A Day in the Life of...

Spooktacular!

2010-10-31T22:36:00.001-05:00

Welcome, Little Mr. Andrew

2010-07-27T21:30:00.000-05:00

So I head to MF this last weekend to meet my adorable new little nephew, Andrew, born July 1. Only three weeks old and already so much auburn coloring on this child that even his eyelashes are red!

Grandma's lap is very comfortable.

All these kisses from big sister Gracie. It's a hard life.

Spoiled already.
Big sister Charity and Grandma love to hold me.

Then the twins came over and things got really fun.

Trio of Cutie Pies.
Oh Anna, Felicia and Keren are in the picture, too.

How cute is Hannah?!?!

I think Uncle Joel has done this before.

Daddy's boy.

Free slobber kisses. Anyone?

Sausage Boy

2010-07-12T22:26:00.002-05:00

Happy 17th Birthday, Ginger!

2010-04-11T20:37:00.002-05:00

Welcome to the World Little Ones

2010-01-05T18:19:00.005-06:00

My Great Niece and Nephew

Hannah Marie and William Clay

Both 5 lb. 4 oz.

Both 17 3/4 in. long

Born on this day

at 1:30 p.m. and 1:34 p.m., respectively

Any Day Now?

2009-12-23T22:33:00.002-06:00

Last But Certainly Not Least

2009-12-14T21:20:00.001-06:00

In Love

Blushing Bride

Mother-Daughter Time

The Bridesmen

The Bridesmen's Work is Never Done!

Anxious Groom

He did it without lots of tears! Whoo hoo, Bryan!

Very Sweet Up There with All Her Brothers!

The Vows

The Rings

Mr. & Mrs.

God Only Know Just How Much I Love You! (Check out the diligent bridesman, Taylor, doing the train flip in the background.)

Our Little Girl

Grandma's Turn

Grandma's Baby Boy, as She Likes to Call Him

All Smiles

The Grands

The Williams Clan

Welcome to the Family

Proud Parents

Old Times

One Down and Three to Go

The Williams Girls (minus one)

Happy Times

The Groom Must Be a Secret Cookie Monster

Luckily No One Got Hurt

The Cat That Climbed the Christmas Tree

2009-11-29T18:56:00.044-06:00

Every year Christmas brings a sense of wonder, anticipation and excitement to children of all ages and species. There is nothing like kitten curiosity when they discover Christmas decorations for the first time. Charley was kind enough last night to allow me to chronicle her experiences below.

Let me just check this out a little bit!

I just can't help myself!

Yes, the tree branches can hold more than five pounds of feline.
Was there any doubt?

Oops...what have I gotten myself into?!?!

Yum!

Scaling to new heights! This would be Mount Santa Claus.

Feline excitement was running so high that even an innocent
bystander (aka this photographer) had to observe
at her own risk.

For some, the Magic of Christmas may not be so new, but all it takes is a little peer pressure to succumb to their inner elf kitty.

Looks more like inner jungle cat. This can't feel or taste good,
but he still does it every year.

Then there are the old pros who are totally unimpressed with all the Christmas fuss. They purr-fer simple shoe boxes.

I love everything about the Christmas tree so much.
You made this spot just for me, right?

Ahhh, Christmas exploration really wears a girl out!

Maybe she will finally stay off my dining room table now.

Each morning I breathe a sigh of relief when I walk downstairs and see the Christmas tree still standing.

More Wedding Bliss

2009-11-16T19:27:00.033-06:00

The Happy Couple

Kiss, kiss

Preparing the aisle

Sweet Gracies

Shy Gracie

Here Comes the Bride

The Vows

Groomsmen

Bridesmaids (and one unhappy flower girl)

Unity Candle

Love to Mom

Gracie's Grand Exit

The Acolytes

The Bestest Men

Blue Belles

Sweet Sisters

Seth and His Girls

The Wedding Party

All Smiles

The Sivells Clan

Proud Parents with the Couple

Yummy!

Miss You, Love You

2009-07-30T18:42:00.002-05:00

May you rest in peace, Molly Ann. You are loved.

Oh Happy Day, Part 2

2009-07-21T12:08:00.008-05:00

Proud Aunt

All my hard work!

The Happy Couple

Thanks to my most excellent niece, Krista, for the extra photos. Love ya!

Oh Happy Day

2009-07-20T19:21:00.031-05:00

Caleb & Felicia - July 18, 2009

The Festivities...

Bride-to-be

Grandma's Pixies and Sisters

By the Pond

The Wedding March

Trouble X 3

Pretty in Pink

Her Grand Entrance

All Smiles

The Hand-off

Vows

Kiss, kiss

Mr. & Mrs.

Big Brother and the Pixies

Love to Mom

And then my camera battery died...

The Last Birthday of Its Kind

2009-07-08T00:29:00.024-05:00

I remember the day he was born like it was yesterday. The date was May 21, 1987, and I was almost 16 years old. His grandma and I waited impatiently in an empty hallway, outside labor and deliver. We stood in front of a set of big steel gray doors that blocked our sight, but not the sounds of life or its beginnings on the other side. It was almost like we were die-hard fans waiting backstage to catch a glimpse of our favorite superstar.

The wait seemed excruciating, especially for a teenager wanting instant gratification. At first, the only noise we could hear was the sound of our own anticipation. Then suddenly a faint cry from behind the doors became audible. And it grew louder and louder. I realized that these were the first sounds of a tiny little person coming into this world, a stranger that I loved instantly. My mother and I looked at each other and both grinned ear to ear.

Moments later his father emerged from behind the steel doors. "It's a boy," he declared. We cheered in celebration, jumping up and down with joy.

A boy. A nephew.

Now at this point in my life, I was not new to aunt-hood. After all, he was the fifth in what turned out to be a long line of grandchildren and also the second boy. This was, however, the first family birth in which I was present at the hospital, so it made the day extra special, not to mention the fact that this particular boy was a long time in coming.

Yes, he took his time making his debut into this world. A couple of extra weeks to be exact. So the excitement and anticipation of his arrival was palpable up and down the deserted halls of that hill country hospital.

There are a lot of changes and new things happening in my family right now. With my birthday coming up and once again feeling the excitement and anticipation of change, I've been reflecting on what used to be and what lies ahead, as anyone would naturally do. As I look back on that little boy who made his way into this world with his own fan club waiting in the wings, there are certain feelings and emotions that I can only reserve for him.

Back in those days when my sister and her family would depart after a visit to Grandma's house, my first thought or reflection would usually revolve around her first born, Seth, and what he had invariably gotten into during his time at Grandma's. Sometimes my thoughts could just as easily involve her third child, Joel, the easy-going one who played so well with his cousins, or son #4, Paul, the sweet, angel-faced boy with long silky eyelashes that any woman would envy (Paul will hate that I've said this).

My first thought, though, usually wasn't about her second child, that curly, tow-headed little boy with big beautiful blue eyes and loads of energy named Caleb. This wasn't because Caleb was any less loved or appreciated, or that I never thought of him. It was just that he was, well, so quiet, which if you come from a big family, you know this usually means less attention on the whole.

Regardless of his quiet nature, I will always fondly remember him as the little boy who loved to be rocked to sleep by his mommy. I can never forget how my sister would sit him in her lap in a rocking chair, and he would lean against her, pacifier in his mouth. Her long hair would be flowing down around her shoulders and his. As she rocked him, you could see his eyes getting heavier and heavier and the sucking on his pacifier slower and less regular.

It was usually at this point that Caleb would shyly and quietly reach up over his head toward his mother and grab a lock of her hair. Gently he would twist it round and round, over and over again, caressing it lovingly between his tiny little fingers. With his finger movements getting slower and slower, he would finally drift off to sleep, fingers and mouth still, but arm remaining above his head. It was almost like he was reaching out to her for that extra little reassurance only a mommy can give before he could take that last step into unknown dreamland.

Caleb is the strong, silent type. A constant in the family, always quiet, always unassuming. In many ways stoic, even at a tender young age. Yet, when you look into his eyes, you see a hope, a potential and a curiosity about life that makes you think "wow, this kid is something special."

Now that special little boy is all grown up and doesn't need his mommy (or daddy even) like that anymore. He's still a man of few words, but it's hard to tell right now. You see, he is starting the next phase of his adult life, and it is such an exciting one, he can't help but talk about it.

He has chosen a bride and will become the father of twins very soon. I could not be more thrilled for him and his beloved, Felicia. I wish for them all the love and happiness that this world provides. I hope that their lives are filled with more sweet than sorrow and that they experience the joy of finding beauty in everyday, especially with those precious little babies on the way. I pray that Caleb and Felicia find the perfect balance for their new family and have unforgettable decades of possibilities in the years to come.

This is an aunt's sincere desire for her nephew, his wife, and the next generation that they carry, even if she is not quite ready to think of herself as that old. (Honestly, who gave these kids permission to grow up?!?!)

So with all this said, I think I can "forgive" Caleb for making me a great aunt WAY BEFORE I'm 40. After all, there are worse things in life than being called great. I think I may just have to totally embrace the title and require everyone to refer to me as such. Because by the time my birthday rolls around next year, I will in fact, be great.

So I will celebrate the last birthday of its kind for me. A birthday where I'm just a plain ol' aunt, like I've always been, looking forward to a new year full of greats.

Band of Brothers: (l to r) Caleb, Seth, Paul and Joel

Easter 1992

Old Friends

2009-05-26T14:01:00.009-05:00

Tragedy almost struck in the Williams household last week. Sweet, sweet Molly, my quiet and constant companion for almost 15 years, became deathly ill on Thursday.

Just as with Ginger in the past, I had my moment(s) of panic when the vet explained the meaning of her test results over the phone. My mind went instantly to the thought of not having her around every day. My Molly -- the furry alarm clock that pulls the sheets down from over my head and tries to entice me out of bed to feed her in the mornings -- not here anymore? Admittedly, the tears flowed.

I can only imagine the pain of such a loss. A loss my friends, Kara and Andre, are feeling right now with the news that their beloved dog, Zoee, is no more. A loss that is inevitable.

It is funny how these little furry creatures enter your life and grab hold of that tender place in your heart reserved for only the dearest souls. You find yourself doing things you never thought imaginable. Like sitting at the vet hospital for more than an hour on a Friday evening trying to get your kitty to eat...anything, please...just to keep up her strength because the vet says she does the best when you are there. Or giving up all your plans on a holiday weekend for Cat Watch 2009 after she comes home from the hospital. Well, of course, I have to. I want to. After all, we are old friends.

Molly is home and on the mend. We have skirted another feline catastrophe for now. And while we are not out of the woods just yet, we are very glad to be back at home recovering. That is, if you measure happiness by the volume of kitty purring.

At Last

2008-09-17T22:36:00.003-05:00

Today marked a huge milestone in my life as a homeowner. Today, just three weeks shy of my fourth anniversary living in the burbs, I finally finished painting all the trim and doors in my house! Hooray for me! Applause, applause, applause.

After four gallons of white paint and primer and applying a bazillion coats to the stained wood in every room and on every door, I have transformed my 22-year-old house from a country-themed granny abode reflective of the former owner into a sleek and modern dwelling in which any urban professional can be proud.

All that remained was the wall behind my gargantuan computer armoire in the study. And as soon as my sprained wrist and hernia heal from moving that sucker away from the wall, everything will be back in its normal place.

Oh, I remember the days of hanging over the side of my cat walk, my head wedged between the railing spooks, applying layer after layer of primer and paint, while my three furry assistants inspected my work and offered their help even though they don't have opposable thumbs. Such sweet kitties! (Someday I'll have to share with you the story of when I got my head stuck in the railing. It's okay...you can laugh...it's funny NOW.)

I have to say that I really got into my work, getting paint all over my clothes, body and hair. So much so, that co-workers would point out strands of primer in my blonde hair the next day. Do you know how hard it is to get primer out of your hair? About as hard as it is to get it out of cat whiskers.

But now, all of that is behind me -- just a faint memory. Now I can enjoy the brightness of white trim throughout my house. Now I can admire the crispness of the sleek clean lines. Now I can tackle the 20 foot walls and vaulted ceilings in my dining room, which are the ONLY walls I have not repainted, yet.

I'll posted pictures of my body cast after I fall off the ladder. On second thought...dear nephews, I may need your help!

Where has the time gone?

2008-08-21T14:55:00.016-05:00

So, I'm sailing along minding my own business with my nice little life. I go to sign into my blog. And what do I find? It has been a month since my last blog. A month! Where did the time go? It doesn't seem like that long since my last blog. Upon reflection of my comings and goings during those 30 days to see exactly how I've accounted for my time, I've made a few observations.

First, I am on the tail end (hopefully) of a very LONG lesson in patience. My friend, Heather, always says that God gives you the same lesson over and over again until you learn it. Well, for me that would be patience. (My mother would be the first to agree with this statement.) This whole year so far has been an exercise in exercising patience, but the last four weeks have been the most intense and excruciating. I think I get it, in fact I know I get it. Now I'm ready to move on to another area that needs improvement. Please. Thanks, God, for listening.

Speaking of improvements, I'm in the midst of a semi-major home improvement project. In fact, I've become the Picasso of room painting, transforming my guest bedroom and study. Secretly, I have an itching to redo my bedroom, but we won't go there just yet. It is kinda therapeutic to be in an empty room with a paint brush and your thoughts. It gives you time to reflect and adjust your attitude if your attitude needs adjusting. Although, I suggest that you use caution when moving furniture, as objects can be heavier than they appear and can thus cause injury to your otherwise perfectly working joints and limbs. I'm just saying...

And my final thought would be that you never really know what you have until you lose it or almost lose it. I can apply this to so many levels of my life, but my most recent experience occurred just 10 days ago when I came downstairs one night to find a trail of blood through my kitchen and living room. I was panic-stricken to find my baby girl, Ginger, bleeding and in pain. After a frantic run to the emergency vet clinic and a sleepless night of waiting for her to calm down long enough to give the doctor a urine sample (nine hours of high drama for the vet assistants to be exact), Ginger was diagnosed with a kidney infection.

Now some may say that Ginger is just a cat, but to me she is a member of the family, a 15-year member. She is older than many of my nieces and nephews and has been with me through college, law school, the bar exam, friend and family deaths, both Bush administrations, countless boyfriends, true love, and probably a dozen moves. I can tell her anything. She knows all my secrets and loves me unconditionally.

My head tells me that, at 15 years old, she won't live forever. But my heart can't imagine not finding her on my bed each morning purring. My eyes tear up even thinking about it. So I can't and I won't. All is good right now. We are on the mend, even feeling well enough play like a kitten again. So today is a good day for I am thankful for modern veterinary medicine and speedy recoveries. And will even forgive that hair ball left for me on my pillow.

Ginger on the mend

Christmas in July

2008-07-22T17:30:00.015-05:00

What did you do on your summer vacation? Well, let me tell you about mine to get the conversation rolling. I must have wa-a-a-y too much time on my hands because I decided to tackle painting another Santa Claus. My first experience in painting a ceramic Santa came in December, and I completed it just in time for the holidays. However this time, I decided to chronical my progress for those skeptics out there that can't believe I did it all by myself. Yes, I think that would be you, Stacy, my dear (heeheehee).

So here he is.

At the store

12 hours in

20 hours and counting

After 25 hours

A work of art in a mere 30 hours

You, too, can do this.

It will be very exciting to see his colors after firing. I will keep you posted on his baking and make a grand reveal, that is if Ms. Willie will let me take him home!!

Artistic Experience provided by Ms. Willie.

Pretty, pretty

2008-07-11T12:59:00.008-05:00

It may be 100 degrees in Texas right now, but my Queen's Lace vine is loving life. It's about to take over both sides of the fence.

And it's blooming up a storm which makes me smile and the humming birds absolutely love it.

And the kitties love watching the humming birds out the window, so everyone is happy.

Birthday Blessings

2008-07-08T00:04:00.007-05:00

Birthdays have always been a time of reflection for me – reflections of where I’ve been, where I am currently, and where I’m headed. Now granted my life is not exactly going as I envisioned it would at the beginning of my 37th year (37 yikes!), I still feel blessed by the life that I have built.

First off, I have wonderful family, friends, and pets. I am surrounded by people that love me and emotionally support me when I need it (lately that has been a lot, thanks folks). These relationships are truly positive influences in my life. Also, I have a beautiful home (even though the deer eat my pretty flowers and the guest bathroom paint project is not, yet, complete) and all the material things I probably will ever need. I’ve spent a lot of time, energy, and money to make my townhouse into a home, and I realize that not everyone gets that kind of opportunity, even in America.

In addition to blessings on this birthday comes a bitter sweet feeling, too. I am doing something my big sister will never get to do – celebrating my 37th birthday. With this day comes the acknowledgement that in my short life, I have spent more days on this earth than my sister. Since birthday #36, this thought has haunted me: if it was 1997 and I was Lisa, I would be experiencing my last year of life never making it to year #37. I just got my life in order a few years ago, and to imagine that it could all be over so soon is amazing and alarming.

On the other end of the spectrum, this will be my first birthday without a card in the mailbox from my friend Billie. Billie was my 80-year-old “Houston Mom” who died last fall after a long hospital stay, and I think about her often. Billie lived a long, eventful life. She married well and divorced even better to the power of three. BK had a knack for selecting the perfect card for any occasion. Sometimes she would even send cards for no reason at all. I always enjoyed finding envelopes in the mailbox with her return address on them. In fact, I still have a few of those famous cards on my refrigerator.

Lisa and Billie never met each other here on earth and were probably complete opposites in personality and lifestyle. But in my mind, they are somehow forever linked. These two remarkable women illustrate the frail and precious nature of our lives. By pairing them together as examples of extremes, they remind me of how precious life and relationships really are and how we should live everyday to the fullest no matter how many God gives us. And that in itself is a true blessing on any birthday.

The Williams Sisters

July 8, 1974

Summer Chillin'

2008-07-06T17:04:00.003-05:00

It's been an exhaustive weekend of helping my mother clean closets and organize her house. Don't get me started on her ability to keep everything. Meet my mother, the pack rat! Now I'm taking a break. It is hot, and I am tired. The only thing on the agenda today is relaxation. Just me and the kitties chillin'!

Happy 4th of July

2008-07-04T10:37:00.002-05:00

All in the Family

2008-07-02T23:33:00.008-05:00

So a few weeks ago, our family reunion made its annual appearance. But, this is not just any family reunion with grandmas and grandpas, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews. This is a very, very extended family reunion with cousins, cousins and more cousins so many times removed that you're not quite sure how you're related without the expert guidance of your grandma or her sisters.

This is a reunion that you can set your watch to: always on Father's Day and always for lunch after church (more specifically at noon) at the Maxwell Social Club. It's been that way since 1954. How do I know this? I checked the family book. Yes, since 1954, my family has been keeping minutes of this family "meeting", recording births, deaths, marriages, etc., annually in this compiled book of photos and sometimes-typed and sometimes-handwritten minutes. This book gets passed around among the branches of the family from host family to host family each year without ever getting lost or misplacing pages. I sneaked a peek this year for this first time since I was in grade school, and sure enough, there it was, the announcement of my birth way back in 1972.

The procedure is to sign in at the registration table and fill out notices for births, deaths, adoptions, marriages, etc., which get recorded in the minutes for the year. Everyone wears a name tag with their first and last name and underneath that the name of their ancestor who started this whole crazy thing. In my case that would be my great-grandfather, Fritz Germer, (this reunion was started by him and his seven siblings).

Since adolescence, I have resisted attending the reunion even when it is my family branch's turn to host. Something about being in a room full of mostly strangers who are relatives is something I just haven't appreciated. I didn't see the value in it, even though I enjoy genealogy.

Well, this year I got talked into attending by my aunts (actually it was more like guilted into going). My mother's sister and sister-in-law came down from the Dallas area to attend this year and spent a couple of days visiting at my mother's house.

It was the first reunion since my uncle died in April, and it was very important to his wife that she attend this year. I decided that it was better to go and support my aunt during this time than to argue with all three of them (an argument I would surely lose).

Looking around at the 100+ people who were in attendance, I began to really miss my grandma. Sure, she's been gone for almost a decade now, but I still miss her company, especially on occasions such as this when she can explain the family relations to me in a way so that my eyes don't cross in confusion. These are her people, after all! It was always easy for her.

I did find some peace and comfort in seeing some of her closest friends (who also happen to be her relatives). They never fail to mention to me how much they still miss my grandma when they see me. In a way it made me feel closer to her even after all this time.

I hope my aunt had the same experience, feeling closer to her recently departed husband by spending time with his family. As they called out my uncle's name among the recently deceased family members being entered into the minutes, I saw my aunt lower her head in grief. My wish for her that day was to find some of the peace and comfort I felt surrounded by family.

Rose Marie and Leona

Two of Grandma's favorite ladies (and mine too)

Introducing the Cast and Crew

2008-06-29T13:54:00.017-05:00

Now for the first time, making their world wide web debut. It's the one. It's the only. Three Amigos! They are the furry, fun and fabulous feline trio.

First up is Ginger. She's a saucy red-head, with the temper to match, who likes cuddling close on the couch and biting. Miss Priss welcomes any opportunity to be carried instead of walking herself (who can blame her at her age). Try as I might I am unable to convince her that she is not human.

Next is Molly. She is a super sweet blue-eyed beauty and a bit of a loner. Molly is obsessed with the food bowl and doubles as an early morning alarm clock (usually to tell me that the food bowl is empty). Molly's occupation is professional napper.

Last but not least, there's Willie, a.k.a. The Boy, a.k.a. Buddy. Willie is the youngest of the crew and the token male, who as such is like a bull in a china shop. He relishes the role of little brother and laps up any and all offers to be pampered. Super lazy comes to mind.

Hola

2008-06-13T18:32:00.004-05:00

Welcome to the fun-filled adventures of A Day in the Life of SassyChick. It is here that I will record my observations of a thirty-something single female wandering through this big bad world looking for life, love and laughter. Some may cheer...some may cry...but all will be entertained. So put on your favorite pair of shades and buckle your seatbelts. We're in for a bumpy ride!