There's this one particular harbor

I like parts of this painting better than the last version. I like parts of the other one better. Maybe I could somehow combine the two. . .

More smeared paint

Someone suggested I try painting from a photo. And I had the photo of the Pedernales River, so I thought I would try that scene. I want to, eventually, paint more Texas type scenes.

I can tell you that I kinda like this. I hate the background. To dark, and too splotchy. I like the midground. I screwed up the sky. There should have been more clouds, but once the paint starts flyin' . . . And, I think I have figured out how to do bluebonnets. Unfortunately it was too late for this one.

So here's the original photo and my interpretation of it.

Someone has also suggested that I open a tent somewhere to sell these, to which I respond, "Can I learn to paint first?"

Where do YOU want to be today?

The inspiration:

Boat Drinks
Jimmy Buffett

Boat drinks
Boys in the band ordered boat drinks
Visitors scored on the home rink
Everything seems to be wrong

Lately, newspaper mentioned cheap air fare
I gotta to fly to saint somewhere
I'm close to bodily harm

Twenty degrees and the hockey games on
Nobody cares they are way too far gone
Screaming boat drinks, something to keep em all warm

This morning, I shot six holes in my freezer
I think I got cabin fever
Somebody sound the alarm

I'd like to go where the pace of life's slow
Could you beam me somewhere, Mr. Scott?
Any ol' place here on earth or in space
You pick the century and Ill pick the spot

Oh I know, (I know)
I should be leaving this climate
I got a verse but can't rhyme it
I gotta go where its warm

Boat drinks
Waitress I need two more boat drinks
Then I'm heading south fore my dream shrinks

I gotta go where its warm (I gotta go where its warm)
I gotta go where its warm (I gotta go where its warm)
I gotta go where its warm!

I gotta go where there ain't any snow
Where there ain't any blow
cause my fin sinks so low
I gotta go where its warm

Our Thanksgiving

This year, I suggested we try Alton Brown's Honey Brined Smoked Turkey Recipe for our bird.

It was FANTASTIC! We gave some to our neighbor, who told us later that she would buy us two turkeys if we would smoke both of them and give her one.

We boned the turkey and put it in a serving dish. Brandon filled his plate, and ate some and asked if we had ham too. When we told him that it was turkey, he said it was the best turkey he'd ever had. That's high praise coming from Brandon. He's a bit of a picky eater.

Rodney and Jeanne brought Katie and Brandon down, as if you couldn't tell, and we all had a great time. Katie even got up early to go to Wal-Mart for their Black Friday sale. And if you know Katie, she don't get up until the sun goes down!

Another painting

Yes, I know this is boring. I keep painting the same things! This one is a little different.

So, I watched Bob Ross on DVD and thought I'd try this painting again.

My previous attempt of this scene (Crap #4) was not as successful as I'd hoped. On #4, the background was okay (I could improve on the sky but the mountain rocked), the midground was kinda ehhh! (Nature does not work in even numbers. I learned that in ikebana class at Nagasaki Weslyan Junior College (now University) in 1984. (And, yes, I was pretty good at Japanese flower arranging, thank you very much. It was my favorite culture class. Thank God, Allah, Vishnu or The Flying Spaghetti Monster I didn't try to pick that up again! Fresh flowers every week? Oh! the humanity! And the $$$.....) The foreground, well, doesn't exist.

So in #8, I tried to create a foreground. I should have made the trees on the right bigger, and those on the left smaller. I should have made the land in the foreground extend more to the left. And, I should have had more highlights. But Rodney, my brother, was watching, and imitating Bob Ross, and I spent most of my time trying to paint and looking over my shoulder saying, "You want to paint this m*th*rf*ck*r!?" (Never paint with an audience. It never works. The forked path? That was Mom's idea. It's supposed to be a rock...)

Crap No. 7

Yet more paint smeared on canvas. I have to confess, however, that the glow across the painting is sunlight on the canvas.

You ever have an idea get away from you?

I had a definite idea in mind when I started this painting. Unfortunately, by the time I finished, I had forgotten what it was. And as I finished, I thought, "This sucks." But as it has been sitting around drying, it's growing on me. What do you think?

Yeah, I did it again

More paint smeared on canvas!

Crap Number 4

Monday was such a nice day, I thought I'd smear some paint onto a canvas.

I spent the morning watching the last series of "The Joy of Painting" by Bob Ross and picked up some tips. I'm still going to have to take a class, though. There are things I just can't seem to get.

Making Strides Against Breast Cancer five mile walk

My aunt, Ann Holt, is a breast cancer survivor. She is participating in a five mile walk to raise money for breast cancer research. My other Aunt Ann is also a breast cancer survivor. My late Aunt Sue survived breast cancer to die of bone cancer earlier this year. My late Aunt Johnnie passed away from cancer last year. That's why I have made a donation to support Aunt Ann in her five-mile walk. If you aren't contributing to someone you love, please consider supporting Ann P Holt. Thanks.

This is going to be harder than I thought

Here's today's painting. I tried to do it like the Hill Country Scene I posted the other day, but I missed my target. My vision of the painting slipped away.

Actually, I am somewhat happy with this one. The sky is lighter, but I am still having problems with clouds. The rolling hills turned out okay, and so did the tree on the left. The less said about the tree on the right, the better! The water is okay, but the grass land needs work.

I might try again tomorrow, but I need to master one thing at a time. I might try to do a sky with a cloud and a mountain. I bought some canvas boards for that purpose.

I hate to disappoint

This is the spot that today I would have revealed my latest painting. But it's been raining since Saturday. Maybe and I can squeeze it in tomorrow, when it's supposed to clear.

I had the oddest dream last night. I dreamt that my best friend, Ben Affleck, had come to town after losing out on the James Bond role. We hung out at the local ten story hotel called Corner Cottage, and watched them start filming before I left to go home. Um, Dr. Freud. . . ?

An idea for a painting

I went into a hotel in town and saw a painting similar to this and thought I should try it. Just because I haven't mastered Bob Ross' Wet on Wet technique (cf crap 1 and crap 2), doesn't mean I shouldn't try!

How a Comic Strip is Created

I am primarily a cartoonist, and have always been fascinated by the process of creating a comic book or comic strip. Here's a link to the official "For Better Or For Worse" site, and their process for creating each day's strip. Interesting reading.

Crap Number 2

Remember that part about "the second one will be better"?

Well, not so much.

Is this about me?

The First Masterpiece

My first painting! I call it "Crap No. 1". Don't get me wrong, I don't think it's hideous. I think it's my first one. The second one will be better. And the third one, and the fourth one. Even though I call this "Crap No. 1," I'm still proud of it."

Braedon Gordon Earl Holt

Steve and Rachel are the proud parents of Braedon Gordon Earl Holt; born 9/24/06.

Welcome to the family!

Dude, WTF?

I was leaving Kerrville today, and was following a slow moving Hummer through the construction zone, when they turned into Dollar General.

Why would someone who can afford a Hummer and and the gas to put in a Hummer be doing at a dollar store?

Five Years Ago Today

Tuesday September 11, 2001

At about 10 am, the flight attendants began picking up our
drinks only a few minutes after giving them to us. The flight had been routine
until the co-pilot came on and announced that because of something bad happening
"back east," our flight would be diverted to Birmingham, Alabama.

Birmingham?

I pulled out a set of jet flight maps and started looking
at where Birmingham was in relationship to home. (In retrospect, that may
not have been the smartest move I could have made. The gentleman sitting next
to me probably reported a fat man with a beard checking maps in-flight.)

The passengers spent the next half hour or so sitting straight
up, wondering what the hell had happened back east. Until we got to the gate,
we were pretty much in the dark. One of the flight attendants boarded the
plane and told us what happened. She told us to deplane, that we would not
be leaving today.

On the way to baggage claim, a security guard was waving
people off the concourse and into the terminal like a traffic cop. A guy walking
beside me veered into a bar that had a TV on. I started to follow, but she
waved me on, "Let's go! Everyone into the terminal!" As I passed the bar,
I could see several dozen people crowded around a TV mounted on the wall,
transfixed by the flickering images.

It was like a campfire. This one glowing box, transfixed
everyone in the bar, shining light onto their faces, and the shadows on their
backs blending into one wide, dark mass.

I turned on my cell phone, and was surprised to find a voice
mail from the office wondering where I was and if I was okay. I tried to call
and see what the heck was going on, but all I could get was a message that
said the Sprint network is busy and that I should try again later.

I got both my bags off the carousel, sat down and tried to
figure out what I needed to do. I managed to call Donn and got his answering
machine and told him where I was. (Until Friday, I was never able to get through
to Donn again.) I called home and talked to Dad. I tried calling Steve's cell
phone, but the line was busy. I called Rodney and Jeanne. I called the office.
I called Mom at work. I called everyone I could think of. Everyone said, "Just
hang tight." So I went off to see the folks at Southwest Airlines.

The gal behind the Southwest counter looked frazzled. All
she could say is, "I don't know," when I asked what the odds were I would
be leaving the next day. She gave me a voucher for a Best Western Suites,
and told me that the pick-up point was across from the baggage claim.

Great!

Baggage claim was at the far end of the terminal from the
Southwest counter. I had navigated through a throng of addled and confused
passengers, and a very visible, and very nervous, police presence to get to
here. That included toting the photon torpedo case full of golf clubs up the
escalator.

So, back down the escalator to wait for the van to the motel.
Meanwhile I passed the rental car folks. They looked like a grocery store
at 5 pm on the day before Thanksgiving, and, as a sure sign of the coming
Apocalypse, everyone had a cell phone in their ear.

I found the van that took me to the Best Western hotel. A
harried, blonde haired guy with authentic Southern accent drove the 15 of
us dazed travelers to the hotel. Shortly after we got onto the Interstate,
my cell phone rang. Gary's voice said, "Oh, man! I am glad your home!"

"No, I'm in Birmingham."

"That sucks."

"Amen, cousin."

After we chatted a moment, we pulled into the hotel. Hotel?
This place looked like an apartment complex. I was seventh or so in line,
and they checked me in. The clerk pulled out a map, and said, "Walk out the
front door, go left, walk to the top of the hill and turn right. You're on
the third floor. Next!"

I gestured dramatically to the photon torpedo tube, and my
waistline, hoping to convince the guy that the cost of my imminent coronary
was worth, at least, a second floor room. No dice. He was already telling
a couple of ladies from Houston (we had chatted on the van) they were on the
second floor.

"Bar?" I whispered to a frantically rushing hotel employee
who was headed for the front desk. Our driver had already waved goodbye and
said, "I'm going back to the airport!"

The young lady stopped in midstride. Apparently concerned
with my torpedo tup to waistline display earlier, she asked, "Sir?"

"Where's the bar?"

She brightened quickly, stood straight up and pointed. "Over
there, sir!"

It was a four foot bar you would find in someone's basement,
complete with two beer taps and three bottles of booze on a small cabinet
with a sink behind it.

"It opens at 6 pm, sir!" She said, and then turned and went
behind the front desk to help check everyone in. It was 11 am. At this point,
liquor was not an option.

By the time I lugged everything to the top of the hill and
up three flights of stairs, everything I was wearing was damp with sweat,
and I sounded like Darth Vader. ("*huff* Luke. *huff* I am your father. *huff*")
I opened the door to my room and found an apartment only slightly smaller
than my last apartment in Austin. I left the photon torpedo tube by the door,
flopped onto the couch and watched TV, huffing and sweating.

I tried calling Steve again, but his phone was busy. I called
Ann Turner and talked to her. I called Mary Jo and talked to her. I called
everyone whose number was on my cell phone.

Here I am, fifteen hundred freakin' miles from home. I am
calling people I haven't talked to in a while, just to hear a familiar voice.
Just to be reassured that I am not alone. Just to know, that if the end of
the world were to come, everyone would know where I was.

I kept trying Steve's cell phone, and got no answer. Then
I remembered that I had programmed his new home number. So I called. Steve
told me that they had evacuated downtown Baltimore near their World Trade
Center. Then Steve paused and said, "They're on the fucking ground, man. The
towers. They're on the fucking ground."

You want a title for this piece? That sounds like a good
one to me.

I paced the hotel/apartment, calling people, using my minutes.
(Travel lesson #1: Get a cell phone with free nationwide long distance. Take
it with you everywhere you go, and don't forget to take a desktop charger
and a car charger.) Then I got thirsty.

I mentioned that I had to walk uphill to my room. I should
also mention that the hotel was about ? of the way up a big hill. Just at
the bottom was little convenience store. God blessed me that day, my friends.
He did not strand me in a dry county. I walked to the bottom of the hill,
and perused the beer selection.

There were a couple of considerations. It was about noon.
I had about $40 bucks left. And the hotel's restaurant opened about the same
time as the bar. All I had had to eat since I woke up at Steve's apartment
was a couple of bags of Southwest Airlines peanuts. I bought a 12-pack of
Coors and bag of chips. Then I walked back uphill to the hotel. Across the
street was a moderately sized strip mall, with a Wal-Mart.

Now a quote from Bill Bryson:

"? With a pack you walk at a tilt, hunched and pressed forward,
eyes to the ground. You trudge; it is all you can do. Without, you are liberated.
You walk erect. ? You amble. Or at least you do for four blocks. Then you
come to a mad junction at Burger King and discover that the new six-lane road
to Kmart is long, straight, very busy, and entirely without facilities for
pedestrians-no sidewalks, no pedestrian crossings, no central refuges, no
buttons to push for a walk signal at lively intersections."

Sound familiar? Urban sprawl at work. In another book, The
Lost Continent, he describes trying to walk across the driveways of several
fast food restaurants without the benefit of sidewalks. Think about your local
Wal-Mart. How pedestrian friendly is it? See what I mean? I walked uphill,
in the roadside grass almost waist high, until I got back to the office of
the hotel. If you are familiar with apartment complexes, it was kind of like
the complex office.

Back in the room, after another hour or so of Darth Vader
impressions (well, it was a STEEP hill!), I sat down and started drinking
my beer, eating chips and watching the talking heads theorize about Osama
Bin Laden. Finally I found HBO.

I watched two movies. I still can't remember which movies
I watched. My eyes glazed over as I thought about where I was, what I needed
to do. But at least I didn't have to watch the towers fall again.

Finally, I took a shower. Hey! I'd been up and down that
freakin' hill six times. I could not stop sweating. I put on my emergency,
last ditch, set of clothes. (Travel tip#2: Always take one extra set of clothes.
Especially underwear!)

I watched the news a bit more, and decided I was hungry.
I had been told that the restaurant opened at 6 pm. It was a bit after 8,
so I headed downhill to the restaurant.

Six people sat in chairs infront of the bar watching the
news. I went into the restaurant, and found that it was a dining room with
a buffet table at one end. I checked out everything and realized I was too
late. I went back to my room, swearing.

I decided to go to the strip mall to get some fast food.
What strip mall genius only puts one fast food place in a strip mall? All
I could find was a Subway. So I bought a big sandwich (from a clerk who told
me that in Oklahoma gas was $10 a gallon. True, as it turned out, but I poo=pooed
him in my mind.), and headed back to my room. I watched the last bit of "The
Xmen" as I ate my sandwich and went to bed.

For those of you keeping score, yes, I did drink all the
beer.

Oh, Crap! I want another hobby!

On our way back from South Carolina, we stopped in Bryan to visit Dad's Aunt Mallie. It was a nice visit, and for the first time I realized that Mallie was only 10 years older than Dad. Anyway, as we were leaving, Mallie gave us a painting she had done a few years earlier.

A couple of years ago, Mom's Aunt Virginia passed away and Mom brought home a painting she had done. Now I want to learn to paint. Damn!

I have always been a fan of Bob Ross. A decade ago, he was a fixture on the local PBS station, right before the cooking shows. We'd always watch him start with a blank canvas and in 30 minutes have a completed painting. Now that's my kind of painting. Should fit in with my attention deficent problem.

So, I'm going to teach myself to paint. Just what I need. Another hobby.

Radio installation blues

I bought a new radio for my van. The way my finances are going, it could be another year, at least, before I can afford to think about a car. So, I need to replace the old one that doesn't work.

Back in the late 80s, I used to install radios at the drop of a hat. And equalizers. And speakers.

Then I stopped buying radios.

For the last three days I have been working on the preperatory steps. One night I assembled the adapter for my van. One night, I connected the wiring adapter. Tonight, I removed the old radio, and an old add-on thing that hasn't worked in a while. While trying to remove it, I decided to cut the wires. I cut all three wires at the same time and made what Adam Savage of the MythBusters calls the Magic Blue Smoke. However, whenever you make the Magic Blue Smoke, something electronic stops working. Oops.

Well, the radio works, but IT DOESN'T FIT!

Time to walk away. I'll mess with again in the morning.

Argh!

Meadow Farms Golf Course

I think I mentioned I played golf with Steve and John (Staci's husband) last Tuesday. Meadow's Farms is, by far, my favorite course. Unfornately, it is about 1500 miles from my house.

Here's a pretty a picture of their new clubhouse, with John in the foreground.

Four Generations

With me sitting in for Rodney, here's a photo of four generations of Holts.

Blue Ridge Parkway

Rodney just got home from visiting Sean, Joanne and Cael. So here are three generations of Holts. (I swear, Rodney looks more like Stan Laurel everyday.)

Make Money off your Blog - PayPer Post

As much as I like to simply post things the family would be interested in on this blog, I would like to make a little money for writing it. PayPerPost, http://www.payperpost.com, offers bloggers a chance to earn a little cash while blogging. All you have to do is write a post on a particular topic, and they will pay you. I couldn't resist so I signed up, and gave it a try.

Time to start packing

The itinarary is set. Our route is set. We will travel to Virginia and South Carolina next weekend. We're taking the car, flying is just too darned expensive.

We'll leave here at 5 or 6 am on June 15th and drive to Tuscaloosa, Alabama and spend the night. Then we drive, via the Blue Ridge Parkway to Fredericksburg, Virginia and mooch off of Donn and Ann for a couple of days. I'm going to try to sneak away with Steve to play some golf.

Then we'll drive down I-95 to Beaufort, South Carolina and spend a couple of nights with Sean, Joanne and Cael. I hope to sneak away and play some golf with Sean. He says there's a nice course by the ocean.

Our trip home will start on Sunday, and we'll spend the night in Covington, Louisiana, where I hope we'll arrive in time for dinner at the Abita Brewpub in Abita Springs. We should get home Monday evening, after a lunch stop in Bryan to visit Aunt Mallie.

I'm glad were taking the trip, but dad has already told me he wasn't going to drive. So that means I'll get to drive. Whee!

Gearing up

We're gonna visit Donn in Virginia and Sean in South Carolina in a couple of weeks. Dad has already announced that he's not going to drive, so Mom and I get to do it all. And, I have already decided I will do as much as I can. But there have to be a few purchases first.

The first purchase was a Sirius satellite radio. If I'm gonna be cooped up in the car with 'em that long, I get my own radio! I've already picked out the classic rock stations I like. I have also marked the comedy channels. Dad, who had informed me he was taking his CD player and, apparently, his weight in CDs, even said, as I installed the antenna in the van and tested the radio, he would like to be able to hear the radio.

The second purchase has to be new fronts, as Jimmy Davis (my RJR coworker) used to say. I need new glasses. The ones I have are almost 20 years old. While the distance viewing is okay, the up close vision has gone. That's what pisses me off the most. I love to read, and now I have to hold books two feet from my eyes.

I hate getting old.

I'm also trying to think about what I'll need for the trip. Sometimes, I think like Batman going into town: "I'll need the fingerprint kit, the duster, and the night vision goggles." Other times, I think like Indiana Jones: "I got the whip, I got the gun, I got a bag to put sand in. . ."

So, i'm reviewing the One Bag website, trying to pare down my bag to the minimum. I'll be working on that for the next week or so.

Latest Chasing the Sun drawing

After a months long disruption, I have started working on Chasing the Sun again. Not that anyone cares, but I have drawn over 250 pages! I still have that many to go, however, so don't expect to see the ending anytime soon.

Anyway, this drawing is page 11 of chapter 11, or page 251. This scene was one of the first scenes that I wrote for the story. Lydia has learned that Ray has had sex with a couple of girls. She has a crush on him, and is trying to seduce him.

You might want to read the story. If you want. I don't want to push.

Massacre

Normally, I'm pretty laid back. I don't like to kill insects unless they're bothering me. If there's a spider web in a spot I don't normally travel through, I leave it alone. A spider has to eat, too, y'know.

Sunday afternoon, I was getting a beer from the cooler on the back porch. I was whistlin', having a great time. I get even with the cooler when I feel a stabbing pain on the back of my neck. I hastily retreat to a safe distance and look around A pair of yellow jackets had started a nest right in front of my beer cooler.

Right in front of my beer cooler!

Had they been down at the end of the house, I wouldn't have bothered them. But no living thing comes between me and my beer cooler! I go back in the house to look for spray. We had moved all the spray out to the storage room at the back of the house. Right under the wasp nest. I did find a can of roach spray. Since I needed a beer, it would have to do.

Back outside, I peeked around the corner and spotted my prey. I raised the can, and started spraying. A fine mist covered the nest and after a couple of seconds, the wasps took off. I knocked the nest down and squished it. After retrieving my beer, I went back inside to put ice on the sting.

Sorry, wasps. But you were in the way.

Memorial Day Report

Dad and I played some golf with one of our friends, Larry, yesterday. Let me tell you, it was hot! Larry played 9 holes, Dad and I tried for 18, but on the 11th hole we got behind a fivesome and I started feeling queasy. So while they putted out, We stopped at a pisser. I splashed water on my face, but that didn't help. We spotted a sixsome in front of the fivesome and said "Fuck it."

Out of the course, the air was still, and heat just oozed out of the ground. When we crossed Main street, we noticed a nice breeze pushing the trees around. And when we got home, it was nice a cool in the front yard. We should have played there.

Marla had stopped by on her way back to Abilene, so we had a nice visit. Other than that, it was a quiet Memorial Day.

Another Holt in the family!

Steve sent a picture of his bouncing baby boy, but neglected to provide a name. The boy is due in October, and, of course, everyone is excited for them. I am eage rto see if big, bad, bruiser Steve (We all know he's a big softie, but he will kick your ass!) will be a strict Daddy or a or forgiving Daddy.

Mom, Dad, and I are planning a trip to the East Coast to visit Steve's family, Dad's brother Donn (who live in Fredericksburg, VA); and Sean, Joanne and Cael in Beaufort, SC. I'm looking forward to it. I like driving trips, and I enjoy visiting the VA Holts.

We clean up pretty good

Mom took this photo at Sue's funeral. i can't help but noticing that Rodney and i look kinda like Laurel & Hardy. Ann and Jeanne are just along for the ride.

We only see each other at funerals

Aunt Sue finally gave up, and passed away on Saturday. The funeral is on Tuesday. Mom asked that we all go up to Abilene on Monday for the visitation. So, as soon as I get a hair cut on Monday morning, we're off to the funeral home to sit there until they close.

PICTURES!

The first in what we hope is a series: Cael's first photos!

It's a Boy!

Cael Thomas Holt was born in Beaufort, South Carolina, on Sunday, April 23. Mom and baby are doing fine. Sean has promised, and I mean promised, that pictures are on the way. He sent them to his mom, who will be sending them to us, as soon as she gets our email addresses.

We'll see.

The Frederickofenoke swamp

We had 3 inches of rain the other day. It all fell in about an hour. So I rushed home from work to make sure there wasn't water in the house, and when I went into the back yard, I found that the dry creek bed in our back yard was no longer dry.

I Miss MST3K

Since there was absolutely nothing on TV today, I spent the day watching Mystery Science Theater 3000 tapes. I miss, Joel, Mike, Tom Servo, Crow T. Robot, Gypsy, Pearl, Dr. Forrester, TV's Frank, Brain Guy, Monkey Guy, and even Larry.

The Waiting

The day that everyone in our family has been avoiding talking about is almost here. My mom's sister Sue is in the hospital and the prospects are grim. I haven't really written about it here, because she often visited the site. I'm working on a much longer piece, but I definitely don't want to post it until after. . . after . . . well, you know.

Sunday at the Lake

We had to take some things to Rodney and Jeanne on Sunday, so Rodney cooked Jambalaya. I'm not exactly sure how the furniture for food trade was negotiated, but it worked for me. After lunch we went down to the lake to look around. The ducks just knew we had food. And Nickel, Rodney and Jeanne's dog, just knew the ducks were his food, but he was to afraid of the water to swim out after them.

By popular request. Okay there was only one request.

One person requested it!

Okay, okay. It wasn't a request. It was a wistful comment written in sympathy for a previous post. but never let it be said I don respond to wistful comments!

Today I present the newest addition to the JeffreyHolt.com store:

To quote Emeril: "Go buy yourself a couple hundred copies!"

Dickheads abound

One of the downsides of joining traffic exchanges is that every once in a while, you get an asshole that wants everyone to think his penis is larger than it really is. Since they don't have the intellect to argue, they name call. Now I don't have a problem with someone who doesn't like what I say, and explains why. I'll happily post contrary opinions in the comments. But name calling? Pardon my french, but, Fuck that! Hello, comment moderation! This way, these fucktards can't promote their blog just by posting.

By the way, commenter, I agree that the use of "rant" in a blog title is trite, and will be taking steps to correct that. Thanks for that, at least.

The moon has a halo

The other night, I was in the backyard and happened to look up. The moon was behind some thin clouds and had a nice halo around it. I limped/waddled back into the house and grabbed my camera. So you have to look at it.

News from Sean

We heard from Sean yesterday. Like all of us, he's swamped at work, and he's taking college classes. So he's busy from 6 am to 9 pm. We finally persuaded him to get Joann a phone, so we could at least touch base with her once in a while. Speaking of Joanne, the baby is due May 1, and will be named Cael Thomas. As soon as Joanne has recovered from the birth, they will bring the baby down for a visit.

I didn't get the job at the hospital. So I guess the plan is to ask my boss for a letter of recommendation that I can attach to all my resumes. Then she'll ask, "Why are looking?" and I can say "INSURANCE!" Maybe I'll get insurance that way.

Fingers still crossed!

I haven't heard from the folks at the hospital. I might hear something on Monday.

Wish me luck

I have a job interview today. At 10 am I have to be at the hospital. I applied for a job at the admissions desk. It will pay about $3/hour less than I make at my current job but having the insurance will be worth it. I might even be able to afford to visit a doctor once in a while.

Wish me luck!

Sam Walton's RV Center

I took this photo at 7:30 am on Wednesday at our local Wallyworld. A string of RVs lined the front of the Wal-Mart parking lot from one end to the other. I could only get these few in the frame.

There is an RV park in the next block. But Wal-Mart doesn't charge them.

We heard from Sean, finally. Seems he's trying to get as many classes in as possible to get his degree before the baby is born. We made him promise to get Joanne a phone so we can, at least, talk to her.

I finally broke down and bought golf shoes. Since that went so well, I bought a pair of sneakers because I'm tired of my sandals. The right shoes is a bit tight, but I'm glad I bought them. Or, I will be once they're broken in. I haven't had a really comfortable pair of shoes in a while.

Other than that, things are creaking along here. No one, especially me, has been in the hospital. And no one is sick.

Daddy needed a New pair of Shoes

On Monday, I drove to San Antonio to get a pair of golf shoes. Tired of everyone asking why I wasn't wearing a pair when I broke my leg, I decided to use my IRS refund. I went to Edwin Watts Golf on I-10, just off Wurzbach. A chipper woman named Michelle helped me pick out a pair of shoes. Unfortunately, that particular store didn't have the correct size.

I paid for the shoes, and Michelle said she would go to the other store and pick up a pair and ship them to me, at no additional charge, of course. I got them yesterday. I should have tried them on at the other store. Just a little tight, I expect that once broken in, they'll be okay. Now, when I play golf, I won't snap an akle bone. Instead I'll turn and cause a twisting break up my entire leg!

Super Bowl Monday!

Not being a big sports fan, Super Bowl Sunday often leaves me cold and unimpressed. however, there is a movement to make Super Bowl Monday a paid holiday.

Sign me up!

I know, I know! I need a girlfriend!

I drew this hottie and scanned it into my computer. I colored it in Photoshop.

(As the artist, I have to wonder how this chick broke her hip. Her right leg is turned too far to the right for the bones to be intact! I suck at anatomy.)

I'll try to draw something less sexist next time.

Playing around with Linux

Today, I downloaded Ubuntu 5.10 live demonstration ISO and burned it to a disk. When I rebooted my computer, I was using Linux! In fact, I'm using Linux to make this post. Cool!

To be honest, it looks a lot like Windows. It acts a lot like Windows. But it sure is cheaper than Windows! Ubuntu is completely free, and comes with Firefox, Thunderbird, and Open Office. There are all sorts of applications that make Ubuntu a viable alternative to Windows.

While I'm not quite ready to switch, I am going to explore the world of Linux. However, so far, I'm impressed. Now all I need is a dedicated Linux box. . .

Brandon and GF

On 1/21, Brandon competed in a weightlifting competition in Llano. (It's not pronounced "Yeah-no" despite how it's spelled.) Dad went to watch. He took my camera. Yeah, I could post a picture of Brandon doing a successful squat, or bench press. But where's the fun in that?

That's his girlfriend. I'm still waiting on a name. . .

I have a crush

That little sentence has got all the single women in American in fear right now. I can hear them now: "Eeew!"

Relax. It's more like another reason to watch my favorite show, Mythbusters.

Kari Byron is an artist and mechanic. That is impressive!

Hotness is, of course, a bonus.

Another kitchen gadget

Apparently, the greatest problem facing mankind these days isn't fundamentalism, as we had all thought, but instead is cooking spaghetti.

A couple of years ago there was the pasta pot. A pot with a perforated lid, it allowed the cook to dump the water without losing the pasta. Now, it's the Pasta Express, a plastic cylinder that you put the spaghetti and boiling water. Let the thing sit on your counter until the pasta is cooked, then pour the water our the perforations on the top.

Hasn't anyone ever heard of a colander?

Kilt wearing boy gets apology

Last November 5, a young man of Scottish descent was barred from entering a Kansas City school dance because he was wearing a kilt. (No word if he was a real Scot - look left.) Scottish groups learned about it, and got outraged! Mounting a letter writing campaign that would make American Family Association get a woody, they got the school district to write an apology letter.

Rejoice, fellow kilt wearers! Justice has been served!

It's a boy!

Sean called today to tell us that Joanne was going to have a boy. He's due in June. Naturally, Sean is scheduled to deploy to Japan in July. He's understandably not thrilled with that.

While he was here at Christmas, he said that when his enlistment is up, he will enlist in the Army and try to get back to Texas. I warned him that if he joined the Army, he'd probably wind up at Fort Hood. And everyone at Fort Hood winds up in Iraq. I told him he would be better off in the Marines. At least they send him to Japan.

I told the boss that he would be heading back to Japan. She said I should go visit him.

Yeah.

Lessee: credit card minimums are doubling, thanks to our Congresscritters, so we can pay off our debts faster. Did they limit what credit card companies could charge in interest? Oh, no! That might cost a business some $$$. Since the citizens aren't businesses, they can lose the $$$.

Gas prices increase at every change in the wind. If a holiday is approaching, Exxon posts a billion in profits.

With the increase in gas prices, groceries have gone up.

In August, I broke my leg. At the end of the year, my bill was almost $20,000. And guess who wants their money!

Guess what didn't go up.

That's right. My fucking paycheck. Every year we get a $0.25 raise. (I know. You're salivating at all that extra cash.) I've been with the company for 10 years. That means I make $2.50 more per hour than I did when I started. Whoopie!

Tell you what, boss. You pay for the ticket, eh?

Bitter? Me?

A New Story!

Last night, I posted a new story to the JeffreyHolt.com library. It's called "The Big Dance," and it's supposed to be funny. Give it a read, and let me know what you think.

A New piece of Art

The other morning, as I was going to work, the rising sun was hitting the top of this tree around the corner from the house. It looked like the tree was on fire! I took a picture. Then I used Photoshop to make it look like a painting.

Mom and Dad's excellent adventure

Mom and Dad went to Fort Sam Houston yesterday to collect a military id for Mom. It was her special Birthday present for turning 65. Now, every 9 years, she'll have to go back and renew her ID. Dad's is permanent.

The last time Dad went to Fort Sam, Gary took him. Mainly because Gary is more familiar with the base. While they waited for Dad's ID, a clerk kept shouting, "Sergaent Holt? Sergeant Holt?" Gary finally tapped Dad's arm and said, "I think they're calling you." Dad jumped and said, "No one's called me that in 25 years."

New Addition to the Store

Shameless attention whore that I am, I have added this shirt to the JeffreyHolt.com store. Everyone needs at least two!

Christmas is over - Finally!

Santa brought me a head cold, or something for Christmas. I went to Kerrville to buy presents for mom and dad on Friday, and after I had exhausted all possibilities at Hastings, I was walking back to my car when the Salvation Army guy by the door asked, "Are you okay?"

I returned home, stopped at Wal-mart for Gift cards for the folks and as much Nyquil as I could get into the van. I had promised Sean supper on Friday, so at 2 pm, I got out of bed and did what I had to do. I got it in the oven, and laid down while it baked. Took it out, and cooled it, while I slept. During that time, Sean and Joanne came in. Sean saw me asleep so they talked quietly in the living room. About 5 pm, I got up, and visited a while. Mom came home and we ate. Sean and Joanne left at 7 pm. I went back to bed.

It was a rough night, and I was up and down all night, just miserable! Finally, at 5 pm, I got up and had something to eat. Rodney and Jeanne and the kids had arrived. My fever had broken, and I felt better. But I was back in bed at 8pm.

Christmas was better, and I was up all day, but still had a slight fever. Sean and Joanne left about 4 pm, so they could get ready to head back to South Carolina this morning.

Anyway, here's a picture of Sean and the Missus.

Oh, yeah. And Rodney.

Finally found my Hawaii Film

When I came home from Japan, my brother met me in Hawaii. We spent a couple of days there seeing the sights. When it came time to scan my photos into an album, I noticed that I couldn't find my Hawaii pics.

Well, lo and behold, an undeveloped roll of film was discovered in my old desk when we emptied out the storage unit. Unfortunately, there was only one photo of Hawaii on it.

I dedicate this post to Uncle Donn:

I must have taken the long way home:

Sean and the Missus

Sean got into town on Thursday of last week. They have to leave on the 26th. He brought Joann along, of course. Like he was gonna leave her at home: "Gonna see the family now. Bye, honey!"

On Sunday they came over for lunch, and Rodney and Jeanne came down as well. This might be a record. Seeing them twice in a month!

Grandmother's meds have calmed her down, and she seems to be adjusting to her new surroundings. Then again, her surroundings are new every day.

New Logo?

Email me at jdaleholt at iwon dot com, and let me know what you think.

You can probably hear the cursing

Grandmother was taken to the nursing home on Monday. It was not, I hear, a pleasant time. She threatened to hit the folks with her stick. She demanded to talk to Mom, but the doctor had recommended she just stay away for a couple of days.

You know, it seems mean to do that to her, but she had to go. We couldn't watch all the time. Now, at least, there's someone around her all the time.

Mom was going to visit her today. I wonder how that turned out.

The Plan is in Motion

If you're interested, Grandmother is in the hospital. After an argument about bathing, Mom took Grandmother to the doctor. She had been coughing a lot, and the doctor diagnosed her with pneumonia. She also has congestive heart failure. So the doctor put her in the hospital. I asked mother if she would still have a job after leaving her mother there, and she said, "The nurses may want to fire me."

Right now, the plan is to keep her there for three days, then move her to a nursing home. Dad said he wouldn't fight going to a nursing home. "You say that now," I answered. I did ask him to write it down and have it notarized, though.

Whatever Sean wants. . . . . .

I title this picture, "Whatever Sean Wants, Sean Gets."

Sean told his Grandmother that it just isn't Christmas without lights. So his Grandmother bought all new lights.

The other day, his Grandmother made pea salad. This pea salad is wonderful! It has peas, crumbled bacon, shredded cheese, diced boiled eggs and mayonnaise. The only thing that makes it better is a splash of Tabasco™! When I saw it on the table, I said, "I didn't know Sean was coming over for dinner!"

"He's not," she said.

"But we're having pea salad. . ." I said.

At any rate, I can't wait to see the dinner table at Christmas: Pea salad, banana pudding, and the sweet potatoes with those marshmallows on top.

Sean also told his Grandmother that Grandpa can't wear his grey shorts on Christmas Day. Apparently, it will freak out the missus. Dad has promised to wear a suit.

Me? I'm washing all my grey shorts!

Griping

Living with Grandmother is an experience, let me tell you. She always wants something to do, or to go to the bathroom, or to have something to eat, or to pick up every pen in the house. Yesterday, when Mom got home, Grandmother was in a panic. She didn't know where she was, whose house she was in, and was afraid she was going to be arrested to being in someone's house. Mom told her that it was our house, and Grandmother referred to her as her friend. When mom said she was Grandmother's daughter, she was surprised. However, this morning, she called me by name. Wandered into the living room, then came back into my room and said, "I thought I was all alone here.

Alzheimer's is so much fun.

Well, the leg is getting better. I'm able to walk without the crutches, wearing the boot, of course. The problem is that I walk like a bad John Wayne impersonator: leaning forward, elbows bent, fists clenched, and like I'm walking downhill.

It still swells up while I'm at work. I should keep it elevated, but if I did that the boss might think I'm lazy. Well, actually, she does, but sitting around with my leg on the desk might just cement the impression that I'm lazy. Since I don't want to leave her with that impression, I don't put the foot up at work. When I get home, it looks like an eggplant with Vienna sausages on one end.

Good night! I'm here all week!

The entellus Dillemma

Today I updated the "Collected Writings" page. I finally found the Star Trek fanzine that published "The Entellus Dilemma." I scanned the pages, and spent two days editing it to make it readable. I would say, "Enjoy," but it's really bad. That story basically violated every Star Trek writing rule, and didn't use the supporting characters very well.

A Lesson in Medical Terminology

I arrived at the hospital at 7:30 am, as instructed, without anything to eat or drink since before midnight. I registered at the front desk, then hobbled back, down a 75 yard long hallway, to Outpatient Surgery. After six weeks on crutches, I still can't catch my breath when I walk long distances. I wondered aloud why they force you to use a wheelchair when you leave, but don't bother when you arrive.

When I got to outpatient surgery, the nurse told me to change into the hospital robe, and said she'd be right back. Twenty minutes later, she came in and took my medical history. Then she compared it to the rather lengthy form I filled out the night before to make sure I hadn't changed any of my answers. She gathered up the forms and said she'd be right back.

Thirty minutes later, I opened an old copy of Reader's Digest and had only read about six pages when the nurse came in and tried to start an IV. After much cursing and slapping of my veins, she called in reinforcements. They finally managed to get the IV in at 8:45 am. (Apparently, my veins are, like me, deep.)

At 9 am, they told me that they were ready for me upstairs, and asked if I needed to go to the bathroom. I said no. My surgery was scheduled for 9:30, after all and was supposed to take only about 30 minutes. So down the hallway we went to pre-op. The orderly who pushed my gurney and me into pre-op was named Jeffrey, too. But when people greeted us in the halls with, "Hi, Jeff!" I wondered how so many of these people knew my name. And this was before the drugs.

In pre-op, a nurse who looked like my mom's youngest sister, Delores, greeted me in a voice that was a dead ringer for my aunt's. "Hi, Jeff! How are you today?"

For a couple of minutes, I wondered how Delores got here from Hobbs, New Mexico, and why she would come just to see me when the screws were taken out. Then I realized she wouldn't come just for that, and I remembered that Jeffrey was the orderly.

As soon as I was in the pre-op area, a nurse came along to get my medical history, and compared it with the two previous forms just in case I'd developed something in the elevator. Then, she left me alone, while she chatted with the two other nurses on duty.

The nurse who looked like my aunt was from Amarillo, and had that West Texas twang my aunt had, so I spent the next hour remembering that she wasn't Delores.

That's right. An hour and a half. Laying there on a gurney with nothing to read. I finally flagged down Delores and said I needed to pee and that I couldn't walk. She brought me the necessary equipment and draining my bladder killed a couple of minutes. Then the first nurse said, "I don't know why they brought you up here so early," as she handed me a magazine. I got to page six, when the OR nurses came to wheel me into surgery.

The anesthesiologist came in, and made sure I hadn't had a surgery since I arrived that morning, while on of the nurses wrote on a dry erase board on the wall "10:27." Then I got my happy juice and was out like a light.

They woke me up at 11:30, and rolled me back into Outpatient Surgery. They let me dress and by 12:30 pm, Jeffrey wheeled me out to the car in a wheel chair. I did ask him where he was when I got there this morning.

So here's the lesson in medical terminology: "right back" and "ready for you" mean "in an hour or so." Plan your next hospital trip accordingly.

Wish Me Luck

This morning I put my unlucky sandals up on eBay. Other people have sold sillier items for more $$, so I figure, "What the heck!" And, since I'm tired of begging you people to donate to me, now you can actually buy something from me! Or, alternatively, you can help me out by spreading the word! Tell everyone you know about the auction, especially those folks that are super generous.

You asked for it. . .

Donn and Ann H., accompanied by Ann T. (henceforth known as Donn and Ann², pronounced, "Donn and Ann Squared"), came for a brief visit on Thursday. For the second time in as many weeks, relatives have stopped by and wanted to take us out to dinner. I was invited but my answer, both times, was "Hell, no!" Normally, I would have jumped at an offer of free food, but after a day at work, hobbling around on the crutches, I'm exhausted and really only want to sit and have a beer or two with the boot off and my foot elevated.

As Donn and Ann² were leaving, Ann H. said she would visit my site to read the humorous account of how I broke my leg. So, I guess I'd better write it.

The Story

After a Mickey D's drive thru breakfast, I met Larry and Jym at the golf course at 8:30 Sunday morning. We walked through the dewy grass to the tee box and waited for a foursome to get on the green before we teed off.

The first hole it a 382 yard Par 4. It's pretty much a straight shot from tee box to green. The fairway is flanked by two 6-7 foot tall swells that run about 50 yards to a depression in front of the green about 10 feet below the green, and an oak tree to the right of the green. My tee shot sliced across the golf cart and into the trees lining the 9th fairway, about 125-150 yards. Larry wound up in a stand of trees on the left of the fairway on top of the tall hill. Jym landed in the middle of the fairway, with a perfect approach to the green.

I found my ball and decided to try a punch shot through the trees and back into the first fairway. Naturally, I flubbed the shot, and dribbled it about twenty yards foreward. Jym's shot landed on the green, and Larry. . .well, let's just say Larry need a machete to get to his ball. My third shot landed at the base of the green, behind, of course, the tree. Larry's third shot blasted from the trees and sailed clear across the green. Fortunately, Larry was in the Navy and had a good supply of descriptive phrases.

My fourth shot almost sailed over the green to land in the rough. Larry and I chipped up onto the green, me lying 6 and Larry lying 5. We both two putted. Jym, though had parred the hole.

The second hole is a 340 par 4. You have to shoot over a creek, across a creek and down to a broad, almost treeless, little plain that seems incredibly far away. Jym dropped his ball
into the fairway 100 yards or so from the green. Larry hooked his shot into the only thick stand of trees on the hole, near a seasonal creek bed. Normally, on this hole, I put my ball to the right of the fairway between two small (about 6' tall) trees. This time, though, I landed in the fairway, 175 yards from the pin! Larry's second shot dropped into another cluster of cedar trees to the left of the hole, perilously close to the seasonal creek full of rocks. As the creek approached the cart path, the banks have been covered with cement, and there is always a small pool of water right beside the bridge that goes to the green. Jym's second shot dropped just short of the green, close enough to put. I lined up my shot, and hit the ball. It arched into the air and started to descend into thepool of water near the bridge! Dammit! Fortunatly, though, the ball landed on the other side of the creek, bounced off the concrete bank and landed on the green 10 yards from the hole! Praise Jebus!

Jym and I waited for Larry to pitch his way to the green from amongst the shrubbery. Jym chipped his third shot onto the green only inches from the cup. Jym parred, and I two-putted for par. Larry wound up with a 5.

Glowing with pride at how well my game was going, we went to the third tee box, where the foursome before us let us play through.

The third hole is a 475 yard par 5 that I have never parred. From the tee both, you shot across a creek and on top of a bluff at least 40 feet high. Oak trees line the bluff, except for a 30-40 yard gap indicating the fairway. My success rate getting onto the fairway is 60-40%, and 9 time out 10, if I clear the bluff, I slice into the oak trees and windup losing my ball anyway. This was one of those 9 times. From the tee box it appeared as if the ball landed behind the oak trees, perhaps on the fairway of the 5th hole. Jym landed in the fairway again, and Larry sliced into a thin stand of trees beside the cart path.

Naturally, I couldn't find my ball once we got on top of the bluff. I walked up a slicht incline onto the 5th fairway and looked, but couldn't see it. I turned and started back down. My left foot slipped in the dew, and my right toe caught in the grass. I fell foreward and heard the sound of a branch breaking, and screamed as I landed on my face and rolled down the little incline.

I thought, "I broke my fucking ankle!"

Short story made far too long, an ambulance came and picked me up and I spent the next two days in the hospital. I never did get a refund for the 16 unplayed holes. Larry and Jym finished the round and each broke 100. The bastards.

Update!

Since everyone is curious about my ankle, here's the update:

The pain is mostly gone, though I do get some twinges every now and again. However, the selling hasn't gone down much. My toes look like Vienna Sausages, and my foot looks like a baloon.

Next Thursday I'm scheduled to have the screws removed. I don't know if I'll be able to walk or not, but with Oktoberfest around the corner, I hope so.

The idiots at The History Channel

I have been off work for about 15 days now, counting Sundays. One of the surest signs that it's time to go back to work, at least for me, is to dream about it. And last night, I did.

I dreamt I had a dozen voicemails. So, Dr. Freud, what do you think?

It's about time to go back to work. the History Channel has stopped their coverage of World War II and have spent the last couple of days exploring the Bible and prophets like Nostradamus. No doubt a reaction to Hurricane Katrina.

OW!!

I am firmly convinced that orthopedic surgeons love inflicting pain.

I had the staples from my surgery removed yesterday, and it fel like the nurse was pulling 20 hairs on either side of my leg. That took a while to disappear. Then they brought out "The Boot." A steel and nylon contraption, the boot is much lighter than the splint. however, in an effort to get my foot to nuetral, or 90 degrees to the leg, they have to keep pushing up on the ball of my foot. If feels like my toe is touching my nose.

On the 22nd, they will remove the two horizontal screws, and I might be able to walk again! on the upside, I'll get one of those "I have an implant" cards for the airport screeners.

i hate this i hate this i hate this i hate this i hate this i hate this i hate this i hate this

So last night, at midnight or so, I woke up and realized that I needed to pee. I turned on the lamp beside my bed, scrambled erect with the aid of the crutches, and headed for the bathroom. I appoached the step up into the dining room/Grnadmother's room. I thought I was close enough to try to make it.

The ball of my left foot catches the edges of the step, just under my big toe. My lower body stopped moving. However, my upper body continued to move forward. I fell with a clatter onto the floor hitting my right knee.

"FUCK!" I shouted demurely. "I need some help!" I shouted into the darkness. While Mom and Dad woke up enough to help, I scooted back where I could grab the grab bar next to the door that we installed for Dad last summer. I grabbed hold, and as Mom helped, got back to my feet, or foot, as the case may be. I made my way into the bathroom, my confidence completely shaken. My foot throbbed as I finished my business. As I hopped back to bed, I noticed spots on the floor. my foot was bleeding. I got Mom to bandage it up, all the while I muttered "I hate this. I hate this. I hate this."

This morning, I have a bruise on my knee, a sensitive left toe, and no desire to sit in a recliner any longer.

I hate this.

A premonition?

Have you ever woken up and said to yourself, "something is gonna happen today?"

Me neither.

A week ago at this time I was in the emergency room with a broken ankle. I had been playing golf with a couple of friends. I double bogeyed the first hole, and parred the second hole. On the third hole, while walking down a grassy slope, my shoes slipped, and my right toe caught in the grass. I fell forward and heard a loud SNAP.

So, for the last seven days, I have been sitting on my ass, and going out of my mind. I have been using my vacation time to let my ankle heal. I have enough money in savings to take another week off. After that, I have to start working again.

Shiner 96 unveiling at Oktoberfest

For the last few years, I have volunteered at Oktoberfest in Fredericksburg, Texas as a beer supervisor. (Seems kind of like putting the fox in charge of the chicken coop if you ask me, but the beer's free.) part of the fun of being "on the inside" is learning what beers are going to be on tap.

This year, for the first time anywhere in the nation, the Spoetzel Brewery will unveil Shiner 96, a Märzen beer, traditional at Oktoberfest.

I'm looking forward to this Oktoberfest! Hope to see you there.

The Holt Journeys

(15) Rodney and Jeanne have logged some serious
miles in the last few weeks. They went to New Orleans at the end
of last month, and last week, they went to Chicago to see Shawn
graduate from Navy basic training.

Mom, meanwhile, continues to spend every weekend
in Brownwood taking care of Grandmother. She is planning to make
a change in October. She wants to move Grandmother into our house.
Grandmother will sleep in what is now the dining room. The dining
room will move into the kitchen. Most of the kitchen will move onto
the back porch or the new storage building.

I went to Kerrville once. Dad went out in the back
yard a few times.

On the Ground in N'Awlins

Last week, Rodney and Jeanne went to New Orleans for a little vacation. Since I've let Steve write on this site, it's Rodney's turn. I did some editing. It was one long paragraph. I hope he doesn't mind.

We spent most our time in the french quarter.

Walking.

A lot.

In the humidity. My feet still don't like me.

We ate ate Crescent City Brewhouse (probably the best overall meal, the best shrimp po boy, but a little too expensive to hit more than once), Cafe Du Monde (almost every morning - biegnets YUMMO!!), Cafe Biegnet (great inexpensive full breakfast), Cafe Maspero (Great food, inexpensive no atmosphere), Olde Nawlins Cookery (OK food, relatively inexpensive and on a side street so not busy made this good), Margritaville (The most atmosphere, great food but kinda expensive, can't go here too often. I guess if you don't buy the drinks in the souvenier plastic parrot glass and the souvenier menu, it wouldn't be quite as expensive).

We rode the street car a lot. Most are air conditioned (good for getting out of the humidity) going up Canal Street. The Riverfront and St Charles Srtreetcars are not airconditioned. If you can catch them when they are not super crowded then it's a great way to get around.

We stayed out until 2:00 almost every night walking along Bourbon St. Didn't see any flashers but did see lots of college drunks.

I think we saw and went into every junkstore..I mean tourist trap...I mean souvenier store on Bourbon St. The bad thing is they all sell the same things, at the same price.

We took one of the paddle wheel boats to Chalmet Battlefields Natl Park, made famous by the song, In 1814 we took a little trip... We went to the acquarium, mainly to escape the humidity.

Did I mention the humidity?

It rained about an hour every day just to make sure the humidity level stayed at 100% as the temperature reached 98. We did take an umbrella, only forgot it one day...of course that was the day it rained while we were out.

We took the free ferry to Algiers across the Mississippi from Nawlins, to go to Mardi Gras World. It is where they make floats for Mardi Gras. Harry Connick Jr. is captain of one of the super clubs and his club's float was made and is stored there. It is over 200 feet long and carries over 200 riders. We went to Harrahs one night just to gamble some money away. They replaced coins wih paper tickets, so you don't get to hear the clinking of the coins hitting the tray. We each thought it ruined the fun of the machines. I guess we are not the high roller type we only took $20 to lose and came back with $9.

I'm just glad to be home.

Before we left we bought a vivitar digital camera and a 512 MB card. We were able to take 250 pictures with it, and even a couple of short movies.

I mentioned to Rodney that Sean would have been happy to recommend a cheaper place. When I told Sean that, he replied: "I do know this one place it is a 1/2 star hotel and it is free. It is called My Car, although it is not for everybody. It works for me and barely fits in my price range." I responded: "Let me guess, you save more money by eating at the same place. Eating the doritos in the seat cushions." And his reply: "Hell yeah, I see you have stayed at a similar establishment before."

Good Luck, Discovery

Our New Wal-Mart

The crowd at the church across the street (also known as the most photographed church in town--especially when we're trying to use up a roll of film) was a bit sparse tonight. You see, we got us a brand spankin' new Wal-Mart Super-Center!

This photo was taken before opening day, naturally. I went tonight because I needed some padded envelopes, and they have the best price in town. OMFG! The parking lot was full! There were cars from out of state there! The entire population of Fredericksburg was filling their cart up with Wal-Mart crap. AND THE MAIN STREET WAS STILL FULL!

I wonder where all those folks came from. There's a Super Wal-Mart in Kerrville, and one in Marble Falls. Hell, the ones on the Fredericksburg side of town of both Austin and San Antonio are closer than the one in Marble Falls.

And why was church across the street so empty tonight, you ask?

'Cause every Mexican in town was at the new Wal-Mart!

LORD, I APPOLOGIZE FOR BEIN' A RACIST LIKE THAT, AND BE WITH THE STARVIN' PYGMIES, DOWN THERE IN NEW GUINEA. AMEN!

A quick recap

Lessee, where do I begin?

Dad's on crutches. The doctor thinks the kneecap will heal on its own, so no surgery needed, thank goodness. He's getting around more, mainly because he's tired of sitting on his butt all day. He overdid it the other day. He went out to the patio to order me to turn on the water in the garden. When he got back inside, his knee hurt.

Sean will be getting home at 2 pm on Thursday. He's flying into Austin. We're going to play golf with Rodney and Gary on Saturday, then spend some time at NIOF.

Mom continues trying to get Grandmother to move to a retirement home. Now the pitch is to get into one here so she can visit everyday. Grandmother seems to have taken a shine to the idea and is helping Mom pack up all her "valuables." But she doesn't seem to be taking a shine to actually moving.

Other than that, it's just plain hot!

Darned ol' Year From Hell

On Sunday, Dad was walking out of church when he tripped and fell. By the time he got home, he couldn't walk. We talked him into going to the emergency room where they told him he had fractured his knee cap. So now he's on crutches. The bad thing is, they are a bit too long for him.

Sue and Marla came for a visit on Sunday night. They were on their way back home, and spent the night with us. I had to go to work before they got up so I didn't get to visit too much.

Sean will be coming home for 13 days in about a week. He's looking forward to Night in Old Fredericksburg.

Remembering Dabas

Today I went to Austin with a friend to buy brewing stuff. We had to stop at a PetSmart. He had to buy something. I had to pee. In the bathroom was a chart of dogs from around the world. I managed to find a listing for Catahoula Leopard dogs.

I sure do wish we could've kept Dabas.

It's all I can think about. I keep thinking about laying down in the floor, and seeing Dabas turn and look at me. I swear I could see him smile! And then he would charge me to bite me everywhere.

Here's a picture of what he would have wound up looking like.

(15) I held off as long as I could. I fought the urge for weeks. Then I succumbed. I redid the site. I must confess, I didn't come up with the design. I got it from the fine folks at Entheos. Their link is at the bottom of every page.

Something about their three column layout appealed to me. It would allow me to put ads on one side, and content on the other.

Let me know what you think. Email me at jeffholt at yahoo dot com.

It has been really humid the last few weeks. By the time I walk from the house to the car or the car to the house, my skin is slick with sweat. Since this is Texas, I just have to endure it. But when I was in Japan, there was a great way to cool off.

Whenever I went into a restaurant, after being seated the waitron would bring a small, rolled handclothed that had been moistened and chilled. I would take this cloth and wipe my face and feel instantly refreshed. In the winter, the towels were steamed. After a long walk to a restaurant, the feel of moist heat against chilled skin was almost orgasmic.

On my return to the States, I stopped in Hawaii, where I encountered the towels for the last time.

I think it's high time we demand this service from the restaurants we visit. I know I would return more often to a restaurant that provided them than one that didn't. That would be good customer service.

25th class Reunion

Happy birthday, Rodney!

The Fredericksburg High School Class of 1980 is having its 25 year reunion next weekend. I haven't been to any of the previous reunions. I am usually out of town, mainly in Midland, playing golf with Gary. I may go this year, but I forgot to RSVP by May 20th. Oops.

More about Wal-Mart

(3) I ran across the Wal-Mart Watch site today. As thousands descend on Fayetteville, Arkansas for the annual Wal-Mart shareholders' meeting, they have produced their own report. Here are some quotes from their annual report:

"Year after year, Wal-Mart’s low pay and insufficient employee benefits programs leave hundreds of thousands of Wal-Mart workers to rely on Medicaid, food stamps, and public housing assistance to make ends meet. Call it the 'Wal-Mart Tax.' It costs American taxpayers at least $1.5 billion in federal tax dollars every year, and hundreds of millions more in state and local subsidy costs."

And this one:

Wal-Mart President and CEO H. Lee Scott has earned a reputation as a hardcore cost-cutter who demands that his fellow Wal-Mart executives strive to save fractions of a penny on everything from supplier costs to the cost of toilet paper in store restrooms. But when it comes to his own pay, the Wal-Mart CEO is quite generous. Scott’s $17.5 million in compensation in 2004 was nearly twice the average of $9.6 million for leading CEOs, according to Business Week. Scott raked in about $8,434 per hour, which is $8,424 more per hour than the official Wal- Mart figure for its average worker of $9.68.

I've been watching Wal-Mart for a while and none of this is any news to me. Check out their site. It's an eye-opening read.