Sunday, April 27, 2008


I made a day trip to my birth place Saturday to visit my aunt and uncle. They live in the house I grew up in until the age of 10 when we moved to Texas.

I haven't considered Lawton "home" for a very long time. I truly am Texan, not by birth, but by choice. Still, there is something to be said about going back to what once was my home.

I have fond memories of people, places, and my elementary school. Garfield Elementary. Terry Martin, Principal. Betty Jo Givens, my kindergarten teacher. Miss Priddy, my first grade teacher who made me eat the disgusting mashed potatoes. Miss Foster whose birthday is January 29th, Miss Chidester who asked me to represent the 3rd grade at the Bicentennial celebration, and Mrs. Beckman, the meanest teacher in school. I also have dear memories of my music teacher, but her name escapes me.

I drove down the street I had walked since Kindergarten and thought that something didn't look quite right. Then it hit me. My elementary school had been torn down. According to my cousin, this happened a couple of years ago. Apparently, they had an issue with mold.

I close my eyes and I can hear voices bouncing off the tile. I remember we didn't have air conditioning when I was there. I remember buying a bag of popcorn every Friday for a dime. I remember gathering in the auditorium to watch films. I remember saying the Pledge of Allegiance to the small flag attached to the top of the teacher closet in each room.

I have vivid memories of walking home, hand in hand with Mark McGee, when the air around us exploded with the sound of tornado sirens. Oh Mark...I had such a huge crush on him(it started at the age of 5 and continued until a year after I moved). He lived a couple doors down from my grandparents. Mark had black hair, piercing blue eyes, and an infectious smile. He teased me unmercifully throughout every grade. I lost track of him after high school and to this day, still wonder what happened to him.

Anyway, my beloved little elementary school is no more. To my consternation, it was rather upsetting and I got a bit teary eyed. I'm not sure why it bothered me. I left it all behind in fourth grade.

Maybe its the loss of a small part of myself.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Hockey Humor

....Shane, your wit is....well, witty. Thanks for the laughs....

Steve Ott (Dallas #29): "Don't push me there! You're gonna make me fart....err...too late!!"
Check out the referee's grimace...oohh that smell

Marty Turco (Dallas #35): "LOOKIE!!! This is my impersonation of a seal. Arf, Arf, Arf! (clapping gloves together)"

Thursday, April 24, 2008

The Greater Plan

A friend asked me an interesting question the other day. If God loves His people, why does it seem that those who believe and love Him fervently, suffer the most? Good question.

I really don't know that answer. I've wondered that same thing many times. I feel as though I've had more than my fare share of trials. I emerge from each one a better person. My faith in God remains. But, why do I have to continue to suffer?

There is the adage that God will not give us more than we can handle. In the back of my mind, I would like to think the believer would have an easier road. Then again, if our road was easy, would we forget to offer our praises to God? Would our pride take over? Would we be convinced that our success is a result of our own abilities?

I wish I could answer the question. It would help me as I ponder what could be my aunt's final days (see "Jesus Wept"). She loves the Lord, has an unshakeable faith, but her cancer is back and is beginning to consume her.

What God has in store for her is more than I can imagine.

He is in control of the greater plan.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Southern Girl With Hockey Fever

...Some like it hot. I like it ice cold....

Sunday night, my Dallas Stars, ended any potential repeat Stanley Cup victory for the Anaheim Ducks. As one of my closest 18,351 friends' sign proclaimed, "Duck Season Ends Tonight" and it did. For the first time since 2003, the Stars advanced past Round 1 of the playoffs.

So, how did a Texan fall in love with hockey? It goes back many years, when I first moved to Texas. I attended my first hockey game, the CHL's Dallas Blackhawks. I was at one game during their final season prior to the league ultimately folding, I was 15. DFW was sans hockey until 1992, when the CHL was reborn. I attended a few Fort Worth Fire games. Then in 1993, the Minnesota North Stars relocated to Dallas.

The NHL in Dallas? Are you kidding me? This is a football town. It still is. Football is king in Texas for most folks (and I enjoy watching it). But it doesn't rule this gal. I'll take hockey any day of the week.

I'm not sure what it is about hockey that strikes a resounding chord. I'm not from up north where hockey rules. I can't ice skate to save my life. I didn't attend a college where hockey was part of the extra-curricular activities. I've never dated anyone who likes hockey. How is it that I am a season ticket holder, for three years running?

Maybe its "man in uniform" syndrome. 'Cause I will tell you there is something really hot about a guy in a hockey sweater, pants and skates. Perhaps it is the players' ability to stop on a dime or reverse direction instantaneously. It could be a myriad of other things: the "shush" sound of skates on ice, the crack of a slap shot, the grunt of a check, the ping of the puck hitting the pipes, the roar of the crowd, the amazing bendablity of the net-minder, the athleticism of every guy on the ice.

Or maybe is just the fact that hockey is all-go-no-stop, check you until it hurts, blue line, center ice, face off, shoot out, fighting, agitating, in your face action.

Whatever it is, this chick LOVES every single minute of it.