NEWSLETTERS

May 2003
©2003 Terri Hendrix

"If there is no wind, row." -- Latin Proverb

"Whether you think you can, or can't, you're usually right." -- Henry Ford

"Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly."

Hello there, and Happy May. Hope you've weathered the time change well and your clock's tickin' to a beat you can tap your toes to. Taxing times, I know. Still, there's flowers a-bloomin', birds a -singin', and summer hot on our heels to turn around and embrace.

For me, the Texas heat started early. Last Thursday, as the sun was at its peak, I closed on and moved into a new (old) home. Just as I plucked my florescent orange appraisal sticks out of my property and hoisted my size 10's up on my new (old) picnic table in my backyard, I discovered that the AC and compression unit in my new (old) home needed to be replaced. As I was entertaining thoughts of fleeing back to my old (old) residence and begging the new (young) owners for my former casa back, my world came to a halt as I noticed the carpet was wet. Actually, the carpet was drenched. I came to find out that when my (old) AC shuffled off to ventilator heaven, it left behind a little leak. No, not a leak ... a storm. It poured and poured, flooding a good portion of my (new) (old) house.

Trust me, friends, at that point, I *really* wanted to run. But I didn't. I stood my (wet) ground and faced the music -- even though it was one of those self-absorbed, monotone, flat-colored, lengthy, no-zippity-in-the-doo-da, pious ditties I couldn't dance to. Determined -- come heck or high water -- to prove myself master of my domain, I pulled out my weary checkbook and waded to the phone to call the flood hot line. As they were on their way with invoice in tow, my toilet decided to join the fun and spring a leak of its own -- with a joyful spurt all over the bathroom floor. I noticed this, of course, *after* the plumber had already left for the day. Thankfully, he's a great plumber -- but I can't tell if he's just plain nice or overly thankful that he's had a full-time job ever since I bought this place. Every time he leaves, something new leaks. Tomorrow, I'm going to have him pretend to leave, wait in his car, and fool the pipes.

Anyway... after I called the plumber again (I have him on speed dial), and after the home warrantee folks hung up on me, the clean-up duo (with child in tow) arrived. As the cleaner-uppers were cuttin' my rug (literally, in large, squishy chunks) and treating my water-logged floors, I taught their kid how to draw the number three. "You see," I told her, "you take the top portion of a heart, turn it sideways, and it makes a three!" She got it! As she made threes, I attempted to straighten out some kinks in my upcoming gig schedule (I'm an *artist* ... why do I have to mess with this? On today, of all days!), answered email, did more ABC's with the kid (she wouldn't say her name -- she spelled it, and I couldn't read it), resuscitated my computer from yet another crash, fiddled with the fax machine to fix a paper jam, rescued a contract from the kid's Crayola, replaced the ink in the printer, cleaned up the kid's juice spill, and pondered just why I didn't take my mother's advice and learn the art of underwater basket weaving in regards to my career choice. Meanwhile, the kid -- having grown weary of makin' threes -- is zipping back and forth like a lightning bug, her folks have vacs set up all over place that are blowing paper and carpet around in the air like a tornado, and the dogs are going howlin' mad (before runnin' scared out the doggie door). All this while I chatted with my new (new) insurance agent (paperwork still in fresh ink) regarding the status of my ... flood. Finally, I paid the crew -- it took all of us (even the kid) to lift my check into their truck -- and they drove off, leaving their singin' vacs to serenade me for the next three days.

On days like today, friends are invaluable -- even though they all muttered their disappointment that I didn't invite them over for a BBQ and a tube float down the hallway. I laughed at that thought and answered their questions. Yes, I had an inspection. Yes, I was totally aware of some of the issues I *might* be facing when I bought my new (old) home. Yes, I still adore my new (old) place, and so do my mutts. No, it's not a lemon. It's a watermelon -- sweet, but with seeds. In fact, I told them that today, just as I caught the crew's kid right before my mutt Carolynn could eat her, I noticed that the plants in my new (old) backyard are all reaching their leaves towards the sun and just on the verge of blooming. I vowed to each of my friends to have them over -- not to revel in my flood, but for my garden's grand opening.

Warm (from my temporary sweat lodge in San Marcos, TX) regards,
Terri Hendrix

P.S. Happy Graduation ... AND ... congrats for making The University of Texas' Dean's List ... Anne Currie!!! It's been a joy having you work with me at Wilory Records. I'm happy you've chosen your real job (stayin' on with me after graduation) ... instead of mastering underwater basket weaving techniques, as your wise mother might have suggested.

P.S. Thanks for my Charlie Brown drinking glasses Nicole Webb!
P.S. Thanks for the new (old) overalls Irene!
P.S. Thanks for the bunny you made me ... and your wonderful jar .... and poetry Lauren!
P.S. John and Margie ... you can do it! Good luck to you both!
P.S. You, yes ... you! Thanks for being a part of what I do and supporting my music.

© THM Music - May 2003

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