Chicks dig the long ball

From the Triple-A Home Run Derby held in Albuquerque tonight. Our seats won't be that great for watching the All-Star Game on Wednesday--we're sitting at the far end of the third base line near the foul pole--but it was great for watching the home runs being hit tonight.
Evidence of my gastrointestinal fortitude--barbecue nachos. Just trust me that these are really good--odd but good.
The view from our seats back to home plate. The hitter is a wee thing far, far away.
The fielders--local Little Leaguers--ready to spring into action. Or at least stand around and chat. The wind picked up a bit as the sun went down so these guys saw some action.
During one of the breaks, the fielders relax. The one lying down was making "grass angels"
Harry Canary, one of the Zooperstars! characters at the Derby, captured on the Jumbotron.
The winner of the Home Run Derby was a retired Isotopes player--score one for the home team.

And the night ended with a bang.

Monday morning photos

Just 6055 feet lower than my own house.
Action shot on one of the bouncers at the 4th of July Celebration
So serious about listening to that iPod

Playing with sidewalk chalk in the short window of no rain--the drawings were done by me. They're fairly indicative of my actual drawing abilities.

Hope springs eternal

So, most of the past week's vacation was a wash for my sister and her family, if you'll pardon the pun. They had all kinds of plans to go to the beach and let the kids spend most of the time outside playing in the little inflatable pool my mom purchased for the occasion, in addition to lots of bubbles and water toys. Alas, none of that was to be. It rained every day of their vacation thanks to a low front that has camped out over Texas for almost a month. Of course, it wasn't raining in *their* part of Texas during the week. Such is life, I guess (although it still makes for a crummy vacation).

I arrived on Wednesday evening and rather enjoyed spending three days in the rain. In addition to enjoying all that humidity that my skin and hair just soaked up, it was also a surprising 15-20 degrees cooler in Bay City than in ABQ. And happily, the clouds also stayed away long enough for the fire works display to go on as planned on Wednesday evening. The Bay City celebration included jumpers for the children, Otto the Helicopter's firework show, and a firework display that made us all oh and ah.

Abigail was happy to find, upon investigation of my "packpack" shortly after my arrival, that I did, indeed, have the kind of gum she prefers. As she was chattering on during one conversation, she explained that while my gum was good, she really liked her Mama's gum better but Mama didn't have any in her purse. Score one for Aunt Carrie. Abigail was also entertained by my iPod, commandeering both earpieces after I shared just one. I think she managed to scan just about every song and podcast I've got. When I was still a little bit in charge, I skipped one song, unnecessarily explaining, "That one has a bad word in it." I don't know if she'd actually pick up on it but I didn't want to be responsible for her learning the use of "ass." That became her battlecry as she'd fast forward through the playlist. Huh--who knew Enya, the B-52's, or the Learn Spanish podcast all contain bad words.

After dinner on Wednesday, when the "packpack" was in the back of the Suburban, we continued the investigation with my purse. I impressed my mom and sister with the wide amount of items I can get into a smallish purse. Abigail was most impressed with an emery stone I have. It's round and stored in a case about the size of a compact. She was enthralled with that thing, requesting my "stone" every time we got in the car after that, just wanting to hold it. She also explained the use of it to everyone in the car, telling her dad, "It's very good for rough nails." We further examined the contents of my wallet when my mom actually wanted to use the emery stone, holding on to both the wallet and emery stone when Mom finished using it. Abigail was disappointed when I wouldn't give her the emery stone when we got back into the car after the fireworks. It was quiet for a bit then her little voice piped up, "Can I have your wallet?" (She didn't get that either.)

It wasn't raining on Thursday morning in Bay City so everyone loaded up after lunch and we headed to the beach. About halfway there, it started pouring down rain. We soldiered on, optimistic that we'd drive out of the storm in the next 15 minutes. Unfortunately, it continued to rain. Amy, Mom, Abigail, and I ran to one of the shelters on the beach and then Mom and Abigail decided to head on down to the beach. The surf was really rough--Mom never let go of her death-grip on Abigail--but Abs got to play in the ocean which is exactly what she wanted to do. She didn't seem to care that it was raining the whole time. During one lull, the rest of us waded down to the surf and played for a bit longer until it began thundering, ending the rainy outing to the beach.

Amy and her family left Friday morning so Mom and I ran a few errands and stopped by the still-under-construction new house. We got caught during one downpour in the house next door that is also under construction. During the 2o minutes or so we were in there, we decided how we'd completely change the floor plan to make it better and tried to convince the electrician who was working to add another outlet box at counter-height for the breakfast bar (he didn't do it but agreed it would be a good idea). Mom, Dad, and I also stayed up *way* too late chatting about everything and everyone on Friday night, not going to bed until about 1:30. There is a very good reason we all have that 10:00 bedtime. We were three very cranky, crabby beings on Saturday.

It was raining in ABQ when I arrived back home Saturday night but as much as most of TX doesn't need more rain, we desperately need it. Paul and I have another busy week this week, including the Triple-A Home Run Derby on Monday and the All-Star Game on Wednesday. Then I'll probably make a quick trip to visit my grandparents in Sunray before heading back home to get ready for vacation and finish up a few projects I wanted to finish before the end of summer. Once we get home from Hawaii, there will only be one week before school starts again. Just doesn't seem possible--I need a few more weeks to get everything done.

Paul, on books

A snippet from a conversation tonight:

Me: So, this book I'm reading now (The Double Bind by Chris Bohjalian) references The Great Gatsby, which I think I read in high school or college. I remember portions but not the whole of the story, like I probably skipped chapters just to get finished with the assignment. I'll probably reread it when I finish this book.

Him: Huh. That was one of the better books I was forced to read.

There you have it. And if that isn't just an overwhelming recommendation for a book, I don't know what is.

Recommended reading

Paul and I frequently have date night at Page One, our local and locally-owned bookstore, even if neither one of us is in need of reading material--we just wander around for a while, maybe buying something, maybe not. It's just a nice way for us to spend an evening.

While we were there in late May, I saw the book The Worst Hard Time on the bestsellers shelf and was intrigued by the title. Upon opening it up, one of the first things I read was Dalhart which was the closest big town near my hometown (big being a relative term--6000 or so people but it was way more than the 400 in Texline). The book chronicles the Dust Bowl era, focusing on the towns of Dalhart, TX, Clayton, NM, and Boise City, OK. It explains the causes of the dust storms that were a result of both a horrific drought and extreme farming. Millions of acres of range were plowed in the 20's and when the rains stopped coming in the early 30's, much of that land was left barren which in turn fueled the dusters that blew through the Plains.

I'm not normally one to recommend books--strange given my position as a librarian but I know that just because I enjoy a book doesn't mean others will and I'm always a little worried that someone will think I'm idiot for liking a certain book, etc. Even when the students ask, I just give a synopsis of the book and let them decide.

But I'm honestly having a very hard time not gushing about this book to every single person I know. I'm sure much of that has to do with the fact that it's talking about where I grew up and some of the names (Coon, Herzstein) are name I recognize from Dalhart and Clayton. Aside from that, it's just absolutely amazing to me the conditions that lead to the "Dirty Thirties" and just how tough (obstinate?) these people were to survive a decade basically unable to do anything with their farms. I think I knew on some level how difficult it was--my grandparents were farmers in Texas and Oklahoma and had talked about it. We'd cover the topic in American history in high school and I'm sure I'd heard people talk about it when I was growing up. But it wasn't until I was actually reading this book that is talking about the area where I grew up that it has really sunk in as to how bad things honestly were. Paul has taken to rolling his eyes whenever I pick it up to read because he knows he's about to get a history lesson that he really doesn't want.

I took the book with me in June when I went to Amarillo and was staying with my maternal grandparents. I hadn't started reading the book at the time but I wanted to show it to them and get their take on the Depression and the Dust Bowl. I'd heard snippets from them as I was growing up but it's always so nice to hear a little bit more. So much of what they said was mirrored in stories told in the book--I'm sure the stories are similar for all the families in the area. My Gran grew up in (help me out here, Mom) Follett, TX--one of the little towns on the map at the front of the book. Her father was the custodian of the school there. I love hearing how Gran would be "sick" during the day so she could go to the custodian closet and visit with her daddy, who died when Gran was 11. Gran said she remembered hearing stories about people basically going crazy because of the wind and the dirt (at which time, both of my grandparents said, "Oh, the wind! The WIND!") One of the ladies in her little hometown grew so tired of it all that she killed her children and herself because the wind and the dirt never stopped. They'd wear wet rags over their mouths and noses to try to keep out the dirt, sometimes to little avail. My Granddad grew up in Cottle County, TX near Paducah in the southeastern part of the Panhandle. His family was farmers--he remembered how black the sky got when one of the storms would roll through. (Both: "Couldn't see your hand in front of your face! Chickens went to roost it was so dark.") He remembers one of the neighbors, Mrs. ----------------, pulling him and his brother Ray into her storm cellar as they were walking home from school. A duster was rolling in and they'd most likely wouldn't have made it home if she hadn't grabbed them.

I've always thought that photographs of farmers taken during the Great Depression look like my family photo album. Granddad starting laughing so hard when I said this that he had tears in his eyes. But it's true and he agreed with me.

My grandparents and great-grandparents definitely had very little during that era. Just as with all of those farmers on the Plains, I'm amazed at their ability to survive in some very dire conditions. My paternal grandmother has said about the Depression that it was hard to know you're poorer when you've never had anything to begin with. Her family lived in southeastern Oklahoma--where many of the "Okies" heading to California were from. Her family chose to stay put--they didn't have the means or the inclination to leave. Paul's maternal grandparents, Owen and Reva, postponed getting married because the Great Depression started as they were graduating high school. Both of them needed to work to save up some money and Reva couldn't do so if they were married. Paul's paternal grandfather was already teaching at the time and took a 50% pay cut (but was happy to have any type of salary since many didn't even have that).

Gran and Granddad gave me their copy of The Grapes of Wrath to read because they were amazed/appalled when I said I'd never read it. I've read lots of other Steinbeck and I think I've seen the movie. They wouldn't buy it and handed me the book with firm directions to read it (and give it back when I'm finished). I'm sure my education on the Great Depression and Dust Bowl will continue when I return the book which is definitely fine by me. I'm thrilled to be able to talk with these survivors and even prouder to be their granddaughter.