In May, my husband and I went to Ireland on vacation.  After being up all night, we landed in Dublin at 9a.m. Dublin time (4a.m. Texas time.)  Although we were tired, our excitement propelled us to get the party started.
First stop:  pick up the rental car.  Our travel agent told us that each car rental would come with a GPS and that with that device we should have no problem getting from place to place.  We had to upgrade from our compact car since the first car assigned had no truck and we had 2 large suitcases.  They were then generous at Hertz and did another upgrade to a mid-size.  Sounds great right—seeing Ireland in style….well….just wait.  And of course we declined any extra coverage because all the insurance, etc is just an upsell and we were not falling for that trickery!
We find our car-a beautiful 4-door navy Volvo.  I was planning to do the driving since my husband is blind on his right side and the driver would be on the right side of the car (which is the wrong side if you ask me!) Also, I am an excellent driver.  I jump behind the wheel, smile for a photo—happiness and excitement.  We plug in the GPS and I carefully pull out.  Once outside the garage, the GPS begins to speak.  “Dove stai andando?”   Excuse me?  The GPS was in Italian.  No manual. 
We also learned later that Americans tend to drive too close to the curb (which is on the left side-again WRONG SIDE if you ask me.)  I didn’t know that from the article but was quickly informed by my freaked out, one-eyed co-pilot.  He goes from 0-100 quicker than any sports car and does it with a tone that is very unsettling.  I asked him to please use a different tone but he let me know that at this moment this was the only tone that he could use…..  Not sure of the exact conversation but I do know there was a lot of regrets about getting a larger car and not falling for their upsell of more insurance.  We had 8 days ahead of us to tear this Volvo up.
Finally we had to pull over and bite the bullet and get our GPS out on our phone.  Directions came flowing in and although we now had a destination, navigating the small streets of Dublin was still lurking.  When you want to make a left hand turn you have to go to the far right lane which goes against everything Coach Jackson taught me in drivers ed.  But we finally made it to the parking garage of our hotel.  Remember we are exhausted, I have shed a few tears, my husband has busted a few blood veins in his brain and we enter this TINY garage with sharp curves and turns.  It may have taken 15 minutes to go up three floors but we parked.
We walked around the city a bit until check-in time.  Still exhausted I now had to tackle that Italian GPS.  So while Billy took a nap I pulled out his iPad to the manual and my iPad to an Italian translator app.
Presto, Chango….hello ENGLISH!  And time for my nap.
The travel agent was correct.  The GPS made all the difference.  Plus Cindy sent us an article about Americans driving in Ireland and things to remember—of course I already knew several of these points by experience.
The streets in the small towns are narrow and you have to let oncoming traffic pass.  Tight turns and sharp corners were part of the experience.  Narrow winding roads with other drivers who did not mind driving above the speed limit so I was a tense ball of 10 to 2 on the steering wheel (even though there is supposedly new numbers?)  People were very kind and courteous—driving friendly the Texas way.
BY the end of the trip I was an excellent driver on the roads of Ireland.  I actually enjoyed the winding roads, with their twists and turns.  I did miss some of the scenery because I was so focused on not hitting the left side and watching the right side.  But we explored the country and 8 days later pulled the unblemished Volvo back into the rental lot.  We both sighed a huge sigh of relief as we boarded the shuttle bus to the airport.  So long Ireland, So long Volvo, So long to the winding roads…..
So if you are headed to Ireland….I have one recommendation:  take me…I’m an excellent driver.

In my very first post on this blog (August 2015 Archive) I mentioned the vulnerability of sharing my thoughts...putting them out there for all to see.....well I use the word "all" very loosely.  I do not know how many readers read all of my ramblings but I think about it often. 

So why don't I post more?  That is a question I ask myself.....so let's explore.

TOO OPEN:  I mentioned vulnerability,.....maybe that is a little bit of the reason but heck, I'm usually an open book so why start feeling vulnerable now? 

TIME:  I would like to first write down the excuse of "I don't have time" but that is not true.  Yes, I am a fairly busy person with many things on my plate but I could probably find an hour a month to make a post. 

CONTENT:  So with "time" out of the way, the next thing that stands in my way is a topic.  I don't have a boring life...I went to Ireland in May and have many stories I could share.  But I have put the pressure on myself that I must be cleaver and thought provoking.  BUT the name of this blog is "thinking out loud."  And even though I consider myself hilarious and cleaver, I just box myself in to having a great line or closing that will leave the readers wanting more.  Most bloggers (at least I think this applies to most bloggers) share thoughts of great information, many are theme-based.  There are blogs for builders, moms, historians, etc.  THIS blog is far from the sharing great information.  And because of that...I find it very difficult to make frequent posts.  I need to SAY something and it needs to be CLEAVER and LEAVE THE READER WANTING MORE.

So if I believe that 6 months of blogs that I have posted have left the readers wanting more....then they must be so disappointed,  So to the two of you...I apologize.

But I have told myself that I'm going to do at least one post a month--maybe two--ok, I just got carried away in the moment but at least one.  So.......I'm making a list of possible topics.  Maybe thinking ahead will give me motivation.  Maybe getting in the swing of writing will leave ME wanting more......  one can only hope.

I recently came across a poem I had written to tell my story.  This was an exercise for a business retreat and it was so interesting to hear where others "came from."  I thought I would share my story here.

I am from a small town in Texas, adopted at six days old-
Mama, Daddy and me-the only ones in the household.

My birth family I have found.
But my mom and dad are the BEST, hands down.

I am from a Baptist upbringing, conservative you would call.
LIBERAL thinker today-Liberty and Justice for ALL.

I am friend to many from the days of my youth. 
My best friend today I met in graduate school.

I am from a home where my mom was creative with time to play.
Dad was in the oil business and gone many days.

I am from many careers from nursing, English and Music.
Then 20+years in non-profits and still not a cynic.

I am from a lucky plot-escaping the tribulations many face.
A loving family and also saved by grace.

I am from piano lessons, voice and love to entertain.
A life of the party but often I refrain.

I am from family dinners, Family Affair lunch box
A bedroom always red, including my alarm clock.

I am from happiness when I married a cowboy at last.
Not proud  of decision before him but leave the past in the past.

I am from opportunity to be a bonus mom-two girls at that.
And long with them, share my heart with 2 dogs and 3 cats.

I am proud  of today , a heart full of glee
I am Ronna...yep, that's me.
 

From the title of this blog entry, many of you may think that I am talking about my house and my life with my three cats.  While that is often a circus--especially when they decided to chase each other over the bed while we are sleeping or when Nabor and Sonny just don't get along--this is NOT about them.  This is actually about a "real" cat circus.

Recently, I saw this car at a local eating establishment and upon investigation found out that the Acro-Cats were in town and having a show at a local playhouse. 

I asked Cindy and Stacy if they wanted to come along and be part of a night they would "never forget," they said that they had to go for fear that I would run away with the circus.  So tickets purchased....I was both excited and a little embarrassed.  Come on, it is an event where I paid money to see cats perform--but gotta start working on that bucket list at some point

My 53rd birthday is this Friday.  1.22.63

53.  This is not a misprint or just my wild imagination...it is a real event.  I can say that 50 is the new "30"--I think I said that on my 40th birthday as well.  Heck, what makes 30 so special?  I guess all the "milestones" get special treatment because that are all divisible by the number five.  (that is the best logic I could come up with, so if you have other thoughts....PLEASE leave me a comment so I can be better informed.

But 53...is just sort of blah.  Not the big 5-0 and not 55.   At least with 55, you get the senior discount at The Movie Tavern.  With 53....you get nothing.  I recall this same feeling at 33, 37, 43, 47...just stuck in the middle....Remember when you were a Sophomore in high school.  You were no longer the new kids on the block (Freshman.) You were not getting to plan for your approaching graduation (Senior.)  Last as a Junior you had getting your drivers license to look forward to or the Prom....that Sophomore year was also blah.

My mother told that that when I turned three I told everyone that I was going to be six.  I had asked  "Can I wash dishes when I am three?"   "No" replied my mom.  "When can I wash dishes?"  "When you are six."  Same conversation about when I could go to school.  Three was blah.  I was going to be six. 

So now 50 years later from that conversation, I would be happy to have the excuse that I'm too old to wash dishes.  But as an adult, I have all those "duties."  Someone said to me this year, "You are as young as you feel."  Well, I feel 53 but I'm going to fake it and feel six.   I need to be six. 
I have a sink full of dirty dishes that needs to be washed.
 

Well.....2015 has ended and 2016 has started.  The old calendar has been trashed and the new one has taken its place.

Yes, it is a new year...but so far these days look a whole lot like the ones in 2015.  Is that an age thing or are we going through the motions of kidding ourselves and using the word "new" to get us all excited.  Do we get excited about the "new" year because we can correct all the mistakes of the previous year?  Maybe our excitement is about all the great things we will do....the places we will go, the sites we will see and the new healthy habits we will form.

So what does 2016 have in store.....my new calendar has the same months, the same days of the week, the same holidays.....the only thing different is that the spaces are blank......So let's try and fill them with some details worth sharing, ones worth celebrating and ones worth boasting about on 12/31/16 or 1/1/17---LOOK WHAT I DID! 

My wish for 2016......from the words of Ellen DeGeneres:
BE KIND TO ONE ANOTHER!

anyway..........................

It appears that the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas is shrinking.  I remember when I was under 18, it seemed like forever for Christmas to get here after the day of turkey.  And in the past few years, it seems I haven't even emptied the dishwasher from the thanksgiving meal and it is time to put up a tree (geez, that is a post all its own) shop for all those people on your list--that list where 99% of them fall into the category "what in the hell do I get _______?" (sadly, I can fill this blank in with a dozen names) 

Oh, don't get me wrong, I have finished my shopping.  But it has NOT been easy.  I try and buy all year long--see something, over hear a "want"--get it......but there is one that stumps me every year. 

My husband is getting some real crap....not intentionally but he has to be the hardest man on the planet to find something for to put under the tree. 

So what are the options for this man?  what does he like?  what does he do?  What are his hobbies?  Let's explore........

1.  What does he like?  He likes books.  We own a book publishing company and online store (www.cowboybookworm.com.)  So HOW CAN I BUY HIM A BOOK???  

2.  What does he do or wear?  He is a cowboy.  He wears boots and jeans and western shirts.  He offices at home and can wear t-shirts and sweats if he wants.  So what to get a cowboy?
Jeans?  he buys 2-3 pair before the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas first week of December.  nope, not an option.
Boots?  he has the funkiest feet and there is NO way I will buy him boots.
Western shirts?:  since he offices at home, he rarely puts on a long sleeve shirt so he has plenty.
Belt?  again...he is picky and wants no bling.  don't risk it.
Hat?  Are you kidding me?

3.  Cologne? He does wear cologne but evidently I am completely unaware of my buying habits of this product.  He got some for Valentine's Day, his birthday and our anniversary.  Worst part is I bought the same cologne EVERY TIME.  What the heck? I am banned from cologne purchases until 2018. 

4.  What are his hobbies?  His hobby is books.  See number 1.

So there you have it...least YOU have it,  because Mr. Huckaby sure doesn't.  Sorry honey. xxxo

At my job I am over our office expansion in Wichita Falls.  I usually travel to that campus about one time each week.  To help break up the drive (it is about 2 hours), I sometimes go to Bowie (a little more than half way) the night before.  One those occasions, I spend the night with my Uncle and Aunt and 99% of the time meet 4 girlfriends for dinner.

Sandy:  we have been friends since kindergarten and have remained close ever since.
Kristal:  we attended church together from 6th grade on and also were very close--then and now.
Deanne:  we went to kindergarten together but separate elementary schools, so we did not become close friends until Junior High.  She was my first college roommate...again--we have remained close.
Courtney:  she lived behind me--horse pasture separating our two houses but would meet at the fence on a regular bases.  She is a great friend.

During the most recent dinner (Courtney was unable to attend this one) our lively conversation turned to the fact that we are so very lucky to have such lifelong friends.  We have been in each other lives for decades.  Every time we get together it warms my heart. 

Needless to say we laugh.   We have been part of each other’s lives for decades.  How many people can say that?  We do a lot of “remember when” and 99% of the time we are laughing at ourselves.  Our conversations have turned from cute boys and making the drag to hot flashes and colonoscopies.  But we refuse to admit we are older….of course we are so surprised how some of our classmates are starting to look old….but not us….we are ageless……….except for the hot flashes and colonoscopies. 

I recently was asked "what do you see as your strengths?  And what do you see as your weakness?"  Well.......how long do you have?

I once attended a training where the trainer stated your strengths will always be your strengths and your weakness will be your weaknesses....no matter how hard you try, no matter how many trainings you attend to improve your "time management".....time management or whatever your "weakness" is will never be your strength.  Oh, you may improve significantly but I would doubt you would ever list it as a new strength.  The whole point of the story was that you need to use your strengths to offset your weaknesses. 

The trainer continued to tell a story about a man who wanted to plant a garden.  So he begin to work the ground and kept uncovering rocks....rocks of all sizes....He worked hard to remove all the rocks.  The next year he went to work the ground again. And to his surprise uncovered rocks.  rocks of all sizes, rocks, rocks, rocks......  this happened year after year.  The point of this story is that rocks will always "creep up in your garden"...... we may think we have addressed the weakness in our life but our weaknesses will always be a struggle--maybe smaller but still there.  That is why it is so important to increase your self awareness.  Being aware of the big boulders (weakness) that keep popping up in our garden (life) can help us be prepared to manage them.  Use your strengths to help overcome or balance out our short comings....

So WHEN (not if) our weakness pop up and we think we are facing a boulders--remember that the small pebble of strenght and self awareness can help you sort out your path.

I am reminded of David and Goliath and how David killed the giant Goliath with ONE smooth stone.  So a small pebble of strength  can master a boulder of weakness.  I actually keep a small stone on my windowsill at work to remind me to use my strengths. 

What are the small pebbles you posses that will help you slay the giants in your path you need to concur. It only takes one small stone to overcome our struggles. 

..

One of my favorite songs is "Live Like You Were Dying" recorded by Tim McGraw.  I trust and hope you are familiar with this great song.  The subject of the song is that a man learns he is ill and going to die and he spent most of the next days looking at the x-rays and talking about sweet time.  When he was asked what he did when it sank in that he was nearing the end, he responded with a list of things he did--skydiving, loved deeper, talked sweeter and forgave others.  And then stated he hoped that you have the chance to live like you were dying.

In the past year, I have known of several individuals who died suddenly.  Some were alive one day and dead the next. Some were diagnosed with a deadly illness and they were very ill.  None of these individuals had the opportunity to "live like they were dying."  The truth is we are all dying.  From the moment we are born, we start the journey to our death.  We don't know when it will be and if we will have that "sweet time" to mark off those items on our bucket list.   We all know that life is uncertain and yet we still hold back living life to the fullest.  We have all kinds of excuses:   when I have more money, when I have more time.  We may not have "more time."

So let's start now....let us love deeper, speak kindness to others, take time to do the things that bring us joy....actually stopping to smell those roses, really appreciate the sunsets, smile.  A life with no regrets.......  Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life.....what will YOU do with it?

I'm ready to live like I am dying.....now...what to do first?
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Live Like You Were Dying 

He said   "I was in my early forties with a lot of life before me

And a moment came that stopped me on a dime.

I spent most of the next days, looking at the x-rays

Talkin' 'bout the options And talkin' 'bout sweet time"

I asked him "When it sank in that this might really be the real end

How's it hit you when you get that kind of news?

Man, what'd you do?"

 

He said

"I went skydiving

I went Rocky Mountain climbing

I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fumanchu

And I loved deeper

And I spoke sweeter

And I gave forgiveness I'd been denying"

And he said

"Someday I hope you get the chance

To live like you were dying"

 

He said "I was finally the husband

That most of the time I wasn't

And I became a friend a friend would like to have

And all of a sudden going fishin' wasn't such an imposition

And I went three times that year I lost my dad

I finally read the Good Book, and I took a good, long, hard look

At what I'd do if I could do it all again

And then

 I went skydiving

I went Rocky Mountain climbing

I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fumanchu

And I loved deeper

And I spoke sweeter

And I gave forgiveness I'd been denying"

And he said

"Someday I hope you get the chance

To live like you were dying

Like tomorrow was a gift

And you've got eternity

To think about

What you'd do with it

What could you do with it

What did I do with it?

What would I do with it?

You hear a lot about how certain songs or even smells can bring back certain memories.  With the starting of school I am reminded of a memory that floods my mind based upon a certain taste......

In 1969, I was going to start first grade at the Southward Elementary School in Bowie, Texas.  I was beyond excited.  I had my Big Chief Tablet, big fat pencil, a box of Crayons that were flat on one side (does ANYONE remember those?) rounded scissors and of course my Family Affair lunch box.

Several years ago, my husband bought me a Family Affair lunch box (complete with thermos)  for Christmas.  It was an "awwww" moment and scored many bonus points for him. 

Back to 1969.  The week before school started I wanted to "practice" taking my lunch to school.  So every day that week, I would take my packed Family Affair lunch box and go outside and sit on the curb at the end of the sidewalk.   The treasures packed in this tin box might have varied from a ham sandwich to fried chicken.  I'm not sure what all was in that lunch but one thing I am certain that was in my lunch was a baggie full of green grapes. 
Those grapes are my tasting memories.  It doesn't apply to all  grapes but every once in a while, I'll pick up a grape, pop it in my mouth and then be flooded with memories. I am taken back to 1969, sitting on the curb on Wilbarger Street.  Makes me smile every time.

I hope you have a sweet memory of your childhood.  They taste so good.

I was asked how long it would take before I would blog about my cats.  The answer:  Not very long.  I have three cats, so I talk about them like other people talk about their children or grandchildren.  So bear with me.

Raymond was a cat adopted from a rescue group.  He has always been a bit shy but now I'm beginning to think it is not shy but just a recluse with secrets to hide.

I'm pretty sure Raymond is part vampire.  Here is my case.
1.  He is black
2.  He has the longest white fangs (far longer than my other cats)
3.  He lives in a drawer by day and prowls the house by night.

Raymond opens dresser drawers--and some are full of jeans and heavy but he still opens them up, pulls out several pieces of clothes, jumps in and proceeds to another drawer to sleep.  This usually occurs between 7-9am.  Then between 7-9pm, he rises up from his t-shirt filled coffin to face the darkness of night.

During the night, he snuggles on the bed and wants you to pet him but if you move to quickly or use two hands, he vanishes.  Too quick for the naked eye.

I'm not sure what happens while we are asleep but I have many  mornings awoke to find toy mice scattered all over the house.......very interesting......

I would set up some cameras to watch the action but everyone knows you cannot record vampires.  I've only been able to catch a few photos with a special camera supplied by Apple IOS (investigative optic sensors!)

Regardless, I feel safe because of course Everybody Loves Raymond!!!

In 2011, it was said there were 156 million blogs on the World Wide Web.  That was four years ago and with the pace that we move I'm sure it is more than double that number today.  (somebody needs to update Wikipedia!)  

I have many writings on a variety of topics.  Some may be silly--me trying my hand at being a comedian--others just thoughts on my mind.  "Blogging" is like an online diary;  but back when we used the old fashion diary (mine was green), it that had that nifty little lock on it. You hid the key somewhere in your bedroom because God forbid that mom would read all your drama from the 7th grade.  

But that lock had significance.  It signified that these were private thoughts.  We are not mind readers and good thing we are not.  We can keep our thoughts safely "locked away" in our mind because if you thought "it out loud" you would surely be carted off to the looney bin (or maybe even jail)  I use to have such a hesitancy to write a journal or diary in fear that someone would read my private thoughts.  They were meant for MY EYES ONLY.  The purpose was to process all the ideas, fears, anger, joys that were running through my mind....and look at me today.  Writing a blog--under my own name--and it is on the WORLD WIDE WEB---world wide.  Times do change.  Of course I highly doubt that this will be read by the masses...maybe a few friends-until they get bored of my ramblings...but I like to write. So by golly, forget the fancy journals give me a keyboard (and delete key.)

So to end this introductory blog entry, I say this....here's your key to unlock some of my thoughts.  Don't judge. Enjoy.