Our new community has put bird boxes at all the mailboxes. Here is one of them
Thank you to Teddy for splicing and editing the videos!
“The Bluebird of Happiness”
Merry Christmas from Moody Mansion
The Willis-Moody Mansion was completed in 1895 on Galveston Island, the barrier island south of Houston, Texas. The architect, W H Tyndall, was English, and designed the 28,000 ft mansion in the Romanesque Revival style. The original owner was Narcissa Willis, a Galveston socialite. After her death in 1899, the mansion was put up for sale but in 1900 a devastating hurricane hit Galveston killing an estimated 6,000 to 12,000 people from both the impact and flooding. It is still the deadliest known natural disaster in American history.
The Willis family had to sell Narcissa’s home for a fraction of its worth – $20,000 instead of $100,000. The lucky bargain hunter was William Lewis Moody Jr, a scion of the Gilded Age in Texas. He made his fortune in cotton and diversified into banking, railroads, insurance and hotels. The family created a charitable trust, the Moody Foundation. Members of the family owned the house until the 1980s when it was turned into a museum. The mansion is on the National Register of Historic Places and is a Recorded Texas Historical Landmark.
The !900 hurricane did some damage to the mansion but it was mostly intact. There was further damage in 2008 from Hurricane Ike which flooded the basement. There will always be potential hurricane damage on a barrier island.
It was truly a beautiful house which seemed comfortable to live in. None of the rooms were oversized and it had a family feel.
Galveston is a favorite destination at the holiday season. They have a festival, Dickens on the Strand, which is the historic district. Participants dress up in Victorian garb which has evolved to include steam punk.
In a strange twist of fate, we had neighbors who originated from Galveston when we lived in a tiny hamlet in the north east of Scotland. The lady of the house had previously owned one of these Victorian homes in Galveston and loved all the Christmas events. I was enchanted by these tales (circa 1987) and imagined how much fun it would be to visit Galveston at Christmas time. Dreams can come true!
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Galveston, Oh Galveston
Teddy and I had a mini visit to Galveston in November. The weather was still hot, with a coastal breeze, and there were NO TOURISTS! We stayed at the Harbor House Hotel which is the opposite side of the island from the beaches. It is a short walk from there to the historic district. We were going take a harbor boat tour but the dolphins came to see us! They were playing just a few feet behind us in this photograph.
This was such a lucky capture of a brown pelican landing in harbor – they are resident year around. His landing was a tad ungainly but he swam off elegantly.
A cormorant is surveying his kingdom below. Galveston is such a strange mix of industry and seaside views. Wildlife seem to thrive amongst the tankers and cruise ships.
Above is Battleship Texas – click on the link for museum details. Below are the visiting white pelicans. White pelicans breed in the north at arboreal lake locations. Then, like all snowbirds, they go south for the winter.
I loved the silhouette of the boat tailed Grackle, below, amongst the fishing nets. They are southern birds who love the heat! They also have very loud voices, y’alls.
We went to our favorite roof-top bar at the Hotel. I liked the juxtaposition of the old rooftops and brick walls with the giant cruise ships behind. You couldn’t pay me enough money to get on a cruise ship…
Red Letter Visitor
I was putting the washing out to dry on the back yard when I heard one of our neighboring hawks screeching. They were very insistent and I wondered if there was a coyote. Normally all the big birds live together quite happily – red shouldered hawks, Cara Cara, red tailed hawks and even an American Kestrel. Teddy came out with his long lens camera and we scanned the skies. Suddenly, I spotted a large bird wheeling above our heads and just below a light plane.
After Teddy took the image we looked at the camera to see the capture and it was a Bald Eagle. Woo Hoo!!! There were some nesting pairs in the previous area that we lived in but we had never seen them. Construction work in the town center has disturbed their habitat. Bald Eagles don’t normally live in this area but we do get winter visitors from up north.
We were amused by the hawks’ understandable anxiety. There is plenty of fish in the pond for them to share. This morning Teddy heard the hawk screeching again and our visitor is back. I think he has found a nest site on the other side of the pond. Bald Eagles have a wingspan up to 7ft and can live between 20 and 30 years. Santa doesn’t need to bring us anything for Christmas this year!!
I wonder if our eagle is from Canada? If so, he is probably our first Canadian tourist this year, eh? 😊 Perhaps our hawk was screeching, “Tarriffs on Texas Fish”
G.C. Chesterton
I know, I know – it’s GK Chesterton, the author but this is GC (Gulf Coast Toad) Chesterton who resides in our garden. Neither GK or GC were lookers but both have a certain charm. Teddy had just lifted up our patio umbrella which was laying flat because of wind, when something landed on his head and then on the patio. I was so concerned that our newest pet might have been injured but as Teddy pointed out, his head broke his fall… After he regained his composure, he jumped off to wherever he normally lives.
The baby toad above is Junior and he has been living on our front door for weeks. Our Halloween lights have been attracting flying insects so he has been gorging on them before winter arrives. When they are digesting their prey, their little mouth quivers. Do you see the size of the poop next to him?? Geez Louise, how many insects did he eat? Late at night he changes shift with a bright green tree frog, who may be one of the poo-pertrators. We haven’t managed to get a photo of tree frog yet.
I was sitting in the living room, watching TV, when a small movement caught my eye. Was it a pine needle moving in the wind? No, it was the tiniest stick insect who moved quite fast when it saw the cameras. ‘Stick’ was barely an inch long and perfectly camouflaged – isn’t nature amazing.
Another day, I was attempting to wash the windows when this very cheeky Praying Mantis refused to move. I cajoled her into going into the grass but didn’t lift her in case she bit me! She kept trying to go back to the window, even when I was drying it. I have named her ‘Mother’. Praying Mantis eat other stick insects and anything else they can bite, so watch out little one!
It’s getting cool enough to walk around the pond behind our house. If you zoom in you can see a solitary heron on the edge. The grass and trees are suffering somewhat with the drought but it did rain last week and the pond filled up again. There are farms and homesteads behind the trees – I love hearing roosters crowing or a horse snuffling.
Above is a juvenile white Ibis with his protective darker coloring. He will turn pure white as he matures. An Ibis, a Heron and an Egret were sitting together – sounds like the start of a joke!
I was the first in our street to celebrate autumn with a fairytale pumpkin and my fall flag. Within days my display looked minimal – I am surrounded by full size headless horsemen, gigantic black cats, spooky trees and skeletons everywhere. I was looking at my across the street neighbors display and thought ‘have the skeletons moved?’ Daddy moves them every few nights so that the kids get a thrill – me too!
Happy Halloween!
If only I had a brain…
Teddy and I had a grand day out at our local country town, Brenham, Texas. Over the years we have visited many times and even considered moving there. Like everywhere else in this part of Texas, the town is booming with new construction. The main square, however, is still wonderful. The townsfolk were having a scarecrow competition.
We chose to eat at an Italian bistro located in a craftsman style home. It was quite charming and the tomato bisque was the best I have tasted. Our eyes were bigger than our tummies, however, and we could only manage a third of our dessert. This was my first big drive in more than a year and I was surprised at how well I managed it. We took the country roads and enjoyed the pastoral ambience.
It was fun to browse through the shops, looking at clothes I would never wear. We both bought tops at the thrift store. There are some wealthy ranchers in this area and Houstonians who have second homes in the country. Their cast-offs can be high quality.
There are some lovely murals throughout the town center and they look so good in the vivid sunshine. It is still far too hot here but it isn’t humid so it feels more pleasant.
The scarecrow was my favorite character in the Wizard of Oz. On a tangential but funny note, when my obsessive compulsive disorder was at it’s worst, I had a problem locking the front door. In real life, Teddy had accidentally closed the door on our cat who was unharmed but wailing. I would spend many minutes locking and unlocking the door as we left, whispering ‘no cats, no cats’. Teddy would sometimes break the tension by whispering, ‘no brains, no brains’. Most of the time I laughed and it stopped the compulsion. It lasted for decades, until all the cats were dead. Now I don’t even care if the door is locked…🐈⬛
October is OCD awareness month – a spooky month to choose but fits right in with my compulsions! In our new house we have a local small trash collecting company. They don’t have any of those fancy lifts for the wheelie bins, just two young lads on the back of the truck. I kept wondering why there was small bags left at the bottom until I saw them in practice one day. One of the lads opened my bin with his right hand, reached for my bags (missing the small stuff at the bottom). In his left hand was a half-eaten popsicle (ice-lolly) – he must have the immune system of a Komodo Dragon! My OCD fixated on that all day, oh to be so carefree…
The Old Graveyard
Autumn has started to seep into the deep south. It’s cooler at night but still hot during the day. Some leaves are falling with the gentle breezes. This is my favorite time of year. I haven’t been driving much this summer as my car refused to get cool. It’s vintage, like me, and I thought it was just on its last legs. Teddy took it to the auto shop last week and they fixed it!! Freon was leaking out of a broken pipe and now the air-con gets too cold. Fabulous and just in time for winter…
I changed my CDs (old skool) in the car and was enjoying zipping about listening to blues music. As I turned down the country lane to our community, there was a traffic jam. So much so that no more cars could turn onto the road. I thought, perhaps, it was roadworks – the road has plenty of potholes. As I inched closer, I saw that it was a funeral at our old graveyard. Suddenly, I felt so sad, even though I have no idea who had died. I have written before about this graveyard – still beautifully maintained by the community with gravestones going back to the late 1800s. This is my original post – The vultures sealed the deal
The plots are all owned by local families, some of whom may have been here since that date. It was one of the most charming aspects to our new community. Our neighbor is the son of a local man who owns 20 acres. When we moved to this part of Texas, 21 years ago, these farms were all intact with forested land. There are still farms and trees but we have encroached onto something that would have been idyllic. Ever since we left Glasgow, we have been incomers to various foreign lands. Despite the current climate, we feel at home in Texas but we still don’t belong.
I felt sad for all the change I have seen in my lifetime and perhaps for what might have been. My lovely air-conditioned house is truly a blessing, especially with modern insulation, but it is part of the problem. One part of me is truly grateful to have all the mod cons, and a car, but I realize that the pace of our technological breakthroughs affects our environment. When I was young, Glasgow was smoky and black with coal fired generators. After the Clean Air Act (1956 and 1968) and the discovery of natural gas in the North Sea, it seemed like we could have a better future.
Before we went crazy with Halloween costumes, this was a special time of year for our ancestors. The autumnal equinox, changing of the seasons and death of the summer. Samhain and Dia de los Muertos are ancient festivals that have been tweaked to appease our desire for FUN. Death is an important part of earth’s cycle and every creature on it. We should both honor and celebrate it. The more I thought about the early settlers in this area, my mind wandered to all the native Americans who lived here. I wonder what they thought of all those European settlers ‘sharing’ their land.
Communities have evolved from time immemorial. Neanderthals bred with Homo Sapiens. My DNA profile is so varied, it seems like my ancestors had a competition to see how many groups they could interbreed with! Scientific progress has allowed me to know that my ancestors were Mexican. With my mostly Irish heritage and a smidge of Native Mexican, I embrace both Halloween and Dia de los Muertas. I honor my ancestors (even the naughty ones) and I choose to feel both happy and sad in autumn.
Enjoy the season!
J M Barrie’s Birthplace
One of the delights in Kirriemuir was visiting the birthplace of JM Barrie, author of Peter Pan, which has been turned into a museum about his life. Barrie’s father was a weaver; the bottom floor of the cottage was solely used for weaving and the upstairs was where the family of 10 lived. It was a charming museum in every way, especially since you could imagine his youth and how that shaped him as a writer. There was some deep sadness in the family history – his brother, David, was killed in a skating accident when he was 14 and JM was 6. David was his mother’s favorite son and she was inconsolable after his death. JM tried to comfort his mother by pretending to be his older brother. Their mother, Margaret Ogilvy, found solace in the thought that David would be a child forever in their minds. This may have been the reason for JM writing about the boy who never grew up.
I have a confession to make – I didn’t enjoy the story of Peter Pan and couldn’t finish the book. Peter Pan was written to amuse JM’s wards (he was trustee/guardian of five boys) and incorporated pirates because the boys loved them. As a child reader, I just couldn’t connect with the story. Please don’t cancel me for criticizing your favorite children’s story! Prior to writing it, JM was a very successful novelist and playwright. I remember seeing The Admirable Crichton at the theater and thoroughly enjoyed it.
There was a deeper resonance to me with the cottage. My husband’s grandparents were brought up in poorer circumstances on smallholdings close to Kirriemuir. It was hard to imagine living in those tight living quarters with all those children – although perhaps they knew nothing different. When I was at primary school, two boys died in an ice-skating accident. They were playing on a swampy piece of farmland close to where we lived. On very cold years the pools would ice over. Soon after the land was drained but I remember the sadness to this day.
The Barrie family were very well educated despite their humble upbringing. JM went to school in Glasgow where two older siblings were teaching. From there he discovered his remarkable talent for writing and moved to London. He became rich and famous but not necessarily happy. He married an actress, Mary Ansell, and it was rumored that the marriage was never consummated. In later years his wife had an affair. JM demanded she end the affair but she refused to, so they had a scandalous divorce.
Barrie’s family came from a strict Calvinist sect called the Free Church, as did my husband’s grandparents. The Sabbath is sacred and life is lived according to their doctrines. I can only imagine what his parents thought of his connection to theaters and his actress wife but the couple were married in Kirriemuir (I wonder what his London bride thought of it)? Teddy’s grandparents moved to a more moderate church after they were married but I was concerned what they would think about me, brought up as a (gasp) Roman Catholic. All was well, thank goodness.
There were other less palatable rumors about Barrie’s relationship with his wards. One of them, when interviewed, indicated that he thought that ‘Uncle Jim’ was asexual and dismissed the rumors. The more I learned about JM, the more I empathized with him. A tragedy in his family, an unsuccessful marriage and a desire to remain in childhood, perhaps? On his desk it notes that he was ambidextrous and that he thought he wrote more darkly with his left hand. That might relate back to his strictly religious background but I can recall children being encouraged to write with their right hand, rather than left. Sinister is the Latin word for left. I can’t write very well with either hand – I am just not dexterous.
The museum was truly enchanting with a beautiful garden outside. There was a ‘fairy hunt’ around the museum and grounds – just for me! Apparently adults enjoy this as much as children…
Click on this link to find out more information about the museum.
Kirriemuir
From Glasgow we headed north to the much anticipated wedding which was in Glen Clova. The wedding location is in the foothills of the Cairngorm mountains and there was no room at the inn… Many years ago we had stayed in Kirriemuir to celebrate Teddy’s parents’ 40th wedding anniversary. His mum’s family had been farmers in the surrounding countryside and it was an opportunity to meet many new relatives. ‘Why not stay there again?’ we thought and it was a great choice. The wedding was a 40 minute drive from the hotel, perfectly manageable in the summer.
Kirriemuir is north west of Dundee, the closest large city and south west of Aberdeen. Glamis Castle is a few miles away – this was the childhood home of King Charles’ grandmother. Teddy’s mum danced a highland jig in front of the late Queen Elizabeth and her mother. Kirriemuir, itself, has two famous sons. J M Barrie, the author of Peter Pan, and Bon Scott, the guitar player from the band AC/DC. From the sublime to the ridiculous, eh? Both were celebrated all over the wee town.
It is the most unlikely little place for both of these folk heroes to have come from. They achieved a level of world renown for their very different skills. I will write another post about J M Barrie, whose personal life fascinates me.
Our hotel took full advantage of the famous sons with images and quotes all over. This is Teddy after eating the best breakfast we had on our trip. Black pudding, fried eggs, bacon – yummy and naughty. I am sure a food photographer would be horrified at my photo. All that is left is the debris from our gluttony. My favorite picture is the bull. Teddy was so photogenic in Kirriemuir, a place of happy family memories for him.
It was a short but soothing little trip to Kirriemuir for us after the busyness of Glasgow (and traveling to meet all the family). The weather was truly glorious for the wedding, if a tad hot for Scotland. Our hotel was an old inn and we didn’t expect to either need or have air conditioning. We had to go old school and open the windows! I think the heatwave had addled the brains of some of the residents. I heard someone shouting, as he staggered down the street, at 3 am in the morning. He was as drunk as a skunk. That brought back some funny memories of living in Glasgow. Men would get their cash pay packet on Friday, go the the nearest hostelry, and then drunkenly sing Irish rebel songs all the way down our street in route to their homes.
I was fascinated by the old fashioned shops and their windows. Here are a few below.
What next?
Since we returned from Scotland, I have been stuck, figuratively and otherwise. I have the material for potential travel posts but life has incorporated a series of unfortunate events, in a Lemony Snicket kind of way. Nothing earth shattering just – ‘what next?’ It took me a few weeks to really throw off my presumed Covid infection. Cough, cough, cough. When you have a chronic mental illness, viruses can knock your mental health sideways. Influenza is the worst for me, leaving me with lingering depression. This was different. Anxious one minute, hopeless the next, and back to my normal. I used it as an excuse to comfort myself with sugary treats (that upsets my digestive system). Poor Teddy! I must have been a bundle of laughs to live with…
Then, Teddy bumped his car into a rock on a narrow country road. This unexpectedly mangled the wheel and he had to get four new ones plus new tires which were ordered previously. Clearly it was a malevolent rock or a Troll in disguise, He asked if he could borrow my car when his was in the auto shop. “Of course”, I said. That evening I received a call from him to say that a tire had blown, on MY car, and he was waiting for AAA. Geez Louise – it’s been an expensive year.
When we first arrived home from Scotland, all our water was brown. It cleared eventually but it had a knock on effect on the whole home water softener and then the new fridge water dispenser. We have a tame plumber who solved most of the problems and increased our water pressure. Hurrah! We still had to pay him. The new fridge needs a new valve but it is under warranty. The dang thing wouldn’t drip when the repairman came around. I said, “I will make it drip”. He gave me that look – older lady complaining about nothing. As soon as I used it, it started to drip… “See, I told you it would drip for me!” I squeaked triumphantly. I don’t know why I was triumphant about my broken new appliance but I didn’t like his patronizing look. Sadly, I remember when the looks were lustful and patronizing. The repairman looked like a hamster so perhaps a lustful look would have been creepy?
I was just starting to feel a little better when I felt the warning symptoms of a urinary tract infection. That’s my absolute favorite illness; very painful and I can’t urinate to order at the doctor’s practice. I have had so many UTIs that I had a back up sterile container from the previous visit. When you arrive at the reception desk, the staff always query bringing your own sample. Sigh. Now I just say I have performance anxiety and that seems to work. Like many of us, I have had too many antibiotics throughout my life. It is becoming increasingly hard to treat UTIs because the bacteria have become resistant to the most commonly used drugs. The doctor gave me an antibiotic but sent my sample off to the lab to determine the PATHOGEN!
The antibiotics (which gave me a yeast infection) were completed when the results came through. “Stop the antibiotics – they don’t work on that bacteria”. Too late. This was a new bacteria for me – Citrobacter Koseri. It is usually not found in community populations and affects the immunocompromised. I went down a Google rabbit hole because I have obsessive compulsive disorder. Normally UTIs are caused by E Coli but I have previously had the one that causes the pink slime at the bottom of the shower, Serratia marcescens, another opportunistic bacteria. Every time I see that pink slime in a bathroom, I shudder with horror. If it is in my own home, I massacre it with everything at my disposal.
This new-to-me Citrobacter bacteria is sometimes found in livestock. Although I can see and hear livestock, I haven’t been cuddling anything. Then I worried about the soil in our garden, previously a field. Finally, I stopped OCD-ing because my brain was exhausted. The antibiotic seems to have worked and I am awaiting the next test results. My fingers and toes are crossed.
On a positive note, there is always a new critter to enjoy around our house. Teddy saw a red fox walking around the perimeter of the water. There was a new snake on our back doormat, an exotic stick insect on the front doormat, green tree frogs, a variety of other amphibians endlessly croaking including another salamander with spiders and crickets galore. Autumn has arrived and we are hearing the last of the Cicada song – my favorite sound ever. The whistling ducks have landed at the water in route to Latin America, likewise the hummingbirds.
I guess life would be boring if we didn’t wonder, “What next?”
Postcards from Kerry 