Blood Money

There are many lessons a freshman in college, who is 9 hours away from home, will learn.  Some sons or daughters will solicit advice from their parents and weigh options and consequences.  My 19 year old daughter does not fall into this category.  Heck, she doesn't even come close to teetering on the edge of respecting my years of experience.

Even though it was not our plan for Gabbie to take her car to school this year, her father and I relented and let her return with it after she came through Houston on her way back from spring break in Florida.  She's a good driver and with her roommate as co-pilot, we were not as worried about the long trip back to Fayetteville, AR.  Instead, our main concern was campus parking.  Specifically, would she actually visit the campus police station to purchase a parking sticker; would she park in the appropriate lot and how many parking tickets would she rack up in the 6 weeks left in the spring semester?

She left on a Sunday and by Tuesday we began to gather our answers. She called to ask for $36 to purchase a parking sticker for the remainder of the school year.  No problem. Glad to see you are being responsible. Since the closest green lot is only about 3 blocks from her dorm, it appeared all was well.  Until Tuesday evening:

Gabz apparently wasn't up for a late night stroll so she 

found an alternate spot in a parking garage:

This $15.00 penalty left Gabbie with just over $5.00 in her account, with 5 days left until
"payday".  Our agreement concerning her taking the car back to college was simple: 

We will not pay for parking tickets.  

Since she knew better than to ask for money.....

I suggested she get a part-time job instead. Certainly possible since she now 

has wheels and is only carrying 13 hours.  She mulled it over...maybe....and told 

me the next day she was still going to sell her blood, plasma to be specific, 

but needed proof of her social security number (her card is here, in Houston):

In just a bit I received this snapchat:

Ahhhh, very good Weedhopper!  You are learning valuable life lessons. 

You are also working awfully hard for a small amount of money, 

but you'll figure that out also.

A couple of hours later I received a second snapchat.

It will make a nice addition to the family scrapbook.

As will this one:

 I'm sure you are as anxious to know as I was....

So, Gab has a little pocket money to tide her over.  

And someone, somewhere will live to see another day 

because Gabbie Fontana took her car to college.

13.1 - I don't go all the way

Who knew my bucket had pockets? Pockets that have been camouflaged; well hidden behind a smug sense of complacency.

Most everyone has a bucket list, whether it's documented on paper or called to memory at the mention of an intriguing excursion or activity. I've never written a list and am more likely to admit there are many things I would never do or include on my list. Let's face it, I don't take many chances. Hence, the complacency.

Last year, however, I decided to run a 5k. Then I decided to run another one just a couple of months later. Done! Check mark on the running thing! Congratulations poured in over my accomplishment with questions about my continuing on towards a 10k or marathon.
"No, no", I proclaimed. "I have no desire to do either of those. I'm done!"
Or so I thought until a friend called Monday morning, excited over her friend's physical transformation - a byproduct of training for and running a half-marathon.

"Let's run one",  my pie-in-the-sky friend urged.

I heard myself saying, "Sure, I'll do it!".

"What? Did I just commit to running 13.1 miles?"

Her enthusiasm was contagious. How could I let my friend travel this path alone? So with her promise that we could choose "a really fun city" to run our 13.1 miles, we began our journey. Never mind I don't enjoy running.

Before the sun set, three more "non runners" committed to join us, with the stipulation they would train to run a 5k, and only a 5k. No problem! We'll adjust our sails and work up to a half-marathon, sandwiching a 10k in between.

Today, with the Couch to 5k app instructing each step and moment of our 30 minute session, we began. In eight weeks, we'll gather at the starting line, no doubt outfitted in brightly colored, coordinating attire and prepare to put a check mark on a step in a journey not expected nor previously desired. And I'll have reached deep into my bucket's pockets and pulled out a large chunk of complacency, thereby lightening my load on my way to 13.1.

Team Fontana

In March, Corbin competed in a local taekwondo tournament. Fred and I thought it might be fun if his sister coached him and surprisingly, she agreed! She has no coaching experience but in 4 years of lessons, summer training and competitive sparring, surely she must have soaked up some coaching tips!

Here's Gabbie watching as Corbin and his first opponent meet in the "contest area" in the middle of the mat:

Ok, so maybe she's not showing a lot of emotion, but all the better to keep her young protegee calm!

Master Seo didn't have any other fighters to coach during the 1st round so he offered advice during the rest period:

Again, seemingly Gabbie is not showing an overabundance of enthusiasm. Perhaps she was thinking about how she wished she had gone for a manicure so her hands would look better when she used them to direct Corbin's moves on the mat.

As for young Corbin, he put on the pressure, delivering a 7-0 win!

In his second fight, he was equally as strong, was leading after the first round and not even winded...

...which is good because his "coach" didn't feel it was necessary to give him the customary ring side seat during the break OR make sure he drank water!

He took another victory and a mandatory change in the color of his chest gear for his final match forced her to move from her "perch"!

And C-Man was victorious AGAIN!

And he and his coach brought home the 7 footer!

All joking aside, Corbin loved having her coach him and she truly did offer advice while in the ring and during the breaks. Congrats, kiddos!

Frederico es Cinquenta!

Translated...Frederick is 50! And what a celebration he had, globe trotting to celebrate with friends and family!

Here we are in Isla Mujeres, Mexico in November out for an adults-only dinner! From left to right: Don and Shelli Larson (relatively new friends from Gab's school), Rick and Cindy Platt, friends for 15 years and our children's Godparents, Shelly and Larry Beckham, friends from our small group at church, me and Fred, and Mark and Katryn Overaker. Mark is a childhood friend of Fred's and a current client of Dixie Freight Solutions.The whole bunch of us smiling 'cuz we're on a beautiful carribean island!

Aren't we cute in our matching "Frederico es cinquenta" T-shirts?

In December we traveled to see Fred's sister Susan in Denver. His other sister Cathy and his parents were able to join us. Jonathan is missing from this photo as well as Elyse and Alex, Fred's nieces who are away at college.

While in Denver, Fred has yet another birthday dinner with family, cousins and family friends!

Finally! December 16th rolls around and the celebration is at home in Houston. Jonathan's future step-daughters are anxiously awaiting cake.

Fred's holding his birthday gift from me...a photo book of all of our trips to Isla Mujeres.

My Sis

My big sis, Sara Lynette Dager, is resting comfortably in Heaven since the morning of Friday, November 28, 2008.

She fought a 4 year battle with amyloidosis, a rare disease that results from the abnormal deposition of a particular protein in various tissues of the body. Lynette's amyloidosis was in her heart and in 2004 she underwent a heart transplant. The disease was in remission for a while, but slowly it came back, causing a multitude of other problems in her body. She never gave up fighting and had such strong faith God would take care of her.

She had been in the hospital since July of this year. To know my sister is to know someone who always liked to be on the go. It was not easy for her to be away from her life at her lake house in Emory, TX. My sis was a talented painter and for many years she owned a business called "Treasures of the Heart". She designed, painted and marketed crafts similar to what you'd find in Old Town Spring near where I live.

Whenever our family was all together, (made difficult by the miles between our homes), the girls would shop and hit the casinos to play the slots! We traded clothes, shoes, purses and books we no longer used or needed and would lay on the bed or sit around the kitchen table talking about nothing in particular.

She was quite a bit older than me...so much so that she was married and had a baby 9 months BEFORE I was born! I truly was her baby sister and that's how she always introduced me.

Her goal was to make it out of the hospital and get home for Thanksgiving. This year, "Home" didn't mean Haughton, Louisiana... it meant Heaven. And that's the best place to be.

I love you sis and we all will miss you terribly.