogs, etc. when he was not playing. I threw my wallet back in the satchel and did not think another thing of it. When we were leaving the park at dusk, we gathered up the chairs and I grabbed my satchel. Lots of people were heading for the parking lot. I reach in my purse for my wallet and it's not there. I'm panicking, and panicking and WHERE IS IT? I've lost it, run back to where our chairs were, no wallet. Oh God! WHERE IS IT? Clif's looking, Jim's looking, I'm looking, people around us are looking. I didn't say it, surely I didn't say it..."I'VE BEEN PICK POCKETED!!!!" Stunned, Jim and Clif both look at me...did she really say that? Jim said, "Susan, we're not in New York City, we're in Farmerville, Louisiana!" (emphasis on Farmerville) I look in my satchel and sure enough, I had thrown it in the bottom of my satchel instead of my purse. Mortified, Clif said, "I'm never coming back to Farmerville with you again, Mom!" And you know what? I don't think we have been back there.

Above would be Babe Ruth practicing his homerun stance prior to the Farmerville game in 1997.

This is Babe Ruth with our "old buddy" who went to the great dog hotel in the sky quite a few years ago. Actually, I put this picture up because if you could see those two bushes on either side of the bay window now, you'd fall out laughing. We're the only people I know who moved into a house and downgraded it. Well, we have had a ten-year drought.

Stainless Steal

I got my new dishwasher installed yesterday. I feel like we robbed Lowe's, it was such a good deal. You can read about my old dishwasher here. I love the newness of it. We had a little trouble getting Roy's Appliance to show up. Said it would be first thing in the morning (don't you imagine that as 9:00 or 10:00?), then told me he had to go to Bossier City first to install a microwave...what time did he show up? 2:00 p.m. However, not before I called Lowe's and made my point.


Tamara, the install coordinator, had a bad day yesterday. I told her I was tired of getting the runaround from Roy's Appliance so she said she'd look into it. I hung up. The phone rang immediately and I said, "Hello?" And Tamara is screaming at the top of her lungs, "There's a Susan Ruffin raising hell and giving me crap, when the hell are y'all going to get out to her house?" Upon which I said, "I don't know about Roy's Appliance but I'm already at my house." Silence. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Ruffin, I dialed the wrong number, I'll call you right back." Don't you hate those days when you screw up royally?

Here's my Maytag dishwasher. I love it. Would crawl in and take a shower if I could.

All By Myself

I've been here at Rayburn since Wednesday. YES I'M HAVING A BALL. For those of you who don't like solitude, I feel for you. It is liberating for someone who answers to many people on a daily basis. I even answer to a dog.

Yes, I drove the fifth wheel 100 miles, and backed it in Site #47 all by myself. I unhooked, set up, got the satellite going although it did require setting my mouth just the right way while standing on one foot. Those jerks who say just point it at the southern sky are direct descendents of Pollyanna. I had to drag out the satellite finder (yes, there is such a thing and it costs $50 but has paid for itself many times over.) I'm a pretty patient person but many a time I have wanted to fling the #%d*a@n tripod and the dish over the rocks out into the lake.

Back to my relaxing solitude. I even had time to string up the ropelights that I bought last Christmas around our campsite. They twinkle at night and out here on the point they're just the right amount of intrusion at night. Time for an adult beverage and because it was windy, I sat outside and looked at the stars.

Oh excuse me, where is my husband? And my son? And my dog? Who cares today? I will give you a hint, one refuses to take vacation, one is in summer session in Baton Rouge and one is severely depressed and refuses to eat. It seems someone snuck out of town with the fifth wheel and DID NOT TAKE HIM WITH HER.

Yesterday afternoon, a storm came up on the lake as they're apt to do this time of the year. I was out on my floatie cooling off and hoping the 60 spf lotion is blocking cancer cells, when a gust nearly picked up my petite body, floatie and all and slammed it against the rocks. Time to come in and anchor things down.




Mother nature does not fool around at Rayburn. Too much open water.

4th of Julate

We did do Rayburn for the 4th and am just now getting around to reporting on it. It was so hot, I spent most of the weekend on my $1.50 blow-up blue raft with my head under water. Below is our favorite swimming hole on the west side of the lake.

The weekend started out ominous. Usually my first picture is looking backward from my shotgun seat on the boat and taking a picture of the wake where once upon a time I slalommed behind the boat (what a joke now!) However, below is where I found myself shooting pictures from the boat last weekend.

The battery had fried sitting out in the heat at home for the last few weeks in 100 degree plus weather...so we had to make a trip to Powell Park Marina to get a new battery. By the way, a small 26 year marriage joke on the boat ramp before we left...I had lowered the motor to start it (by hydraulics) and when it wouldn't start, Jim said he would pull it out and we'd go get a new one. I forgot, yes, FORGOT to pull the motor back up so there was some scraping on the concrete boat ramp when he started to pull it out. He got out of the truck and used a few swear words while I turned beet red and pushed the button to bring the motor up. But LO AND BEHOLD, when we got over to the marina to get the new battery, it was a totally minor irritation that SOMEBODY (Jim) forgot to CLIP THE BOAT BACK ONTO THE TRAILER as in it could have slid off! So I did what every mature wife of a 26 years marriage would do...I tripped him walking into the marina (Mr. Boatman!) Have a nice trip? See ya next fall.

I found my next boat below.

Jim and I tried to get close for a better look but damned is someone didn't pop out from below. We pretended we were shopping for boat slips.

Saturday night there were fireworks galore all over the lake even though there was a burn ban on in all of the counties surrounding Lake Sam Rayburn. Below is my view of Snake Island and the beautiful lake. Jim got a good view of them outside but WHY? Especially when it's still 92 degrees at 9:00 p.m., and from my perch it was 68 degrees AND Devine Design was on.

And now for this weekend. I have a new dishwasher being installed this week. I got fed up with our 12 year old dishwasher. The glasses have to dance together on the top rack because all tynes are broken. And the only way for the plates to be separated on the bottom is if you intersperse them with glasses to make them stand up. There was some serious thrashing going on when you turned it on and FORGET listening to the TV in the breakfast room while it was doing it's thing. You might as well have driven the truck in the breakfast room and started it. But I got a new Maytag stainless steel quiet dishwasher. Only bad thing is the mustard yellow '70s formica top it's going under. Oh yeah, I forgot, Candace said I could say "Dijon" countertop now.

Happy Fourth Everyone

Gone to Rayburn for the fourth. Hope yours is a wonderful one.