So we have a sweet dog, Sadie. She was rescued from being euthanized twice before we picked her up from Fireplug Rescue. She is maybe the sweetest dog I've ever had. When we got her, we were told she was afraid of thunderstorms, but "give her a Benadryl, and she'll be fine."
Whatever.
Benadryl did nothing. Two did nothing. It's a blast when you are trying to sleep, and the storm comes through at two in the morning. She used to jump up on the bed, walk across whatever bodies happened to be laying there, and jump down. She either turned around, jumped right back up, and did it again, or walked around the bed, and did it from the same side again.
The vet prescribed "doggy Xanax", and she "should be fine". That did nothing. So he prescribed Valium. No effect. Finally, he gave us Ace-Promazine. It's what they give dogs just before they put them completely out for surgery. When she is on the drug, she barely functions. She staggers around, and looks half asleep.
Perfect...until the first clap of thunder, and it's like she has nothing at all. She has progressed from just jumping on the bed to stepping, standing or climbing on your stomach, chest, or face.
"Yes, Sadie, we are aware it's storming, but thanks for making sure we know about it."
Nothing will console her.
If we are both gone, as we both are most of the day, since we both work, Sadie decides she has to get somewhere. She isn't sure where. She just knows it isn't where she is at the moment. She's smart enough to know a closed door leads to somewhere else, but apparently not smart enough to know it is just a bedroom, and the thunder is just as loud in there.
A few years ago, we lived in a house with a cat door leading out to the garage. It was 5" x 8". She tried several times to get into the garage. She knew we left that way, so I guess she wanted to come find us. The cat door had a plastic piece that closed the opening, and she learned how to get that out of the way. So I super-glued it shut. That didn't even slow her down. So I bought the industrial epoxy, use this, and it will NEVER come undone. Not a problem for Super Sadie.
During a storm one day, we lost a solar screen from the upstairs bedroom. It was a 48" x 72". The screen was in perfect shape. The clips that held it to the house had broken. So I set it outside in the garage. I'm pretty sure it was at least a couple of feet from the door. We came home to find it was inside the laundry room, and had been torn to shreds. How a 48 pound dog manages to pull that big screen through that tiny opening is still a mystery.
In another storm at our current house, she decided she didn't like the living room blinds, or that they were somehow making the thunder louder. So she basically shredded them. Thankfully, she stopped there, before she tried to shred the window.
A few weeks ago, we came home to find the carpet in the bedroom hallway had been pulled up, and a large portion had been shredded. We think Pepper (our other dog) helped her actually tearing the carpet into strips. Pepper was rescued from the side of the road, and we drove an hour and a half to go pick her up.
No telling what the canines had in mind with the carpet. Our house is just a single-story, so it isn't like they needed to tie the strips together to escape. Boredom will do that for a dog, I guess. Pepper gets bored pretty easily, and I guess she talked Sadie into letting her use some of the carpet to entertain herself.
It's hard to be mad, since the carpet was going to come out anyway. We just weren't planning to do it until we actually had the money to put hardwoods down. If only I could teach them to get a part-time job to help pay for the damage they do. If they weren't so cute and loveable, when they're tired anyway, they would have been given away a long time ago.
But when you come through the door at the end of a stressful day, their sweet faces greet you at the door as if you were the best thing God ever created. What a wonderful thing to come home to. If it hasn't been storming...
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Merge Now
Most of us who drive more than 15 miles to work have that one spot where one lane ends, due to construction, an accident, or by design. And there are always the people who know the lane ends, and they need to merge, but they insist on staying in the lane until they reach the end. Then they force their way in, happy that they managed to get a few cars ahead.
On our last trip to Eureka Springs, there was quite a bit of construction going on, with lanes closed for miles. Not one person went to the end, and forced their way in. They say that Texas has the most courteous drivers. (Obviously they don't drive in Dallas very often). But this had little to do with courtesy. At the beginning of the construction, long before the lane ended, were huge signs that read:
"Merge Now - State Law"
How awesome is that? And it got me thinking...how many other signs could we make?
"Yield means the cars coming off the freeway have the right of way. Slow down or move - State Law."
"Stereos turned up loud enough to vibrate other cars out of their lanes are strictly prohibited - State Law"
"The little lever on your steering wheel activates your signal. Use it - State Law."
"Applying mascara is just as dangerous as texting. Your car is not a bathroom. Put it on before leaving, or after you get there - State Law"
"When traffic is stopped, and you pass everyone by driving 60 mph on the shoulder, your car will be sold at auction, and the money given to those you passed - State Law"
"Motorcycles driving down the stripe to pass through traffic will have doors opened for them - State Law."
"Cigarettes thrown from cars will be collected, and dumped on smoker's lawn at the end of the month - State Law."
"Honking your horn the millisecond the light turns green strictly prohibited. Violators will have their horns removed, and placed at random hidden places in their homes, and honked at odd hours in the middle of the night - State Law."
Coming up with this list, and realizing I could go on makes me wonder. Are other drivers really that rude? Or does it just irritate me more the older I get?
Maybe both.
On our last trip to Eureka Springs, there was quite a bit of construction going on, with lanes closed for miles. Not one person went to the end, and forced their way in. They say that Texas has the most courteous drivers. (Obviously they don't drive in Dallas very often). But this had little to do with courtesy. At the beginning of the construction, long before the lane ended, were huge signs that read:
"Merge Now - State Law"
How awesome is that? And it got me thinking...how many other signs could we make?
"Yield means the cars coming off the freeway have the right of way. Slow down or move - State Law."
"Stereos turned up loud enough to vibrate other cars out of their lanes are strictly prohibited - State Law"
"The little lever on your steering wheel activates your signal. Use it - State Law."
"Applying mascara is just as dangerous as texting. Your car is not a bathroom. Put it on before leaving, or after you get there - State Law"
"When traffic is stopped, and you pass everyone by driving 60 mph on the shoulder, your car will be sold at auction, and the money given to those you passed - State Law"
"Motorcycles driving down the stripe to pass through traffic will have doors opened for them - State Law."
"Cigarettes thrown from cars will be collected, and dumped on smoker's lawn at the end of the month - State Law."
"Honking your horn the millisecond the light turns green strictly prohibited. Violators will have their horns removed, and placed at random hidden places in their homes, and honked at odd hours in the middle of the night - State Law."
Coming up with this list, and realizing I could go on makes me wonder. Are other drivers really that rude? Or does it just irritate me more the older I get?
Maybe both.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Our Anniversary
It was our tenth anniversary, and we booked a four-day weekend at a little room overlooking Beaver Lake in Eureka Springs. They had separate cabins, but those were booked. So I booked a small suite in the main building. When we arrived, there were several deer out front, and they didn’t seem too concerned that we were there. They watched us carefully, but didn’t run away, even when we stared at them. What a perfect place! Our room faced the East, and had a spectacular view of the lake. This was going to be a stress-free, relaxing weekend away from the busyness of life.
So we got to the room, and after quite a bit of information from the owner, we began to relax from the long drive. I laid down on the bed, playing with…I mean, adjusting the bed. It was a Sleep Number bed, and I needed to know what my comfort level was. After ten minutes or so, I got up, and went and sat in the chair.
Dawn looks over at the bed from the other chair where she’s sitting, and notices there is a creature on the bed.
It went something like:
“That’s a weird kind of bug. OH MY GOSH, IT’S A SCORPION!!”
It’s a shame I can’t convey the shivers in her voice, or the mild convulsions on display.
I thought at first, she was mistaken. What would a scorpion be doing on our bed in Eureka Springs? Looking closer, I could see it was a scorpion, alright. About an inch and a half long, it was happily wandering down the edge of the bed, no doubt wondering why I had left the bed for the chair.
I wish I would have thought quickly enough to get its picture to share. But I was still trying to figure out what he was doing there. And, if I didn’t kill it quickly enough, my wife would decide to leave right then for the Holiday Inn. So I knocked it to the floor, and killed it with my hiking boot. It was only after I returned from the bathroom with a wad of toilet paper sufficient to keep me from accidentally sticking myself with the stinger, that I really noticed the color of the carpet.
It was green, and I had noticed that. But it also had plenty of flecks of brown and grey. So it took me a moment to find the dead creature. I say dead because I started to worry that it hadn’t really been dead, but had somehow scampered off under the bed. If that were the case, I would have been joining my wife at the Holiday Inn. I soon found it, a foot or more from where I remember it being, but it was dead.
“I can’t believe it was just crawling around on the bed,” Dawn said. “You were just laying there.”
“Yes, dear,” I thought, “that occurred to me, too.”
Of course, she was pretty unnerved. I played the part of the valiant husband/scorpion killer, and showed her how unworried I was by telling her that there couldn’t be another scorpion in the room. She herself said she had never seen one, so it was unlikely there would be two in the same room. In the back of my mind, however, one word kept rolling through my head.
Infestation.
Great. So now, I would only walk through the room in my shoes, looking with the brightest flashlight I have ever had, checking every square inch of the floor for any more intruders. I would be more than happy to step on any that might be there, but not barefooted.
I’ve been stung by fire ants, a yellow jacket, a red wasp, and even a hornet. I’ve never been stung by a scorpion thankfully.
After a thorough search of the room, including behind the headboard, in the chair cushions, behind the television, heater, chairs, chest, plant and magazine rack, I felt pretty sure we were safe.
The owner had told us about a nature trail that ran down to the lake, and around the property. So we sprayed our feet with Off to keep the chiggers at bay, and headed down. Partway down the trail, there was a small bench. The view of the lake was obscured from there, but it was still pretty. Feeling something crawling on my leg, my mind immediately remembered that word again, but I knew it was likely a fly or mosquito.
So I reached down, and realized it didn’t feel like either. Too small to be a scorpion, I looked down and found the creature crawling up on the finger I had used to brush it off.
“Good,” I thought. “Only a tick.”
“Uhhh…” I said, being the calm leader of our two person group. “That was a tick.”
We continued down the trail, not exactly thrilled with the last two encounters with nature. As we began to walk along a rock bluff, I caught a strange odor. With the first breath, it smelled like some kind of musty algae or fungus. With the second breath, I knew it wasn’t algae or mold. It was something dead. Still undaunted, we continued, where less than a minute later, I spotted what was causing the delightful scent.
It had been a deer at one point it its cycle. I won’t go any further with that.
So back on the porch outside our room, we removed our shoes, finding another large tick. Showers were definitely in order. Two more large ticks and two small ticks later, we felt safe for the moment. Picking my blue jean shorts off the floor to check them more, another one crawled out onto my hand. So the shorts and my shirt went into the bathtub, where they were soaked in all hot water. That killed another large and small one.
We chose to go into town for the rest of that evening.
The next night was our celebration dinner out. It was at the Crystal Dining Room in the Crescent Hotel downtown. Dinner was excellent. The meals come with soup, salad, appetizer, and dessert. I had the Chicken Cordon Bleu, and Dawn had the Alaskan Salmon. Expensive, but very good.
The next day was two hours of fairly strenous hiking on trails that were being used for the Xterra Triathalon. We had soaked ourselves in Off, but must have sweated most of it off. After the hike, we paddled a canoe around Lake Leatherwood. Sunburned and exhausted, we headed back to the cabin to clean up. There was a nice nap, and later, we went for dinner. We went to a Mexican restaurant on Main Street on the way to downtown. There was an hour wait, so we chose a Tex-Mex place that wasn't neaerly as crowded. Maybe not as good, either.
Sunday was the long drive back home, and back to reality.
As wonderful as vacations are, it's always good to get back home. I'm ready for a good night's sleep.
After I double check for scorpions.
So we got to the room, and after quite a bit of information from the owner, we began to relax from the long drive. I laid down on the bed, playing with…I mean, adjusting the bed. It was a Sleep Number bed, and I needed to know what my comfort level was. After ten minutes or so, I got up, and went and sat in the chair.
Dawn looks over at the bed from the other chair where she’s sitting, and notices there is a creature on the bed.
It went something like:
“That’s a weird kind of bug. OH MY GOSH, IT’S A SCORPION!!”
It’s a shame I can’t convey the shivers in her voice, or the mild convulsions on display.
I thought at first, she was mistaken. What would a scorpion be doing on our bed in Eureka Springs? Looking closer, I could see it was a scorpion, alright. About an inch and a half long, it was happily wandering down the edge of the bed, no doubt wondering why I had left the bed for the chair.
I wish I would have thought quickly enough to get its picture to share. But I was still trying to figure out what he was doing there. And, if I didn’t kill it quickly enough, my wife would decide to leave right then for the Holiday Inn. So I knocked it to the floor, and killed it with my hiking boot. It was only after I returned from the bathroom with a wad of toilet paper sufficient to keep me from accidentally sticking myself with the stinger, that I really noticed the color of the carpet.
It was green, and I had noticed that. But it also had plenty of flecks of brown and grey. So it took me a moment to find the dead creature. I say dead because I started to worry that it hadn’t really been dead, but had somehow scampered off under the bed. If that were the case, I would have been joining my wife at the Holiday Inn. I soon found it, a foot or more from where I remember it being, but it was dead.
“I can’t believe it was just crawling around on the bed,” Dawn said. “You were just laying there.”
“Yes, dear,” I thought, “that occurred to me, too.”
Of course, she was pretty unnerved. I played the part of the valiant husband/scorpion killer, and showed her how unworried I was by telling her that there couldn’t be another scorpion in the room. She herself said she had never seen one, so it was unlikely there would be two in the same room. In the back of my mind, however, one word kept rolling through my head.
Infestation.
Great. So now, I would only walk through the room in my shoes, looking with the brightest flashlight I have ever had, checking every square inch of the floor for any more intruders. I would be more than happy to step on any that might be there, but not barefooted.
I’ve been stung by fire ants, a yellow jacket, a red wasp, and even a hornet. I’ve never been stung by a scorpion thankfully.
After a thorough search of the room, including behind the headboard, in the chair cushions, behind the television, heater, chairs, chest, plant and magazine rack, I felt pretty sure we were safe.
The owner had told us about a nature trail that ran down to the lake, and around the property. So we sprayed our feet with Off to keep the chiggers at bay, and headed down. Partway down the trail, there was a small bench. The view of the lake was obscured from there, but it was still pretty. Feeling something crawling on my leg, my mind immediately remembered that word again, but I knew it was likely a fly or mosquito.
So I reached down, and realized it didn’t feel like either. Too small to be a scorpion, I looked down and found the creature crawling up on the finger I had used to brush it off.
“Good,” I thought. “Only a tick.”
“Uhhh…” I said, being the calm leader of our two person group. “That was a tick.”
We continued down the trail, not exactly thrilled with the last two encounters with nature. As we began to walk along a rock bluff, I caught a strange odor. With the first breath, it smelled like some kind of musty algae or fungus. With the second breath, I knew it wasn’t algae or mold. It was something dead. Still undaunted, we continued, where less than a minute later, I spotted what was causing the delightful scent.
It had been a deer at one point it its cycle. I won’t go any further with that.
So back on the porch outside our room, we removed our shoes, finding another large tick. Showers were definitely in order. Two more large ticks and two small ticks later, we felt safe for the moment. Picking my blue jean shorts off the floor to check them more, another one crawled out onto my hand. So the shorts and my shirt went into the bathtub, where they were soaked in all hot water. That killed another large and small one.
We chose to go into town for the rest of that evening.
The next night was our celebration dinner out. It was at the Crystal Dining Room in the Crescent Hotel downtown. Dinner was excellent. The meals come with soup, salad, appetizer, and dessert. I had the Chicken Cordon Bleu, and Dawn had the Alaskan Salmon. Expensive, but very good.
The next day was two hours of fairly strenous hiking on trails that were being used for the Xterra Triathalon. We had soaked ourselves in Off, but must have sweated most of it off. After the hike, we paddled a canoe around Lake Leatherwood. Sunburned and exhausted, we headed back to the cabin to clean up. There was a nice nap, and later, we went for dinner. We went to a Mexican restaurant on Main Street on the way to downtown. There was an hour wait, so we chose a Tex-Mex place that wasn't neaerly as crowded. Maybe not as good, either.
Sunday was the long drive back home, and back to reality.
As wonderful as vacations are, it's always good to get back home. I'm ready for a good night's sleep.
After I double check for scorpions.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
AT&T U-Verse
I hate Charter.
Being a Christian, hate is a term I really shouldn't use. But somehow, "I strongly dislike Charter" just didn't seem to capture the depth.
Two and a half years ago, we moved from Grapevine to North Richland Hills, TX. In Grapevine, I had Verizon FIOS. It was awesome. Fiber directly to the house, incredible speed, and in the two years I had that service, I only had them out twice. Neither time took more than ten or fifteen minutes to fix, and I was back up and running.
North Richland Hills isn't part of Verizon's coverage area. Bummer. In fact, when we moved in, the only company that offered anything other than dish was Charter. I only thought I hated Charter. Finally, one day I saw that AT&T offered U-Verse in our area. I couldn't change over quick enough. And, on top of everything else, they gave us $250 back. It couldn't get any better than that, right?
Wrong.
AT&T came and got everything hooked up, and ten minutes after they left, I turned the TV to one of the music channels. I went to the bedroom, and turned on the same channel, and they both froze. Odd. So I changed one to another channel, and they both came back on.
"Why can't you watch the same channel in two rooms at the same time?" I wondered.
In less than a week, I had my answer. It had nothing to do with what channel it was on. I was all about the fact that U-Verse has an issue with the picture freezing.
"The Cowboys a first down at the Eagle's forty with just over four minutes left."
"And the Eagles cap a successful drive with the extra point, and it's Eagles 21, the Cowboys 14 at the two minute warning."
"What happened?!?"
Getting involved in a Criminal Minds episode, and just at the most exciting part, the picture freezes. It comes back on and they are in their plane, ending the show.
I only thought I hated Charter. Turns out, I was only aggravated at them.
I hate AT&T.
So I call their service department, and, first off, you have to go through one of those stupid auto attendants.
Recording: "I see you are calling from 214-555-1212. Is this the number on your U-Verse account."
Me: "No."
Recording: "Okay. Please give me the phone number associated with your U-Verse account, or you can say, 'I don't have one'."
Me: "I don't have one."
Recording: "Okay. Give me your U-Verse account number, your primary social security number, or the first thirty-seven prime numbers in descending order in Ancient Aramaic."
Me: "I...what?"
Recording: "I'm sorry, that was not a valid response. Please wait while I locate a thirteen year old who is sitting in their living room playing X-box to assist you. Don't worry that they are only thirteen. They won't be able to help you anyway. And thank you for being a valued AT&T customer."
Me:"Great, now I need another cell phone."
So the first guy who came out replaced the connections in the attic, and the connections outside.
"That should fix the problem," he said as he was leaving.
It worked flawlessly for almost an hour.
So we lived with it for a couple more weeks before I called back to go through the same frustrating experience.
The second guy told me he changed out all the connections outside, and in the attic, and my problem should be solved.
I don't think he appreciated the fine art of scoffing I was trying to entertain him with.
"The last guy who came out said he changed out all that stuff," I explained.
"Hmm."
This guy gave me his card, and said the problem should be fixed.
"Call me if it happens again."
So ten minutes later, I dialed his number. He came back out. He said he needed to check the box in the neighbor's yard, and then down the street.
I never saw him again. But it was okay for a week or so.
The third guy who came out replaced the modem. It froze before he ever left. So he also drilled another hole in my wall, and ran a new cable from the outside box to the modem inside.
"Well, that will fix your issue," he assured me.
He also was underimpressed with my scoffing ability, which was becoming quite polished by then.
It froze an hour after he was gone. I called back, and got his voicemail. (surprise). I never heard back.
The next time I mustered the strength to call, I told them in no uncertain terms that the next time I called, I would be telling them their equipment was sitting in a box on my curb, and if they wanted it, they should come get it. That was several months ago.
The problem seemed better in the last couple of months. It only froze once every other day or so, and usually only for a minute or two. Until this last week.
It was out all day, but started working when I got home and reset the modem. Saturday, I reset the modem five times before calling them. They set up a tech to come out between 4 and 9. No one ever showed up, and no one ever called me to tell me they weren't going to show up. They are supposed to be out today between 12 and 4. I'm sure he will replace the connections in the attic, and outside, and tell us it should be fixed.
The next time I take a day off, I'm switching back to Charter. Have I mentioned how much I love Charter?
Compared to AT&T, at least.
Being a Christian, hate is a term I really shouldn't use. But somehow, "I strongly dislike Charter" just didn't seem to capture the depth.
Two and a half years ago, we moved from Grapevine to North Richland Hills, TX. In Grapevine, I had Verizon FIOS. It was awesome. Fiber directly to the house, incredible speed, and in the two years I had that service, I only had them out twice. Neither time took more than ten or fifteen minutes to fix, and I was back up and running.
North Richland Hills isn't part of Verizon's coverage area. Bummer. In fact, when we moved in, the only company that offered anything other than dish was Charter. I only thought I hated Charter. Finally, one day I saw that AT&T offered U-Verse in our area. I couldn't change over quick enough. And, on top of everything else, they gave us $250 back. It couldn't get any better than that, right?
Wrong.
AT&T came and got everything hooked up, and ten minutes after they left, I turned the TV to one of the music channels. I went to the bedroom, and turned on the same channel, and they both froze. Odd. So I changed one to another channel, and they both came back on.
"Why can't you watch the same channel in two rooms at the same time?" I wondered.
In less than a week, I had my answer. It had nothing to do with what channel it was on. I was all about the fact that U-Verse has an issue with the picture freezing.
"The Cowboys a first down at the Eagle's forty with just over four minutes left."
"And the Eagles cap a successful drive with the extra point, and it's Eagles 21, the Cowboys 14 at the two minute warning."
"What happened?!?"
Getting involved in a Criminal Minds episode, and just at the most exciting part, the picture freezes. It comes back on and they are in their plane, ending the show.
I only thought I hated Charter. Turns out, I was only aggravated at them.
I hate AT&T.
So I call their service department, and, first off, you have to go through one of those stupid auto attendants.
Recording: "I see you are calling from 214-555-1212. Is this the number on your U-Verse account."
Me: "No."
Recording: "Okay. Please give me the phone number associated with your U-Verse account, or you can say, 'I don't have one'."
Me: "I don't have one."
Recording: "Okay. Give me your U-Verse account number, your primary social security number, or the first thirty-seven prime numbers in descending order in Ancient Aramaic."
Me: "I...what?"
Recording: "I'm sorry, that was not a valid response. Please wait while I locate a thirteen year old who is sitting in their living room playing X-box to assist you. Don't worry that they are only thirteen. They won't be able to help you anyway. And thank you for being a valued AT&T customer."
Me:
So the first guy who came out replaced the connections in the attic, and the connections outside.
"That should fix the problem," he said as he was leaving.
It worked flawlessly for almost an hour.
So we lived with it for a couple more weeks before I called back to go through the same frustrating experience.
The second guy told me he changed out all the connections outside, and in the attic, and my problem should be solved.
I don't think he appreciated the fine art of scoffing I was trying to entertain him with.
"The last guy who came out said he changed out all that stuff," I explained.
"Hmm."
This guy gave me his card, and said the problem should be fixed.
"Call me if it happens again."
So ten minutes later, I dialed his number. He came back out. He said he needed to check the box in the neighbor's yard, and then down the street.
I never saw him again. But it was okay for a week or so.
The third guy who came out replaced the modem. It froze before he ever left. So he also drilled another hole in my wall, and ran a new cable from the outside box to the modem inside.
"Well, that will fix your issue," he assured me.
He also was underimpressed with my scoffing ability, which was becoming quite polished by then.
It froze an hour after he was gone. I called back, and got his voicemail. (surprise). I never heard back.
The next time I mustered the strength to call, I told them in no uncertain terms that the next time I called, I would be telling them their equipment was sitting in a box on my curb, and if they wanted it, they should come get it. That was several months ago.
The problem seemed better in the last couple of months. It only froze once every other day or so, and usually only for a minute or two. Until this last week.
It was out all day, but started working when I got home and reset the modem. Saturday, I reset the modem five times before calling them. They set up a tech to come out between 4 and 9. No one ever showed up, and no one ever called me to tell me they weren't going to show up. They are supposed to be out today between 12 and 4. I'm sure he will replace the connections in the attic, and outside, and tell us it should be fixed.
The next time I take a day off, I'm switching back to Charter. Have I mentioned how much I love Charter?
Compared to AT&T, at least.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Pate Musueum
So I heard this week that the Pate Museum is closing, and auctioning off cars this weekend.
For those of you who aren't aware, Pate Museum was opened in the late sixties, showing off a collection of cars owned by A.M. Pate (Aggie). He began collecting in the sixties, and continued through most of the eighties, until his death in '88. The Pate Museum was located near Cresson, southwest of Fort Worth on 377.
One of my favorite things to do as a kid was to go to Pate Museum. Back then, the cars weren't the main draw for me. It was the collection of planes, tanks, cannons and other war relics outside. Now that I'm older, I have a deeper appreciation for the cars on display. Inside the buildings, along with the cars, was a small lunar module. That was always pretty cool to look at.
The best thing about Pate (that I probably didn't even know as a kid), is that it was free.
I took my son there once, when he was about eight. Passing along the tradition my father shared with me wasn't quite the hit I had hoped it would be. His favorite thing to do was the periscope. It is inside the lobby, and you can look through it to see the outside. We weren't allowed to climb on or in the tank anymore, which I'm sure he would have enjoyed. The trampoline that my brother and I used to love to play on was also gone.
One of the blogs I read about the museum closing stated that the cars had become dirty, and some were starting to rust. That's unfortunate. But maybe the auctioned cars will find good homes with people who will keep them in the pristine condition I remember them being in.
Pate Museum holds a special place in the our hearts. Thank you Mr. Pate, for allowing so many of us to create so many wonderful memories.
For those of you who aren't aware, Pate Museum was opened in the late sixties, showing off a collection of cars owned by A.M. Pate (Aggie). He began collecting in the sixties, and continued through most of the eighties, until his death in '88. The Pate Museum was located near Cresson, southwest of Fort Worth on 377.
One of my favorite things to do as a kid was to go to Pate Museum. Back then, the cars weren't the main draw for me. It was the collection of planes, tanks, cannons and other war relics outside. Now that I'm older, I have a deeper appreciation for the cars on display. Inside the buildings, along with the cars, was a small lunar module. That was always pretty cool to look at.
The best thing about Pate (that I probably didn't even know as a kid), is that it was free.
I took my son there once, when he was about eight. Passing along the tradition my father shared with me wasn't quite the hit I had hoped it would be. His favorite thing to do was the periscope. It is inside the lobby, and you can look through it to see the outside. We weren't allowed to climb on or in the tank anymore, which I'm sure he would have enjoyed. The trampoline that my brother and I used to love to play on was also gone.
One of the blogs I read about the museum closing stated that the cars had become dirty, and some were starting to rust. That's unfortunate. But maybe the auctioned cars will find good homes with people who will keep them in the pristine condition I remember them being in.
Pate Museum holds a special place in the our hearts. Thank you Mr. Pate, for allowing so many of us to create so many wonderful memories.
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