Over the weekend we went to the Professor's 50th high school reunion. I think I actually saw more people I was close to than Prof did, as a couple of my brother's close friends were there, plus a girl from my class. Every time I see her she tells the story of how we were driving down to Austin, with my father asleep in the back seat, and I got stopped by a cop for doing 100 mph. (Actually, I think it was only 95.) What can I say? -- I was 17, maybe 16, and I just got in a zone where I was passing every car in sight. This story used to really embarrass me but Saturday night I realized that that incident was my first experience in talking my way out of a ticket, something I have done pretty well ever since. Not that I speed. Oh no, I wouldn't do that. Trust me.

Now I am in Lousiana. I got a room at my favorite hotel, the one I absolutely could not get into for two years. The last time I was here I could not get on the internet, but I thought I would give it one more try. And everything is working. So I have had my crab au gratin dinner, served with the best cole slaw and the best hush puppies in the world; I have shopped at the outlet mall; I have even squeezed sales calls into my schedule.

About that shopping... I wouldn't say that I have short legs, but I bought the cutest pair of pants with cuffs and they are the perfect length, no hemming required. And do you know how I found these perfect pants? -- They are capris. I wish I were kidding but, sadly, no.

This should put things in perspective. I know it did that for me.

PresentStorm's cousin Tim died last Sunday. He was 33, a kind, decent hard-working young man. He was one of those rare people that you meet who you like instantly, who always seem interested in everyone and everything around them.

Tim left his amazing wife Tracy, a 17 year old son TJ and a 9 year old son Travis, who has cerebral palsy and is confined to a wheelchair. I have mentioned Travis before, the child with the smile that could light up a city, the one who makes you feel glad just to be alive because of his beautiful spirit. Tracy was going to have a tough enough time, but there's more.

Tracy's mom died the same day Tim did. Not only did she have to deal with those two losses at once, but there is a brother with Down's Syndrome and it looks like Tracy will have to care for him. I am reminded of something Mother Teresa said:

"I know God never gives you more than you can handle, but sometimes I wish He didn't trust me quite so much."

I met Tim and Tracy at Guppy's and PresentStorm's wedding. We talked late into the evening, and Tracy said something that night that may be the perfect epitaph for Tim, and that shows her incredible character:

"I am so blessed. You see how Tim is with Travis. I could not have asked for a better man."

May he rest in peace. And could you all say a little prayer for Tracy to have the strength to deal with all that has been put upon her plate.

UPDATE: I just learned that Tim's parents are planning to sell their house and Tracy's and they will all buy a house together. That way there will be enough hands to care for Travis and the brother with Down's Synmdrome. Note that the brother (whose name I don't know) is no blood relation to Tim's parents, yet they are willing to go share their home with him and help care for him. I am so humbled by the innate goodness in this family.

The Professor and I went to visit his daughter and family in Connecticut. We had a wonderful time -- walked the Freedom Trail in downtown Boston, went to Cape Cod, checked out the Cliff Walk and some of the mansions in Newport RI, went to a beach somewhere in Rhode Island, and just generally enjoyed ourselves. The weather was, oh, maybe 25 or 30 degrees colder than it is here and the wind came directly from the North Pole and did not pass go or collect $200. So when we went to the beach, rather on the spur of the moment, we had to dig around in their car for warm outer garments. I thought we looked like Homeless Day at the Beach.

I was much too clever to let anyone take a full-length picture of me, as I wearing a jacket that came down to my knees. But they were laughing so hard at me that I had to get a self portrait. I thought I looked kinda cute in the fur-lined bomber helmet.

Note that I DID NOT take a full-length shot. I have some pride.

On Saturday afternoon I got a call from the teenager who was feeding the cats. She said the streets were flooded because we got ten inches of rain in two hours. She was saying something about a window that I never understood (because all teenagers seem to speaking Greek on the phone),but later Guppy called to tell me that 3 houses on my street had been hit by a tornado. I called our police department, where they would not verify addresses but said that all the damage was minor.

Either the tornado jumped over my house or the little bunker we turned it into was too strong because there was no structural damage. But my lawn swing and park bench, which survived hurricane Ike with no problem, looked like this:


One piece of that broken metal was stabbed into the earth deep enough that we will have to dig it out.

Of course, this tornado was inevitable. There are 8 or 10 families living in travel trailers in their front yards. You know how tornadoes always head for the trailer parks.

Last night I kept noticing big splashes out in the bay. A school of huge fish? No, it was a flock of pelicans feeding. They kept it up for at least an hour. I think you can click on the picture to make it bigger and see the pelicans better.

For some rare and unknown reason, we had a cold front. In April. In Houston. When the wind is out of the north, it blows the water off the shore and we have a beach.

You notice the remains of a long-gone fence, which is usually well under water -- just one of the many reasons why no one swims in the bay. Except for all those fish.

This is our neighborhood dock, and you can clearly see how high the water normally is. A couple of us are starting to talk about a dock party -- that's where we get together and nail the boards back onto the pilings, which we have to do after tropical storms and hurricanes. But since at least a third of the people in the neighborhood are either living elsewhere or in a trailer in their driveway, we've all had more important things on our minds than the dock. But I think it's time for those of us whose houses are pretty much back together to make things more normal for everyone.

So far, April is shaping up like a marathon. I will have Easter here for the family. On the 16th we will leave to visit Prof's daughter and her family in Connecticut for 5 days. We get back on a Monday; the following weekend we go to Dallas for Prof's 50th high school reunion. I am campaigning with my company to go to the API spring meeting in Denver; if they say yes, I will fly from Dallas to Denver EARLY Monday morning -- like before the sun rises early -- and then home to Houston Wednesday night. And I really should go to Louisiana next week. I love to travel, but I hate it when it all comes at the same time.

My company is having a huge reorganization. Supposedly we will find out this week just where our territory is, who we report to, even what segment of our market we will focus on. I am not worried because at the sales meeting in March I cornered the two top executives and shamelessly told them all my accomplishments, ending with a little wail about how I am finally at a point in my career where I know some things and I know some important people and I would hate to think the company would waste that. I was assured on the spot that the company would, indeed, take advantage of what I have learned. (I should be ashamed of doing that, but I'm not. ) So now I know what I will be focusing on, but the customers I call on and the area I call in and who I will report to are still unknown. And that is why, even though the territory needs a salesman in Louisiana next week, I'm not sure that it should be me.

Over the years I have murdered a lot of plants because I bought more than I could get in the ground. So on Saturday when I went to the nursery I used every bit of self-restraint I could muster to only buy as many flowers as I knew I could plant. And, of course, most of them are still sitting in the garden, waiting to be planted. The year of remodeling plus the months spent getting the newly remodeled house in order plus the months spent repairing the hurricane damage to the newly remodeled house equals a totally neglected yard. In order to plant anything, I first have to dig up the grass and weeds that took over.

Now this is weird. I had an Antique Blush rose bush. It was so hardy it would withstand drought, bugs, prolonged fog, even salt spray. You would think if anything could take a big drink of salt water and come out smiling, that would be the plant. But no, it's dead. My little pedigreed red rose, on the other hand, is happy as it can be. I made the Professor a very happy man when I asked him to go use the chain saw on the dead rose bush. Of course he didn't stop there -- what's a chain saw for if not to prune things? -- but he surprised me with his discretion. His daughter has told me the story of When Dad Pruned the Roses With a Chain Saw, which apparently did not have a happy ending. Perhaps he finally grew up?

And Yoda has made me so proud. I blogged a year or two ago about how Chula was getting old and I saw a squirrel chasing her. Yesterday Yoda was helping me in the garden (he digs just like a dog!) when he noticed a squirrel. They have gotten very smug, thinking they are safe from animals in our yard, so they sit on the ground and taunt us. Well, either Yoda was well hidden by the plants or the squirrel was convinced that no cat is a threat, because Yoda had plenty of time to notice the squirrel, hunch down on his front paws, wiggle his little butt like he's winding up a rubber band, and launch himself at amazing speed. By the time I caught up he was sitting at the base of a pecan tree, looking up to see if there was another fun toy he could chase. I am thinking that with Yoda on guard, I may actually get my pecans this year. See, I really do have a guard cat!