All posts by Peggy1963

Missing You

When Peggy and I were dating we spent most of our time apart since we went to different colleges. There was a John Waite song that came out during this time called “Missing You.” Even though that song was really about a break-up, I think about it a lot when Peggy and I are not together. Every time I think of you, I always catch my breath…

I have been back in San Antonio for a couple of weeks after the trip home that was extended by a hurricane. I will be going back to Baton Rouge this weekend for the football game and just to spend time with Peggy. It has been a while since we have been apart this much, and I really don’t like it. When she got her first job after college we both traveled quite a bit for work, and then her next job had her traveling about thirty-five weeks a year. It was bad enough that when the doctor asked us if we had any idea when Mike was conceived we were able to give her an exact date — it was the only night we had spent together that month. One benefit, the doc didn’t have any trouble giving us a due date.

When I am in San Antonio I live with my brother and his wife. The three of us also work together, so it is pretty convenient. I get to hang out with their two dogs, one of whom loves to come visit me upstairs. But I don’t get to see Peggy.

I chose this for us. With the birth of a grandchild, I really couldn’t see moving Peggy away from the kids. I don’t mind the driving back and forth, and we really love our life in Baton Rouge. Good church, great friends, grandbaby, LSU, new tiger — there is so much there to enjoy.

But I would be lying if I said it isn’t hard. Peggy and I have been together for almost thirty-seven years. It was one thing to be apart when we were dating. It was even almost OK when we were first working in our careers. But, the “empty nest” is meant to be enjoyed together.

Tonight in Baton Rouge she had dinner with Mike, Caitie and the baby. They sent me this picture: 

Family time minus one

Every time I think of you…

Back Porch Time

When Peggy and I bought the house in Baton Rouge, it had everything we wanted — three bedrooms, three baths, completely renovated, huge master closet, brick floor in the kitchen, covered parking. It checked all of the boxes except one.

We are outside people. Ten months out of the year you will find us sitting outside on the porch most evenings. The Baton Rouge house did not have a back porch, so the first thing we did upon moving into the house is add a covered back porch.

It’s a beautiful thing. There was a small half-moon concrete slab outside the back door, so we extended the paving to fill the gap between the two “wings” of the house and added pavers on top of the concrete. The slope of the roof didn’t allow us to just continue the roof line onto the porch covering, so we had to come up with a different plan. I called someone that was recommended by a friend, and we went and saw a sample of his work. It is a “floating” cover that is attached to the sides of the house. So the awning doesn’t disrupt the view, and so water doesn’t run off the front, it is inverted to be higher in the front and lower in the back. The rain (which is fairly common in south Louisiana) runs back toward the house and into the high capacity gutters. It is a really innovative design and it works like a charm.

During football season we put the television outside to watch the games. The two ceiling fans keep it from getting too hot and also help with the mosquitoes during certain times of the year. As it gets cooler we turn on the gas fire pit and enjoy the flames. We spend at least part of every evening out there.

This weekend we will do our home tailgating on the porch waiting for the LSU game to start. Tonight we fixed dinner and ate it out on the porch. It isn’t cool enough for the fire pit — though that doesn’t necessarily stop Peggy — but the fireflies are out in force. It is one of the many things that makes me love living here.

We’ll go out tomorrow for our Friday night date, and I bet we’ll end up back out on the porch. It’s just what we do.

A great night out on the porch

Unexpected time

The appearance and subsequent damage from Hurricane Harvey has given me an unexpected amount of time at home. Much of Houston is under water, so driving back to San Antonio right now is probably impossible and certainly not the best idea.

We lived in the Houston area in 2001 when Tropical Storm Allison came and sat over Houston for three days. The flooding from Harvey looks worse. And since it kept bouncing back out into the Gulf and coming ashore again, it destroyed things all the way from Corpus Christi to Lake Charles.

I have my computer here so I can work, but this also creates unexpected time with my new granddaughter. And, frankly, my new cat. And the new tiger at LSU (yes, I have been back to see him again). Interestingly, before he becomes Mike VII he will still be known by the name he had before he arrived on campus, which happens to be Harvey. Coincidence?

Back to the important stuff: we went to New Orleans yesterday to visit the baby. It was fun. She’s a genius and is eating, sleeping and pooping like a champ. You know, all the stuff a three-day-old baby has to master.

I hate that our friends in Houston are suffering, but I am going to take advantage of the opportunity that it presents. The whole lemons/lemonade thing.

I will stay here through the Labor Day weekend and then head back to San Antonio. I am sorry for the circumstances that created the opportunity, but it is good to have extended time at home.

Father and daughter. Cat-approved bonding.
This rottenness is what we came home to

Full Circle

Life is funny. My family moved away from New Orleans more than fifty years ago. Since then I have lived in Baton Rouge, Jackson, back to the New Orleans area (Slidell), Dallas, Baton Rouge, Waco, Dallas, San Antonio, Houston (Katy), Austin and Baton Rouge.

Today my first grandchild was born in the same hospital where I was born nearly 55 years ago. Full circle.

I have written before that I never thought I would get the opportunity to live in Baton Rouge again. I knew I would never live in New Orleans again. I guess I should have realized it was possible that my granddaughter could be born in the same hospital when Mike and Caitie decided to move to the New Orleans area, but there are a lot of choices in a city that size; including one just down the street from where they live. I never gave it a thought until it happened. But it’s pretty cool.

In case you are wondering, my daughter-in-law is a stud. She was in labor for well over twenty-four hours before she delivered. Before she delivered my granddaughter.

She’s perfect, Caitie and Mike are both doing well, and we are headed back to Baton Rouge. I have been awake since yesterday morning, so I am ready to get home. But I am doing OK, because I am now a grandfather.

There will be more to tell, and we are still worried about our friends that are dealing with Harvey. Right now, though, we are going home and going to bed.

As grandparents.

Aren’t they both beautiful?
I put the sleeper on her. My specialty…

Weather or Not

My family has what my wife calls “the weather gene.”

My grandfather owned a farm and a nursery (in addition to being a mortician and funeral director) and my father graduated from college with a degree in botany, so there is no real professional aspect to the weather expertise. Mostly just good ol’ practical experience.

But, whenever something starts churning around in the Gulf of Mexico this time of year, Peggy just kind of expects me to know what is going to happen. It is flattering if not always accurate.

I returned to San Antonio on Monday this week only to have a surprise of a hurricane show up in the western part of the Gulf. I know what you are thinking — San Antonio is pretty far inland to be worrying about a hurricane — and that is a true statement.

However, I have a grandbaby scheduled to come this week in New Orleans, and wherever that hurricane decides to go is likely between me and said grandbaby. Let me just say that the phrase “Come hell or high water” seems particularly appropriate.

Using my high-tech weather forecasting skills I determined that the hurricane was going to come ashore between Corpus Christi and Houston, so I decided to leave today and get on the other side of the storm. This decision became more important when Peggy called to tell me that Caitie was in labor and headed to the hospital.

There is nothing quite like driving into an area that is expecting a hurricane. Fill up your gas tank whenever you see gas available because there is not likely to be any available the closer you get to where the storm is supposedly headed. And don’t even think about finding bread or bottled water. Fortunately, fast food was readily available on the road.

I left San Antonio a little after noon with Peggy giving me updates on baby status via text message. Weather updates were a little easier to get — stick my hand out the window.

Getting through Houston was a predictable nightmare, but I got out of there before it got too bad. What should have been a nine hour drive turned into eleven before I got to the hospital in New Orleans.

Good news — I have not missed the birth of my grandchild.

Bad news — Caitie has now been in labor all day with no baby to show for it.

Good news — Hurricane Harvey is not likely to hit Baton Rouge or New Orleans, so I think we are in pretty good shape now that I am here.

Bad news — Hurricane Harvey is now between me and getting back to work. And he is going to do some damage before he is done.

I got here, and I will let you know when I have a grandchild.

For now, we are just waiting. And praying for those that are now in Harvey’s path.

The all-nighter. Visiting with our son and waiting on a grandbaby…

Long Weekend

I stayed at home an extra day this weekend.

You may recall that I had ankle surgery at the end of last year, and today was what will likely be the last follow-up visit with the surgeon. The surgery was largely unsuccessful, even after seven months of serious rehab work. Bummer.

But it meant I got to do something very important.

LSU has had a live tiger mascot since the 1930’s, and I have known all of them since Mike III. I would visit Mike III every time I came to campus, and he always came over and greeted me. Probably because I looked tasty.

Mike III died when I was about to start high school, so I had to develop a new relationship at an awkward time in life. Fortunately, Mike IV and I struck up a wonderful friendship. When I went to LSU in August of 1980 I lived in the football stadium. Mike’s enclosure was right outside my window, literally forty yards away. One of my favorite memories is when he would occasionally roar at night. I would frequently roar back. I spent many an evening sitting in my lawn chair outside his enclosure visiting with him, and we had many meaningful chats. I also took Peggy to meet him when we were dating. I know it was a lot of pressure, but Mike approved of her wholeheartedly. I think Peggy understood…

Mike IV — one night when I was in school he got out of his enclosure. Can you imagine running across that in the middle of the night?

Mike V had a glorious reign, including a football national championship and five baseball national championships. My visits with him were more limited since I lived so far away, but every time I came to see him he would meet me at the fence and roll for me. He also provided a personal highlight by “spraying” a group of obnoxious tourists who were yelling at him to come closer for a picture. He came closer, all right, and let ’em have it. Tiger justice.

My buddy Mike V

Mike VI may have been the most beautiful cat I have ever seen, and he had a wonderful personality to match. He was the mascot when I moved back to Baton Rouge, so he and I visited often. He oversaw a football national championship and a baseball national championship. He was extremely playful even when he became ill with the cancer that killed him. His death was a very sad day.

Mike VI “the Regal”

A lot of tiger history, but it sets up what happened today. Today was Mike VII’s first day on campus, and I got to be here to share it with him. He is just a baby — a 175-pound baby — but he walked right over to me, flopped and rolled for me. I told him that I had stuck around just to see him.  He is likely to be the biggest of all the mascots, but today he is still a kitten. I told him I would be back soon to visit. I think he was pleased, but it is hard to tell — we’re just getting to know each other.

Mike VII — mascotting is hard work for a young man. He flopped at my feet and took a little nap…

Too Soon

I have written a lot this year about the pain of losing parents as we get older. It sucks, but it is inevitable and is the way of the world. To be honest, the alternative — parents losing children — is much worse to me.

I am not ready to start losing friends.

We all have those tragic moments of death in youth. Two of my closest friends died together in a plane crash when I was 21. It was tragic and it was tough. But that’s not what I am talking about.

I’m talking about people my age or even a little younger. We got news today that the former husband of one of Peggy’s closest friends died this week. He was a year younger than me.

When we lived in Dallas we used to do things with Paige and Bruce. Paige was Peggy’s maid of honor and Peggy was a bridesmaid and I sang in Paige and Bruce’s wedding. When we left Dallas we would see them when we came to town, usually for dinner or lunch somewhere. Food and drink was an important part of the relationship. Sometimes too important a part, especially the drink.

Bruce didn’t die in a car accident. He didn’t commit suicide. He just died, and that is not supposed to happen to 53-year-old men. He was a week older than Peggy.

I suppose this is one of those moments that should cause me to think about being healthier, exercising more, eating less. In reality it just makes me sad. Even though Bruce and Paige were no longer married they were still close. They have been excellent parents to the son they share, and they have been very engaged in his life. I don’t think either of them ever held out any hope or desire for reconciliation, but they have remained very good friends.

I am truly sad for Paige, and I am truly sad for a young man losing his father while still a college student. He should have had many more years to get support and advice from his father.

Take care of yourselves, folks. And show the ones you love that you love them, every day.

Godspeed, Bruce. And God bless, Paige.

Peggy and Paige before our wedding — August 3, 1985

 

Road Warrior

My life as a road warrior began this week, living in Baton Rouge and working in San Antonio. I have decided to drive back home three weeks out of the month and have Peggy come visit San Antonio one weekend per month. There is one thing that will put a kink in those plans, though…

Today we drove from Baton Rouge to New Orleans to visit my son and his wife. As I have mentioned before, they are expecting our first grandchild in a couple of weeks. They wanted some pictures taken while great with child, so we drove over to visit with them and take some photographs. We also took them to lunch, and we took my nephew with us. Beautiful pictures, great food, good day.

Tomorrow I will get back in the car and drive to San Antonio. I will come back home next weekend unless I have a reason to come back sooner. If the grandbaby arrives anytime soon I do not think I am going to be seeing Peggy in San Antonio for a while. I’m good with that.

A new job brings with it a lot of uncertainty. I have a lot of time on the drive to think and sort through the things I need to do when I get back to San Antonio. I’m not going to lie and say that I enjoy the commute time but it doesn’t keep me from getting things done. And if I get fed up with the driving in a particular week I can always fly home.

We’re pretty stoked about the whole grandparent thing, so I don’t expect to get tired of the driving right away. It’s a little over a thousand miles a week. But I really don’t want to move and I really don’t want to take Peggy away from her first grandchild. Besides that, we love it here in Baton Rouge. And football season is about to start!

I’ll keep you posted.

Wonderful dinner after the pre-baby pictures

Last Night

I love bringing people with us to Colorado. Even though we do many of the same things each year when we come, sharing them with others keeps everything new and exciting. It is always a blast to see everything through someone else’s eyes.

I love it even more when we are here by ourselves. The guests are gone and it is just Peggy and me for a couple of days. There’s just something so relaxing about hanging out on the back deck looking up Keystone Mountain and enjoying the cool weather. Coffee in hand or wine in hand, just soaking it up at all times of the day.

We drive to Denver tomorrow to fly back to Baton Rouge. Then I will drive to San Antonio to start the new gig. Life is going to be changing in a major way when we get home, but here on the back deck everything is peaceful and perfect. Peggy loves it here and I love Peggy. So, by the associative property I love it here, too.

The real world waits for us but we don’t have to go back just yet.

We always stay on the back porch too long on the last night and end up in sweatshirts or blankets simply because we do not want it to end. We don’t want to leave the cool weather, we don’t want to leave the beautiful scenery, and we don’t want to leave the relaxation.

But we will leave. And, God willing, we’ll come back next year and do it all over again.

Last night relaxing
It doesn’t take long before you need the sweatshirts. Still daylight and 55 degrees!

Barber Shop

One of my guilty vacation pleasures is to visit the barber shop every year while we are in Colorado and get a haircut and a shave. Peggy calls it my “spa day” — I’m OK with that.

When I started going to Scott he was located in Dillon. I would grow a beard each summer (technically a Van Dyke) and let Scott either shave it off or trim it for me. It is kind of my end of summer ritual, even though we will still have at least two more months of summer when I return home to Baton Rouge.

A couple of years ago Scott moved up to a larger location in Frisco. He now has five or six barbers working for him and the place has become very busy. So busy, in fact, that my failure to make an advance online reservation proved to be fatal to my plan to have Scott do the job. Since today was the only time I had set aside I decided to walk in and take my chances.

The young man who cut my hair today did an excellent job, but he was nervous about the shave. He told me that he had not shaved anyone since he finished barber school a few months before. I told him to relax and do his best.

I am not giving his name because he cut me. It didn’t hurt, but any cut on your face bleeds like a mother. He was so upset by it that I was comforting him. It really was no big deal, but Scott came over and looked at it and said, “Guess who just got a free haircut?” I tipped the young man $20 and told him not to worry about it — chalk it up as an experience to improve his technique.

It did not ruin the experience at all, and I recommend the shop to anyone I know who is going to be in the Summit County area. Of course, next year I will make my reservation in advance. We went ahead and did everything we had planned to do for the day. But for now, I am going to try to get some sympathy mileage out of it.

Chicks dig scars. 

That’s gonna leave a mark…
…but it didn’t keep us from going to Vail with friends…
…or from finishing the day at Sapphire Point!