About Me

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Do the Dew



Who else sees the problem in this photo? Here I am, growing my organic garden, raising chickens, getting solar, and what do I have sitting on my counter beside freshly picked green beans....A Mountain Dew. What can I say? A girls gotta dew what a girls gotta dew.

Biding Adieu to 1502




Let's step back in time.

The year: 1986

The hair: Crimped and permed to perfection.

The outfits: Jams, and custom painted Paula Kunkle specials. (Only Breck folks can appreciate this)

The Place: 1502 Sycamore

In the summer of 1986, my parents and I moved into our new home. A home designed my by dad, and decorated by my mom. A house that would be filled with more laughs than fights. A beautiful Old Chicago brick masterpiece that I called home for the next 15 years. A few weeks ago, my second mother Connie and I ventured in to the town to say our last goodbyes. As most of you know, Kit and Pop are heading East to Big D. They claim it's to be closer to their grand kids, but I think we all know the real reason........CHOCTAW!!!!!!!

The following is a tale of two "sistas" (Connie and me), and our trip out West to bid adieu to 1502.....

Friday, May 21, 2010

After a long morning of Buddy Fun Day at the boys school, I kissed the monkeys goodbye, and sent them with my friend A and went home to pack. By pack, I mean throw in some deo and contact solution, because I'll more than likely 'borrow' moms clothes, and let's face it, I had to leave room in my bag for items I would be stealing from the house. Smart girl. Always thinking.

Sometime between my third and forth Red bull, Connie and Al show up. I believe this is around 3pm. Connie gets out of the car...limping. Al is rolling his eyes. Apparently, she has injured her leg running. Hey, kudos to her...almost 60 and running like the wind. I love it. It only takes Connie about 20 minutes to make it the two feet in the door, but soon enough we are packed up and ready to hit the road. Al looks at us with this "I'm so damn glad not to be going" look and peels out of the drive. Connie and I hit the road.

Now, Connie and I have not been alone, much less for a three hour road trip since I was 15. Connie came to Breck and picked me up to have a 'girls' weekend...and my parents were coming later in the week. I'm pretty sure they were desperate to get my smart ass out of the house for a few days, and send me with Connie thinking she could talk some sense into me concerning make-up choices and clothes. What? Short skirts and thigh highs with heavy black liquid eye liner isn't a good choice? I thought so. I don't remember much from that trip, but I do remember going to Connie's office. I met the hottest boss alive...Steve. I spent the day roaming around KPMG and looking slutty. I'm sure Connie was proud. Later that week, my parents came to Dallas...only to find the same smart ass teenager with the same black eye liner they had sent away. Productive trip. So, fast forward 15 years later...here we are, pulling out of Dallas..this time with much less eye liner.

The trip was pretty uneventful. We laughed so hard the entire way, I thought I was going to swerve off the road. We made to Breckenridge about 6:30...which is an hour past my parents dinner time:)

We pull up to the house to see Sid's ass in the air pulling weeds. And by pulling weeds, I mean the four weeds they have in the perfect flower beds! After a kiss to dad, I quickly run and grab the gin. I was thirsty from my trip. Plus, the shakes were starting....juuuuuuust kidding. Mom walks in. We all grab our cocktails and retreat to the porch.

The porch. Their isn't a problem that can't be solved on that porch with a G&T and a smoke. I love that porch. I'll miss that porch.

After dinner...and a few more drinks, mom takes Connie and I out to the garage where she's keeping all the stuff for her BYOB (Bring Your Own Box) party. We get first dibs....or so I thought. Let's just say that everything I picked up, was followed by Sid saying "Now do you really need that?" and "What are you going to do with 25 banana split bowls?" Well, DAD, I don't know, but I want them! I'm an only child and dammit I want them:) It was a pleasant night that ending with me passing out on the sofa covered in 10 quilts because the house felt like a meat locker.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

After sleeping off my gin, I throw on my running clothes and hit the pavement. I make it about 4 miles before my shoes start to fill up with gravel from the "streets". I use the term 'street' lightly. I get back to the house to find Connie under my 10 blankets and mom and dad smoking by the fireplace. I love how they think the smell goes up the chimney. Classy.

Saturday was unproductive, but in a good way. Dad took Gran Fran to Abilene, while mom, Connie and I did a whole lotta nothing, and Bonnie came over. The four of us then proceeded to do a whole lotta nothing...except sip Bonnie's AWESOME mojitos. Mmmmm. Dad came home with a headache, and the girls headed to Ernies for dinner. After getting my last Ernies queso fix for a while, we hit the streets of Breck for some sight seeing. With Bonnie at the wheel, we made our way around and laughing our butts off most of the way. Sometime around 11pm, we called it a night. I went inside...had a night cap and bath, took a sleeping pill and hit the sofa.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Sometime, around 10am, I awake to see dad in pj pants stomping through the house like a bull, and mom offering me coffee.

Ambien plus Gin = not being able to hear anything before 10am.

Connie is still sleeping. Sweet, I'm not the only lush. I look up and see THE LOOK on dad's face. Ohhhh shit, he's mad. He's got that " Hey lazy ass, I'm giving you around 30K worth of furniture and stuff and you can't get your lazy ass off the couch and help me pack?" I pull the covers over my head. Maybe if I pretend I didn't see him, he won't know I'm here. I pull back the covers. He sees me. Shit. I roll off the sofa, grab my coffee and make my way to the garage. Whoa, dad must have been up since 5am. Everything is packed and ready to go. Hey, this worked out pretty good. I didn't have to do a thing. I heart ambien.

With dad rushing around like a maniac yelling "Cathy! Cathy!"....Connie emerges from the bedroom. She looks at me with that " Oh shit, Sid is mad look" and precedes to grab a quilt and join me back on the sofa. The two divas (Connie and me) sat on the sofa while Sid did all the heavy lifting. Isn't he the best? Now that I'm thinking about it, I bet all that packing was just to get us out of there.

It's kinda like when the boys were little and we would come for the weekend. Around 8am on Sunday morning, mom would start saying, "well, you better get on the road, I think the weather may get bad and you don't want to drive in the dark." At the time, we lived 30 miles away. I don't think driving in the dark if leaving at 8am was an option. I think they wanted us up and out! So, Connie and I packed up the car so tight, all we were missing was Granny in her rocker and we pulled out of town....stopping for gas, red bull, and a fillet of fish.

It was a great trip. One I'll remember forever. I feel blessed and lucky to have been raised in that house and that town by those parents. It's going to be weird having someone else live in that house. The house that I sold lemonade out front with Sarah, Vince, Pamela and Bo. The house were prom dates picked me up. The home were my mother cooked dinner every night, and my dad taught me to park a stick shift on a slant in the back drive. The house were I had a pink bedroom and posters of the Stetson Man. The house were I stole vodka from my parents bar and replaced it with water. The house with the most wonderful Christmas' and birthdays anyone could want. The house where I sat at the kitchen bar crying doing math...or laughing at dad nearly burning down the house with a science project. Laying by the pool...listening to the radio. The house were my dad walked in the door each night at 6 after driving 30 miles to and from work to give my mom and me....that house.

Tears.

Ok, enough sad. Kit and Pop are moving to Big D and it will be great!

Here are some pics from the weekend. Enjoy!
xxoo
The Fowl Housewife


Sycamore Street


Camp Mystic key chain in the backdoor.


My old room. Minus the posters on the wall, the the smell of Bud Ice light seeping from my pores.


And last but not least, The King in all his glory. Pj pants and a Basic Light. Who can argue with that.