Guess who was blessed

So, I was in my home office slaving away on Saturday morning when I was diverted with a bad case of A-D-D and my mouse started clicking over to my Facebook page.  I saw one of the local wineries was having an animal blessing from 11-1.


What was a girl to do?


Well, of course, I loaded up The Natives and drove them over to the winery for a little loving and prayer.  And I loaded up on two more bottles of the Summer Cab.  I mean, two birds, one stone?  A little Jesus shout out for the beagles and the blood of Christ for me all in one stop?  Who wouldn't?


She blessed them with hopes for long, healthy and well-behaved lives. . . and then loaded them up with treats. 


Of course.

Maddie receiving her blessing.

The Honey Badger (Tulip) receiving her blessing.

$28 Worth: First date wrap-up

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Now 1:20 am

After getting back home and unlocking the backdoor as quietly as possible as to not alarm The Natives I placed my purse down on the dining room table.    It was too late.  The beagles were wide awake and eager to greet me as if they could understand everything begging me to dish about my date with $28 Worth and be forthcoming with juicy deets.  Their warm, sloppy kisses melted my heart and killed my nostrils.  Apparently, their breath is way worse to me in the middle of the night - could peel wallpaper off the wall.

I slipped into my PJs and began to go through the nightly ritual of trying to save any amount of youthfulness I can; which is a losing battle in my case.  Before filling up the Tervis with chilled water and popping a couple of Advil miracle pills that routinely deter foreboding morning-after-drinking-binge headaches, I heard my phone buzz.

Hey, just got home.  Had a perfect night. Did you make it home ok? Would love to hang out again, pronto.

Home safe.   Had an awesome time.  Thanks for the great laughs and stories.

And so it was.  

On why I could do without living in Texas, sometimes

I live in Dallas.

Parental units reside outside of Houston.

That is 4.5-hour distance by vehicle.  It’s been up to 6 with traffic.

I drive it often.

An attractive route I-45 i not, but it gets the job done.

Picture me driving along with the two Natives in the backseat.  One is being very well behaved and lying down on her pillow.  The other is damned and determined to jump over the console and into the front seat.  Her rancid breath would make wallpaper peel off walls (she's now 12-years old bless her heart).  It's 90-degrees outside and the car is trying to stay cool as we blow through Houston.  Needless, she’s panting and the putrid smells are being expelled from her snout and wafting into the front drivers seat where I am trying to concentrate on the drive.  Hard to do when you can't determine if the smells in the backseat are coming from your own beagle or the landfill you are passing by.

And then we hit Navarro County.  The skies look ominous, but that’s just spring in Texas; except that my radio starts beeping with a weather emergency prompt.  

“BEEP.  BEEP.  BEEP.  This is a warning from the National Weather Service. Tornadoes detected in Navarro County.  3 miles south of Corsicana.”

Holy Joseph, Mary and Jesus.  I just entered Navarro county per the mile markers that I keep wishing would pass faster.  I am 10 miles due south of Corsicana.

And then it happens.  The clouds start to form into mean and daunting shapes right in front of me.  They start to group together and are blowing by fast as I am now white knuckling the steering wheel.

  

I decide to pull over, but where?  The only life existence near me is an old beaten down Texas Burger fast food chain and a dilapidated Exxon station.  Neither look safe, but I have no option.  I follow the rest of the cars to the most immediate exit still trying to watch both the road and the clouds above. 

And then I see one.  One of those things I only thought were made for the Weather Channel.  A vehicle marked TORNADO CHASERS with a team of experts pulling out equipment and binoculars alongside I-45.

Damn.  So the threat of a twister in the area is real.

Breathing becomes labored.  Nerves are now shot.  What if my car gets swept away like the cows did in the move Twister?  They say pull over into a ditch, but honestly that sounds about as smart as shoving ice picks into my eyeballs.  Not going to happen.  One of the Natives is about to shit herself in the back seat.  The other is still trying to jump over the console and oblivious to my sensitivities.

We pulled over and waited out the storm.  Went inside of the dilapidated fast food joint with The Natives and prayed the roof stayed on the building just long enough to keep us protected.

Storm passed.

I saw no twister(s).

Thank Gawd.

We continued the drive north and were greeted by sunny skies and a rainbow as we entered the greater Dallas area.

Go figure.