Traveling to Austin this month, we stopped in Midland to see Warren and Sarah, the awsomest folks there are, and of course Hot Rod.  She’s doing well working two jobs, registered for her second year of college, and a busy social life which she would probably tell you is the only thing of importance.  Being surrounded by people around her age is the stuff of life.

Mustached Ladies

After taking leave there, we proceeded to San Marcos, located between Austin and San Antonio to attend the Texas Pecan Growers Association conference.  Dead Eye and The Elf went to Austin to the state Capitol where they learned first-hand the business of lawmaking.  As representatives, they served on the education committee and worked through education bills, killing or passing them before taking to the floor of the House.

My Love, gettin’ politicky

We slipped away from the pecan conference Monday and drove to the Capitol to watch.  The teens were amazing, following parliamentary protocol and bravely going to the floor to argue for or against bills.  Some of the issues were hotly contested and we loved watching these kids take interest in the law.  Great stuff!

Voting

Next day after the conference and dinner, we drove North again to Austin where we picked up my new puppy (YES!  ANOTHER one!  OK?)  I have fulfilled my dream of having a standard poodle.  I think our dog collection is complete.  Then on to pick up Matt and Becky from their final dance (oh the politicians’ night life!)  We left Austin after midnight and arrived in San Antonio at the National Shooting Complex just after 2:00 am.  Then up at six.  Becky had bow check at 7:00 and Matt had a safety meeting at 7:30.  And so it went, ad infinitum.  A week of not sleeping enough, oppressive heat, kids having to be shipped to fields all over the place, puppies that had to be walked in the mud and tangled themselves up and around my legs twenty times a walk, and the fire ants, and more fire ants, and crazy annoying fire ants!

Every time I stopped in one place for more than 30 seconds, my ankles would be covered with angry, revengeful, multitudinous little devils.  First was a a nagging little thought out on the periphery of my mind, a thought of growing discomfort, which would move with increasing rapidity to the front, and finally the realization would hit: MYANKLESAREONFIRE!!!  After which I would reach down to swat while the puppies ran circles around me and tangled themselves and my legs in the lines.  The hair hanging in my face, the sweat running down, the second wave of ants beginning to bite.  I would walk back to the trailer half-pulling, half-dragging the confused dogs to where I could take my shoes off and knock the rest of the ants off them.  Most times I would get a final bite several minutes later up in the inner thigh area.

And I was grumpy.  And tired.  And grumpy.  Did I mention I was grumpy?  No matter the scope of the state 4-H shooting match (1050 kids) and the crazy-great complex.  I just didn’t feel myself and I couldn’t seem to mount past my mood and “do violence to myself” as all the saints have done.  I just griped and was not cheerful.

Them Elves = Good Archers

Dead Eye

What the Shirt Says

One Tired Puppy, or is it Two?

Finally Saturday ended the shoot and we hung out near cousin Kevin’s tailgate with his all-important cooler and all-important Jennifer and Danelle and sipped wine and traded shooting and archery stories.

Sunday morning we attended a reverent Mass at the beautiful St. Anthony Claret Church which stands conspicuously across the road from the shooting complex.  Matt said every shooting complex should come with a Church.  Becky answered that every Church should come with a shooting complex.  What a joy to be in Mass, and the Blessed Sacrament was centered behind the altar where it SHOULD be!  Amen!

Somehow, no matter how distant I feel from God, how neglectful I’ve been, how mindlessly I’ve lived without reference to Him, how sinful, I am at home when Mass begins.  Joy seeps in through my pores and my spirits begin to soar.  And He forgives me and is happy to see me here.  Mass is home.  St. Therese talked longingly of the Fatherland.  To me, Mass is the foretaste of the Fatherland as it is a replica of the heavenly liturgy.  Everything is right again when I am at Mass, and all the internal fighting and bickering and misery from the previous week has miraculously fallen away and all that is left is sheer joy!

After Mass ended I noticed the confession room was open and the light was green!  Knowing how badly I felt about my grumpiness and negativity all week, God gave me the green light to unload it all.  I came out light as a feather.  It was wonderful.  Thank you, God.  You’re the best!

As a parting shot, here are some road rules for the National Shooting Complex during the Texas State Shoot:

1. If you are driving a cart anything goes.
2. If a pedestrian up ahead looks like he’s about to cross the road, speed up so you can get by before he does. It saves time.
3. Don’t bother getting behind the wheel unless you plan on texting, too. In fact, save the texting for while you drive.
4. When parking at the campground, always leave the rear of your truck sticking out in the roadway so as to impede traffic.

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