“I get older.. they stay the same age.”


Once in a while a movie comes along.. that even if you’ve seen it a gazillion times, you still laugh as if you are watching it for the first time. For me.. Dazed and Confused is definitely one of those movies.  It’s in the same category as any John Hughes/Brat Pack movie, as far as I’m concerned.  Back in 1993, when the movie was released, no one had heard of Matthew McConaughey, or even Ben Affleck for that matter.   This hilarious movie is a cult classic… and one of my all time favorites.

We were in Austin, Texas last month and I couldn’t resist checking out some of the filming locations for the movie.  With the help of my husband… who laughs right along with me, and our trusty GPS, we found most of them and had a total blast from the past.


First stop, Robert E. Lee High School.. which is actually Bedicheck Middle School.

Had to see where the freshman hazing took place.

“Fry like bacon you little freshman piggies! Fry! Fry!”

Next stop.. Top Notch for some Jalapeno Burgers and soggy fries.

(Actually we had a burger and onion rings… and it was really good)

“Hey batter, batter, batter…”

These were a little tricky… there weren’t any open gates, so I had to James Bond myself into the dugout through the fence.

On to the Emporium… Looks a little run down :(

“I get older.. they stay the same age…”

Surely this qualifies me for Mother of the Year.

And last, but certainly not least… I had to do it.. I had to get it… the 50 yard line shot.

This was the one that had me sweating bullets.. because trespassing is obviously illegal… and I do not condone such behavior.  However, I had to get the picture… couldn’t leave without it. Mission accomplished. :)

So there it is… my ‘Doing Dazed and Confused‘ tour.. we really did have a lot of fun.

Where I’m From…

A friend of mine… my sista from anotha mista, if you will, did a blog post that I absolutely loved.. so I thought I would give it a shot.  You can see her blog HERE.


I’m from the smell of fried chicken at Grandmother’s on a Sunday afternoon.

I’m from Shawnee Wolves Football on a Friday night.

I’m from peddling until your legs were sore, while riding bikes on washboard roads.

I’m from folded notes passed in hallways.

I’m from the sweet smell of fresh picked honeysuckle at Summertime.

I’m from friends you’ve had since birth because your parents have been friends just as long.

I’m from small towns with big dreams.

I’m from lightning bugs in mason jars because they make the best night lights.

I’m from late nights with best friends, and giggling while talking about boys.

I’m from cousins playing football in the yard after a great meal at Christmas.

I’m from 1 cent bubble gum at Ben Frankin’s.

I’m from graduating high school, thinking about how great it is.. only to realize you have no idea how good you had it.

I’m from cool breezes and driving down dirt roads.

I’m from Grandma’s amazing biscuits and gravy….. and her Coke Ham on Thanksgiving.

I’m from Bob’s Roll-A-Way Rink, skates with hot pink wheels, and band aids on blistered toes.

I’m from thinking you’re cool jamming to New Kids on the Block at Eufaula Lake, while working on a tan.

I’m from tractors on the ‘main’ roads.

I’m from “I love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck”.







Maui Waui

In January we left the cold behind and headed for Maui.  I have to say it was the most beautiful place I’ve every seen, and I can’t wait to go back someday.  Although, first class is the only way to go.. 8 hours is entirely too long to spend in a cramped seat, but it was totally worth it.


This is one my favorite photos I took while we were there..   it looks like a postcard.  It’s impossible to take a ‘bad’ photo in Maui.

He was carving Lane’s name in a wooden turtle.

You can’t go to Maui and not do the Road to Hana.  As crazy as it sounds, I really feared for our lives at a few different times, but I’m glad we went. The views are absolutely gorgeous.

These Macaws were gorgeous!

Honey BBQ Meatloaf (or Beefloaf as my 5 year old calls it)


I was really surprised at how good this was for being so easy.  Lane has decided that Beefloaf isn’t that bad after all. :)


1 lb Ground Beef

1/2 Cup Panko Bread Crumbs

3 Tbsp Worcestershire Sauce

1 Tbsp Dijon or Spicy Mustard

1 Cup BBQ Sauce

3 Tbsp Honey

1 Tsp Salt

1 Tsp Pepper


Mix together beef, crumbs, 1/2 cup BBQ Sauce, 1 Tbsp Honey, Mustard, Salt and Pepper.  Once combined, form into a loaf in a casserole dish.

In separate bowl, mix remaining ingredients and brush over meatloaf before baking in a 350 degree oven for 45 minutes.

I removed mine 1/2 way through and added more sauce on top.  Serve with additional sauce. Yum!


♬ Music… Food For My Soul ♬


Anyone who knows me, also knows that music is and always has been a major part of my life.  My music ‘talents’ begin and end with me being able to play Hot Cross Buns on a recorder, and a little of Europe’s The Final Countdown and Motley Crue’s Home Sweet Home on the piano. (and that is only after a few “oops, I messed up, let me start over”)  Needless to say, I’m not musically inclined.. not even a little bit… but that’s beside the point.

Music can make you laugh.. it can make you cry like a baby.. out of the blue while driving down the road (true story, don’t judge).. it can instantly zap you back to an exact moment in time as if it were only yesterday.  It can make you cringe at a memory that you wish you could completely erase from your brain (again, true story… and if anyone knows what I’m speaking of.. shut up)… Music really is the soundtrack to life, in so many ways.

Any who… I always describe my taste in music as being a little on the Bi-Polar side… Ok, a lot on the Bi-Polar side.  Seriously, one playlist on my iPod has got Gym Class Heroes immediately followed by Johnny Lee’s Cherokee Fiddle.  I would be the one who would be rocking my Tony Lama boots with a Rolling Stones shirt, while blaring Snoop Dogg.

My husband Brock often get’s pop quizzed on the art of voice recognition and ‘name that tune’ while driving, or whenever the occasion arises.  Most of the time, he fails miserably.. but he’s getting better.. and that’s really all I can ask.. right?  He bears the brunt of my music obsession and he does so with a smile.. most of the time.  Although, I don’t know how much smiling he was doing when he was installing my new super way cool radio he bought me for my birthday… until 11:00 at night.  But he knew I couldn’t possibly be expected to wait until the weekend.. just staring at it sitting in the box.  I mean this thing does it all.. Plays my iPod.. my Sirius Radio.. CD’s… DVD’s.. and the regular radio.. but why in the heck would I need to listen to the regular NOT commercial free radio with all of my other options?  It truly was the best gift ever.  Definitely the gift that keeps on giving.

My son and nephew are already making me proud.


Proud Moment #1

A few weeks ago AC/DC came on the radio and Lane said “Mom, this is the song from Megamind.”  Actually, it wasn’t.. but there is an AC/DC song in Megamind, just a different song.  Point being, he recognized the fact that it was the same group because the two songs sound a lot alike..

Proud Moment #2

My 11 year old nephew Austin is already showing promise in the ‘voice recognition’ department.  The other day, my sister calls me and asks me if I had heard a song that was playing on the radio, because Austin thinks that Adam Levine (swoon) sings part of it.  Well, I hadn’t ever heard the song and much to my surprise he was right.  He identified him by voice alone.  I’m telling you, it made my heart swell with pride and almost brought a tear to my eye.  (not really, but it was still pretty cool)

I’m doing my best to see that I pass my appreciation for good tunes on to my child.


And they can both do a mean rendition of Moves Like Jagger that will have you rolling…

Lane showing his Jagger Moves…


Bring on the Ewings!

I have waited.. dreamed of… prayed for…. ok.. so I didn’t ‘pray’ for this day to come, that would be a little nutty.  Ok, so I’m kind of nutty.. but I promise, I didn’t involve the man upstairs with my Dallas obsession. Yes.. my Dallas obsession.  I am so excited about the premiere tonight.  Those of you who have read my previous blog post about Dallas, know that I was born this way.. so I can’t help it.  :)

In celebration of the return of Dallas… I am posting a few favorite moments from the original Dallas over the years.

A video montage of some of J.R.’s finer moments…

Yep, J.R. is definitely one of those characters you love to hate.. but still one of my favorite Ewings.

The best fights…

Someone always goes in the pool….



And who doesn’t love some bloopers..

Dallas premieres tonight 8:00 on TNT! Woo Hoo!!!!


My Little Boy Is Growing Up…

Pass the tissues… my little boy is almost GROWN. Ok, well not really… but it sure seems that way. I can honestly say that I did not cry on his first day of Pre-K.  He was so excited to be starting school and making friends, that I couldn’t be anything but happy for him.  It didn’t hurt that it was only for a few hours a day and kept telling myself that “it wasn’t ‘real‘ school”….  so I’m really NOT turning loose of my boy just yet. Today was a different story completely! I blubbered like a baby watching the video of all the kiddos throughout the year with the sappy songs playing, like ‘let them be little’ and ‘thank God for kids’… yep, blubbering FOOL!

This year has literally flown by.. and it really has me thinking that tomorrow I will be attending his high school graduation. That causes the tears to flow and my chest to tighten… Hold on, I feel a panic attack coming on………………………………………



Ok, I’m back.  I’ll be the first to admit that I never saw this coming.  I was so proud of myself and the way I handled him going to ‘not real‘ school…. but here’s the problem… Next year he will be gone ALL DAY long.  What will I do?

As a Mother, I worry about everything under the sun.  What if he needs help going to the bathroom?  What if he doesn’t remember to wash his hands?  What if he gets a tummy ache and they can’t get a hold of me?  What if he is being bullied by some big ole’ meanie?  What if…? You see where I’m going with this.  I’m sure it is the same stuff that Mothers have worried about for generations.  I guess this is the beginning of learning to let go and trusting that what you have taught them so far will be put to use.

I am so thankful for Lane’s Pre-K teacher.  She really is a wonderful example of everything a teacher should be.  Lane absolutely loves her, as do I.  It takes a special person to do what she does, and she does it with such enthusiasm… you can tell that she really cares about each and every child that she teaches.  Lane has learned so much this year, and has grown beyond my imagination.  She really is responsible for him loving school as much as he does.

So here’s to the ending of one adventure… and the beginning of another.. and as they sang today “Kindergarten here we come, we know we’ll have lots of fun!”

Davis Family

Very touching story.. especially for dog lovers.

(I don’t know if this is a true story.. doesn’t really matter to me either way. It’s too touching not to share)

They told me the big black Lab’s name was Reggie, as I looked at him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly. I’d only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.

But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn’t hurt. Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie’s advertisement on the local news. The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn’t look like “Lab people,” whatever that meant. They must’ve thought I did.

But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie and his things, which consisted of a dog pad, bag of toys almost all of which were brand new tennis balls, his dishes and a sealed letter from his previous owner.

See, Reggie and I didn’t really hit it off when we got home. We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter told me to give him to adjust to his new home). Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too.
Maybe we were too much alike.

I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that. “Okay, Reggie,” I said out loud, “let’s see if your previous owner has any advice.”
____________ _________ _________ _________

To Whomever Gets My Dog:

Well, I can’t say that I’m happy you’re reading this, a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by Reggie’s new owner. I’m not even happy writing it. He knew something was different.

So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help you bond with him and he with you.

First, he loves tennis balls. The more the merrier. Sometimes I think he’s part squirrel, the way he hoards them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn’t done it yet. Doesn’t
matter where you throw them, he’ll bound after them, so be careful. Don’t do it by any roads.

Next, commands. Reggie knows the obvious ones —”sit,” “stay,” “come,” “heel.”

He knows hand signals, too: He knows “ball” and “food” and “bone” and “treat” like nobody’s business.

Feeding schedule: twice a day, regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.

He’s up on his shots. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet. Good luck getting him in the car. I don’t know how he knows when it’s time to go to the vet, but he knows.

Finally, give him some time. It’s only been Reggie and me for his whole life. He’s gone everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily car rides if you can. He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn’t bark or complain. He just loves to be around people, and me most especially.

And that’s why I need to share one more bit of info with you…His name’s not Reggie. He’s a smart dog, he’ll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt. But I just couldn’t bear to give them his real name. But if someone is reading this … well it means that his new owner should know his real name. His real name is “Tank.” Because, that is what I drive.

I told the shelter that they couldn’t make “Reggie” available for adoption until they received word from my company commander. You see, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could’ve left Tank with .. and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call to the shelter … in the “event” … to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my CO is a dog-guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said he’d do it personally. And if you’re reading this, then he made good on his word.

Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family. And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family, too, and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he
loved me.

If I have to give up Tank to keep those terrible people from coming to the US I am glad to have done so. He is my example of service and of love. I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades.

All right, that’s enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. Maybe I’ll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth.

Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss goodnight – every night – from me.

Thank you,

Paul Mallory
____________ _________ _________ _______

I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. Sure, I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver
Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer.

I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the dog.

“Hey, Tank,” I said quietly.

The dog’s head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright.

“C’mere boy.”

He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn’t heard in months. “Tank,” I whispered.

His tail swished.

I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my
face into his scruff and hugged him.

“It’s me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me.” Tank reached up and licked my cheek.

“So whatdaya say we play some ball?” His ears perked again.

“Yeah? Ball? You like that? Ball?”

Tank tore from my hands and disappeared into the next room. And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.

Where were you?

April 19th, 1995 will forever be etched in the memories of millions who watched in horror.  It’s one of those moments in time where you will never forget where you were and what you were doing at the exact moment of hearing the news.  As I sit and watch the National Memorial television coverage today, all of the emotions from that day are instantly brought to the surface.

This isn’t suppose to happen here… and especially at the hands of one of our own.  It’s hard to even imagine that such evil exists.. but sadly it does.

I was sitting in Mr. Brown’s American History class, my Junior year of high school when a friend walking in with tears in her eyes telling us what had happened. Immediately televisions were rolled in to classrooms as we all sat silently watching in disbelief.  The rest of the day seems like a blur… but for me, that moment is one that I will never forget.

The following day.. my Mom, a friend of mine, and I went and volunteered for the Red Cross to help out in any way we could. I remember working in the make-shift supply building that they had set up to organize all of the supplies and donations that were pouring in.  It’s one thing to see it on television…. but it was a very different, chilling experience to see the mangled building live and in person.   I can still see the exhausted search and rescue workers covered in dust and debris… how brave each and every one were.. they are truly heroes.

It was an experience that changed me in a way that is really hard to describe…. it’s one of those times that you feel helpless, but also have the strong need to do something…. how ever small or insignificant it may seem at the time. Just something.  The most vivid memory for me that day wasn’t the sight of the destroyed building, believe it or not… it was when a fireman came to us and asked for all of the large black trash bags that we could find because they had run out of body bags.

It’s true what they say… “What doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger.”  Oklahoma was forever changed that day… 168 lives lost. Mothers, Fathers, Husbands, Wives, Sons, Daughters, Sisters, Brothers, Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Friends… and all of those precious babies. God bless each and every one of you who lost loved ones, and God bless the search and rescue teams and volunteers.. the heroes from that day, and the many that followed…those who walked on 2 legs and the ones who walked on 4.

Never forget.