Bigger or Better: Life outside of Texas

My balcony has become a place for misfits. Of the dozen green things growing in pots, I have purchased only one of them, and even that one was a reject. The tomato plant. The starter-seed pod was in the clearance section at Kroger's. [ I also bought a seed pod of  cilantro, but since that one didn't grow, I can't really claim that I rescued it. ] It has given me some small tomatoes. Not a big producer, but I don't need a bunch of tomatoes, so no loss. Last Easter, a friend gave me one of the lilies that had decorated the chapel. That one died, actually, but apparently they can regenerate at least once. The begonias were rejects, suspiciously with their soil still in a rectangular shape, but tossed aside after the floods (the pink from last year's flood, the red from this year's flood). Or maybe they saw the rising water as their chance to escape from the Lowe's Garden Center down the street. I don't know. They were found in detritus, and I have

I've been told that before a great blessing comes a great tribulation. Just one of those adages that people throw around when they are expected to say something consoling. Interestingly enough, though, I applied it to myself in reverse. Since getting married to Mark next month is a super-duper awesome blessing, I figured I'd better prep myself for some trials. Not big things, but the tempting minutia of life--like eating donuts or becoming impatient and rude with people. Just small little tributaries of the Great River Tribulation. Last Sunday, after attending a two-day course to teach healthcare professionals how to resurrect a manikin [it's tough stuff, let me tell you], I drove to College Station to spend time with Mark. Shortly after arriving, I got a call from the girl who had taken temporary charge of my dog. The sweet Potato had broken her leash and ran away. I couldn't go back that night, because searching for a dog in the dark in Houston is not a good ide

People tell stories of haunted houses or mysterious footprints or creaky stairs, all of questionable legitimacy (except for creaky stairs. they exist). But I daresay no one has yet recorded possessed plumbing. Yes You are already horrified, I bet. So many things can go awry. But actually I'm just talking about the drain, so you can come back from under your bed. The mood is set. Now for the setting. Fall 2015, College Station I drove up to College Station (actually, I'm still doing that on occasion) to visit Mark, and after we had played some Frisbee golf [which makes me get pretty filthy, since I tend to throw my discs into the river or bog or whatever puddle may exist.], I took a shower at his apartment. As I was washing that mud right out of my hair, I noticed that the shower was more illuminated than your typical bath/shower fixture. Which can be nice. I mean, with shower curtains, not a whole lotta light gets through to the person who is trying to circumspectly ins