Needs and Wants

This time of year many people start thinking about the things they want.
My kids start getting pushed by their grandparents for Christmas lists.
We sat around my cousin's dining table yesterday going over the ads, looking at things we wanted and joked about if they were things we needed or wanted.

There are a lot of things I want, but in the scheme of everything else, there isn't anything I need.

I want a new stovetop. A wonderful gas 5 burner would be lovely. But, do I need it? Nope. Anytime I get grumpy about the one I have all it takes is a thought of the little house up in the mountains of China where Aaron, Stephie, Cassie and I stayed one weekend. They cooked our food on an open fire in their kitchen. That was their stovetop. That was also the only thing in their kitchen except for a table.

An oven with a door that really closed properly would also be lovely. But, do I need it? Nope. I know people that use old oil drums for their ovens. The majority of people in the world don't have ovens. My oven is a luxury.

The plumbing in our house is old and creaky. Comes from being in an older home and living on the ever shifting North Texas soil. I really don't think God ever intended house to be built on this stuff. Dealing with this plumbing can get really frustrating. Our guest bathroom makes me crazy if I let it. I would love to rip it all out and start over. But, you know what? I've got indoor plumbing. I don't have to walk to the neighborhood well or go to the creek to get my water. In another country we had to climb over two fences and squat over the openings in the floor while sharing the space with a pig. My indoor plumbing with clean running water is a luxury. Wanting better plumbing is a want, but it isn't a need.

I want a new camera. I've always loved photography, but I can't really pinpoint my motives for having one, so it is definitely a want, a luxury. I would probably waste a lot of time with it. I've got lots of friends that are fabulously talented photographers. I'll just enjoy their photos.

I want a Wilton icing thingy-a-bob like Lacey has. But, I want it just because I think it is really cool and fun. Lacey uses hers all the time because baking and decorating is one of Lacey's gifts and how she blesses people. My motives aren't pure like that. So, I am trying to convince myself that I don't want one. I know I definitely don't need one. Not even sure I would use it all that often. It would be a waste of money for me to have one. Most of the people in the world can't even afford to buy one frosted cupcake.

Today more than a billion people in the world live and die in desperate poverty. They attempt to survive on less than a dollar per day. Close to two billion others live on less than two dollars per day. That's nearly half the world struggling today to find food, water, and shelter with the same amount of money I spend on french fries for lunch. David Platt in his book, Taking Back Your Faith From The American Dream - Radical

Needs and wants. They're different.
Lots of things I want. Nothing I need.

6 Can Soup with a sweet potato thrown in

Man, it's been a long time since I've been here. Hope I can remember how to do this.

The following recipe was inspired by my cousin, Beverly. Or, at least I think the 7 Can Soup recipe got passed into my family by Beverly. Anyway, I'm giving Beverly the credit. I'm sure cousins will be more than happy to it out if I am wrong.

This is what I did:

1 medium sweet potato, chopped into bite size pieces
1 can pinto beans
1 can white kidney beans
1 can diced tomatoes with jalapeno peppers
1 can diced fire roasted salsa style tomatoes
1 can white hominy
1 can yellow hominy

I threw it all in my crockpot and cooked it on high for about 5 hours or so.

I also made brown rice with a healthy dose of fresh cilantro, garlic powder, black pepper, and about a teaspoon of salt.

Not being a fan of sweet potatoes, I was unsure if I would really like it, but I did.

Pacing, Pressure, and Championship Basketball

A few weeks ago I could be found sitting, or actually, pacing at a basketball game. Here are some of my thoughts:

I'm sitting at the Regional II Division I NJCAA Championship game. It's half-time and Eddie's team is down. This game has been proof to me that it's a good thing I'm not my sister. It takes a very special person to be a coach's spouse. I couldn't take the pressure. I can't take the pressure as the sister-in-law! Sarah looked at me at one point and asked if I was okay. I wasn't. I felt green and not in the environmentally friendly way. I don't know any of these girls personally, but right now they might as well be my flesh and blood.

The game continued. I don't think I sat during the second half. The top row was clear and I paced while texting my brother the scores and minutes left. My sister was pacing the balcony isle and Eddie's sister had a corner in the upper level walked out.

The Cowgirls came back from being 25 points behind and it was back and forth and back and forth. They were ahead until the last couple of seconds. The other team sunk a 3 pointer putting them one point ahead. As I was staring at the clock in shock I glanced down just in time to see a Cowgirl make a basket on the buzzer! It was UNREAL! The place went nuts!

I'm so proud of Eddie, even though I have nothing to do with his coaching abilities. And I'm proud of my sister. And I can take credit for that. Every good thing she has ever learned came from me! Hahahaha! I really don't see how she does it. I would be a complete and total basket case during basketball season.

So, congratulations to the Connors State College Cowgirls on their 30-5 season. I'm so happy I was there for that amazing game.

Beatles, Birthdays, and A Hangin'

Clay and I took a trip last Sunday. It was an hour and fifteen minute trip (one way), but he felt the need to bring six Beatles cds. And that is fine, because I like the Beatles. I'm just not sure we needed all six of the cds. I will say that I've found myself humming a lot of Beatles in the last couple of days.

Our drive took us to Prairieville. Now, I know there a couple of you that think that is a lovely name for a town, but it really isn't. In your mind you are hearing "Prayer REE ville". That ain't how we natives say it. It is pronounced "Prayer VULL". You can always tell when you're talking to a newcomer when they tell you they live in "Prayer REE ville". You have to tell them that they don't live there. They live in "Prayer VULL" and just need to accept that fact.

But none of that has to do with the reason we were there. My Aunt Peggy was honored by her gigantic family with a surprise 75th birthday party. I asked her if she was really surprised and she said she knew something was up because too much stuff was disappearing from her house. The kids and grandkids had tried to sneak out photos and decorations that had to do with her roles as Mother and Grammy.

Aunt Peggy had 9 children. And they have had a slew of children. And now those children are having children. I get so tangled up when I start trying to figure out exactly who belongs where.

Her life has never been easy. She is only three years older than my dad. I imagine she was constantly trying to keep him out of trouble or getting in it with him. He told about a time they went into Mabank and watched a western and came home and decided to hang someone like they did in the movie. It was a huge blessing that the rope they chose was extra long, so when my dad shoved Aunt Peggy off the hay loft she hit the ground before the rope ran out. She also hit the ground right as their mother walked into the barn. Apparently she wasn't very happy with them.

She has buried two sons, a husband, grandchildren, siblings, nieces, and friends. Her road has been very, very rough. Most people would have given up, self destructed, or become so bitter no one would want to be around them. Not Aunt Peggy. She is a light. She always has a smile and a helping hand. Her memory blows me away, but I guess if you are going to have that many children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren you better sharp. Not only does she pour her life into her family and extended family (like we lucky nieces, nephews, cousins and such) but she has also worked hard in the nursing field forever and a day.

I don't know exactly which person put together the slide show for the party, but it just about put some of us on the floor. Summer kept laughing at the clothes, because she and her 3 sisters got their hand me downs and she was recognizing outfits. Dreama and I just about lost it when a picture came up of Shane with a almost day-glo orange spray-on-tan. And there was the picture of Wayne with his Fabio hair. There was a lot of laughter mixed with some tears as we watched time pass before us.

The family did a lovely job honoring her. She is a lovely lady with a lot of spunk and sweetness.

Happy Birthday, Aunt Peggy!

This Could Explain Some Things

My sister sent me one of those surveys.

Here is her answer to "What was your favorite toy as a child?"

My Baby Alive, who lost the top of her head when I washed her hair and you could see the mechanical stuff move. That made her so much cooler.

My answer to that same question was:

BB Gun

I really don't want to know what my brother's answer would be.

What Were They Thinking?

I don't go shopping much. A jog to Target here and many jogs to Kroger there, but almost no casual shopping - ever. So, when my little sister came down to the big city last Saturday we hit some stores. I liked the cinnamon roll Sarah bought me at IKEA the best. Aimeelouhoo had to buy some pumps and would you believe that in their little bitty Oklahoma town there is not one place to buy pumps? Cowboy boots, yes - pumps, no.

Sarah found the perfect shoe. That was the problem. There was only one. Even Aimeelouhoo's boyfriend was put to work searching for the other one. No luck. I did find one that sort of matched. It was also a left shoe. I told her no one would notice that she was wearing two left shoes. She didn't go for it.

We apparently spent too much time in the shoe area of Ross, because RinneyRoo and I had too much fun taking these pictures.

I encourage the three people that read this blog to vote for the shoes they feel deserve the title: "Ugliest Pair of Shoes Found On 1/24/09"

Henry and Henry

This is Henry.
And this is Henry.


I don't have a problem keeping them apart. Some in my family find it confusing. They don't look anything alike to me. I can pretty much tell a dog from a human. I guess it's just a talent of mine. We had to tell Callie to stop calling the human Henry like a dog. She was using the same tone and pattern calling him that she uses calling dog Henry. I don't understand it.

Dog Henry is six and has had his name for over two years. The morning he was given to me I had the thought that if I ever got a Yorkie, I would name it Henry. Turns out, his name was already Henry. Dog Henry feels it is his duty to keep the squirrels out of our backyard. He is very serious about his job. When spying one he whines until he is let out the door, then he sails after it. Last week he finally discovered that they run up the trees. They don't just disappear. So he treed the squirrel. It was a pretty funny sight. The squirrel was twenty feet off the ground scolding away at him. I don't know what will happen if he ever has the misfortune of actually catching one. They're almost as big and he is and their teeth and claws are a lot sharper.

Human Henry is my adorable nephew. He doesn't have a hairy face. That helps me tell them apart. That, plus the fact that one is a dog and one is a human. Nephew Henry loves to jump on beds. Dog Henry isn't allowed to jump on beds. Nephew Henry is also a very messy eater, but we love him anyway. He takes after his father, my brother. We love James too. Or, at least we try.

Deviled Eggs and Chocolate Pies

I survived three Thanksgiving celebrations...I think. And I got through it without putting any turkey or ham in my mouth. Neither are favorites.

I made four pecan pies for the get-togethers, but I was craving Lezlee's chocolate pies. And she didn't disappoint. I was absolutely giddy when she walked in with two 10-inch beauties.

And Judith's deviled eggs! Yes!

More Than Groggy

My mom called me at 10:30 this morning and said she was groggy from her afternoon nap. My thinking was she was more than groggy 'cause it wasn't afternoon.

Her mornings are starting at 2 a.m. She's at her station by 3 a.m. Yesterday they prepared 36,000 lunches and then turned around and made 36,000 dinners. That is just one kitchen. There are 4 in Galveston. Mom is part of the SBTC Disaster Relief Team.

The work is beyond grueling, but she loves it. It's one of those things that you hate that it has to be done, but you love doing it. It is the same feeling I get from being at the Union Gospel Mission. I hate that homelessness exists, but I'm happy there are ways I can help out.

So, please pray for stamina for my mom and the others that are working hard and for those that are without so much.

Saying Goodbye to Phyllis

I didn’t know if I would make it through Phyllis’ funeral. I didn’t want to pack to go to Mabank. It made her death too real. If I didn’t pack, maybe it would just be a dream. If I get too still or too quiet, the pain becomes overwhelming. It helps to have a huge crazy extended family. We all loved Phyllis. In between all the tears was a lot of laughter. My dad and her son-in-law did a great job at the service. It was hard on both of them. Phyllis and my dad had a great connection. They liked to go riding together. Dad on one of his mules. Phyllis on whatever Dad stuck her on. Sometimes his choice for her steed didn’t go so well. She hit me at my shoulder and I’m 5’4”. She had short little legs. When she was at my house before Christmas she told me about Dad putting her on one of his really big mules and she was on it for 4 hours. She was not happy with him and, of course, the way she was relating the story made me laugh till I cried. Dad told his version of what happened at the funeral. It was pretty funny too, because he had totally not thought about how uncomfortable Phyllis would be on that wide animal. Mike shared about how whacked he thought it was when Phyllis announced she wanted Dreama and him to help her put her tombstone in place. She had found out that she could save $250 by setting it herself. She had a lot of fun that day posing with her tombstone. No one at that time realized how quickly it would be used to mark her body’s final resting place.

We’re a crazy family. Thursday night I told Dreama, Suzette, and Donna that this was enough. “No more cousins dying.” Suzette said, “I’ve already told Pat she’s next.”

Laughter and knowing that Phyllis is happier in heaven then a pig in the perfect mud hole keeps us going.

My Dad is in Iowa

I didn't talk to my dad on Father's Day. He is in Iowa with a relief/recovery team. I'm proud of him.

We buried my cousin yesterday

She had just turned 47. Feeling horrible from a headache, Tammy drove herself to the emergency room. Entering, she collapsed and died. It turns out that she had a heart defect that she was probably born with. The doctor said there would have been no symptoms. She left behind a husband, son, daughter, and granddaughter. And lots and lots of aunts, uncles, and cousins.

We grew up in the same small East Texas town. The kind where everyone knows everybody. The funeral home was packed beyond capacity. Every possible space was used for overflow. My father's parents had 29 grandchildren. We have gone on to produce a huge number. Tammy was my oldest first cousin's first child. She beat her twin, Tim, by a few minutes. So the family took its fair share of the seats, but many classmates and townspeople filled the place. I saw people that I thought were old when I was a child.

This is the first time I have lost a cousin so close to my age. Maybe that is why it has been so hard. It has hung with me almost every minute since my sister called last Wednesday afternoon with the news. Tammy was a spitfire. She was more than happy to tell you exactly what she thought. She and her siblings were extremely close. Knowing that they were hurting and then witnessing it was horrific. My dad conducted the service. It wasn't his first time to bury a niece or nephew, but that doesn't make it any easier. He did a great job while displaying the sense of humor that keeps our huge family semi-sane.

At the viewing on Saturday night, my youngest son saw a boy and made the comment, "That boy in the green shirt looks suspiciously like me." I asked my mom who it was because he had walked further on and I couldn't see him well in the street light. The funeral home had been packed for the viewing and I hadn't noticed a kid in a green shirt. Mom said it was Tricia's (Tammy's sister) son. I told Clay that the reason they looked suspiciously alike was because they were cousins and it must be the Sapp genes flowing through them. What is weird is that they are fourth cousins and they do look alike.

So, our family will continue on. We will have more painful days. Many of us recognize Who is in control and that keeps us going. That makes our crazy family strong. That is why we can go for a long time and not see each other and yet take up where we left off as if we saw each other every day. Of course, many do still live in the small East Texas town or have found their way back over the years. They let us come back to visit from time to time and don't hold our desertion against us.

My cousin is gone, but she is remembered with love by a huge mess of people.