Dusty road construction at almost every intersection.

A line of orange cones so long, you can’t see the end.

Everywhere, there’s snarled-up traffic, horns blowing, and bumper-to-bumper traffic.

Enough.

Finding serenity is difficult under these circumstances, but don’t give up. There are places to get away from the endless noise.

Two state parks are within an hours’ drive – Brazos Bend and Stephen F. Austin, some of the best in the park system.

Calm Seabourne Creek Park in Rosenberg is a nice step away from civilization. Neighborhood parks are good choices, but often they’re filled to the brim with families.

Here in Fort Bend County, there’s quite a few spots of calm, peace and quiet. Best of all, the ones mentioned here are free to the public.

The Memorial Prayer Garden behind the First Baptist Church in Richmond is a small but powerful place to rejuvenate.

The Zen-style Garden not only offers a shaded sanctuary with a giant oak tree in the center, but The Labrinth allows you to focus on your thoughts as you walk the small maze.

The garden is next to a private school, and the sounds of children laughing and playing will put a smile on your face. Add the gentle sounds of wind chimes, and you’ll be as relaxed as the butterflies that visit.

Richmond’s history dates to before the mid-1800s and much has changed. Despite all the construction, there are sites that allow visitors to take a step away from the hustle of city living.

Check out Wessendorff Park in Richmond. Located next to the historic Richmond Police building, the park invites visitors to sit for a spell next to a bubbly fountain and enjoy the blooming flowers.

A small bridge guides you to the historic Morton Cemetery where shade and pathways allow you to relax your mind.

You might be inclined to roll up your sleeves at the community vegetable garden where volunteers grow food to add to the pantry at Helping Hands. The garden is located next to the police station.

Over in Rosenberg, Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church has a stunning patio area. A beautifully designed stone fountain honors Our Lady of Guadalupe and welcomes the weary to the elegant church.

Flowers not only add fragrance and beauty, but they also attract butterflies. Time will cease to exist when you visit and watch the clouds roll past.

The Stations of the Cross garden at Holy Rosary Catholic Church in Rosenberg is open to people of all denominations. Even if the “Way of the Cross” isn’t in your faith’s doctrine, you can still walk the quiet pathways and marvel at the beautiful stonework.

There are benches for visitors to sit and relax, and the garden has no walls or fences. In the middle of this growing city there’s a place to step away from the chaos.

Instead of looking for a fast-food lunch or coffee from a franchise, all these parks are located near home-town businesses.

Visit the small stores in downtown Richmond and Rosenberg, sit a spell on the benches that dot these areas and meet the friendly business owners.

You might find reconnecting with people and supporting local businesses is the final step you need to truly rejuvenate.

Finding peace and quiet in a growing, busy county might seem impossible, but these refreshing oases are within minutes of your front door.

All that’s asked is respect when you visit, both for the surroundings and others who are looking for the same thing you are – tranquility.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.      

Easter Sunday is this weekend, and the holiday always takes me down memory lane.

I remember shopping for Easter clothes with my mom when I was a little girl.

The floral Easter dress always included white gloves and frilly white ankle socks.

The best part of getting ready was picking out an Easter hat. I never liked the rubber band under my chin to hold the hat on as it cut into my neck.

By the time I was old enough to make sure the hat didn’t blow away, I no longer cared about Easter hats.

We usually attended Easter Sunday Mass because we were busy dyeing Easter eggs the night before. The must-have item for coloring Easter eggs was the square Paas Easter Egg kit.

Inside were tablets in different colors – red, yellow, blue and green are the shades I remember. We’d drop each tablet into a coffee cup and then measure out the vinegar, something our pantry never seemed to keep on hand.

Luckily there were neighbors who bailed us out.

Also in the kit were wire egg holders, and we fought like cats and dogs to use those. There was also a white wax crayon to write our names on before dyeing the eggs.

The kit included stickers – which we fought over – and paper stands representing the Easter Bunny, baby chicks and other cute animals. These stands held our dyed eggs and, like with everything else in the kit, we fought over those.

My mom would go behind us and “marbleize” the eggs with cooking oil, and we groaned and complained every year that she’d ruined our mottled and uneven dye jobs.

The next morning, after the Easter Bunny did his job, we’d enjoy an Easter Egg Hunt. I don’t remember any of us getting food poisoning because the eggs were all over the house and yard for hours, just waiting for us to find them.

For the next week, it was chicken or tuna salad sandwiches, chock full of chopped hard-boiled eggs.

I kept the tradition of dyeing Easter eggs alive with my boys from when they were in elementary school until they were in high school, but I think I enjoyed the ritual more than they did.

Our grandchildren dye their eggs at home with their parents and siblings, and we love seeing pictures and videos. We don’t intrude because I know how precious those memories with children are.

One year, I tried dyeing eggs by myself, but that was more depressing than not dyeing eggs at all. So, I stopped buying two dozen eggs and a new Paas dye kit. I substituted eating a bag of Cadbury eggs to soothe my missing those long-gone evenings.

These days, we host an annual Easter egg hunt for the grandchildren at the house with Uncle Nick and Aunt Ingrid taking on the responsibility of hiding eggs.

The kiddos stand at the back door, not peeking, anxiously awaiting the signal to hit the back yard and find the eggs. The patio’s off limits to the older ones as that’s where Nick and Ingrid hide the eggs for the toddlers.

Then the race begins, candies are found, traded, hoarded and enjoyed the rest of the day.

For those fortunate enough to still dye and hide Easter eggs with your children, savor and enjoy every minute of chaos.

The years fly by faster than the Easter Bunny hops through your yard the night before Easter.

May your holiday be holy and happy!

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.    

The sky was a bright blue without a cloud in the sky. The wind was calm and the humidity low. Perfect weather for Southerners but for our granddaughter, the day was perfect for an airplane ride.

Kylie’s dream is to pursue a career in aviation, specifically a commercial airline pilot. We’ve been researching post-high-school directions, but the path isn’t clear cut.

If she wanted to become a teacher, she’d major in education classes. The accounting and biology curriculums follow a tried-and-true path.

But to become a pilot, there’s lots of choices. She could take private lessons outside of college. She could follow an aviation degree in a college that offers her the chance to get her license at the same time she gets her degree, or she could join the military.

I was talking to a friend about Kylie’s confusing choices, and he suggested we talk to our neighbor, Tim. He has his pilot’s license and loves flying. Tim followed a different path to get his pilot’s license, so I thought it would be a good idea to pick his brain.

Tim was overly generous with his path to the skies and offered to take Kylie on a plane ride while they talked about career options.

We originally planned to make the flight over the weekend, but heavy rains and strong wind gusts made us cancel. We shot for this week, and the weather cooperated on all fronts. Tim gave us the directions to the hanger, and we drove past green fields and farmhouses, anxious to start the flight.

Tim’s plane is blue and white and the perfect size for three people. They asked if I wanted to go, but I declined, wanting Kylie to concentrate on the plane and the views, not a grandmother in the back seat.

Kylie climbed in, and I saw Tim explaining the instrument panel. They put on their headphones, and Tim cranked up the propeller. They taxied down the runway and waited for the okay. Once they had that go-ahead, the plane accelerated and lifted off.

I had tears in my eyes as I watched that plane carry my granddaughter into the sky, toward her dreams, toward a goal she’s set for herself. A half hour later, they were back, and Kylie was all smiles.

She helped Tim get the plane in the hanger and thanks were given all around. Kylie couldn’t stop talking about how much fun she had on the plane ride, how beautiful the views were from up there, and how peaceful she felt up in the sky.

Kylie knows what direction she wants to take her life. She said so many people she knows in high school don’t have a clue about their future or what career path they want to follow.

For some, money’s an obstacle. For others, it’s indecision and a lack of confidence in their ability to live on their own and make a huge life decision while they’re still in their teens. Kylie has no such lack of confidence.

Not only is this certainty inside a confident young lady, but perhaps seeing how big this world is from high up, she’s even more convinced there’s no limit to the heights she can accomplish.

We can’t thank Tim enough for sharing his time, skills and airplane with a young person who has big dreams.

I have no doubt Kylie will be at the helm of her own airplane one day, her ascent into the skies made possible by all the people who supported her along the way.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

 

On a visit to see my mom, I noticed her television was set to one of two channels. One showed old sitcoms like “M.A.S.H.” and “Everybody Loves Raymond.” The other was “The Game Show” channel.

I asked why those two and she said she didn’t have to commit a lot of time or effort to the plot and each segment only lasted a half hour.

She had a point.

In old sitcoms, the main person on the show gets in trouble, pranks ensue to try and get out of trouble, and everything wraps up in 30 minutes, give or take a few commercials for prescription drugs or life insurance.

As luck would have it, she’d chosen “The Game Channel” for the day’s viewing. As old game shows played in the background, I couldn’t help but listen. A question popped up on “Jeopardy.”

“Gekko!” I yelled out.

My mom was surprised. We were talking about what to eat for lunch, and she must’ve been surprised thinking I’d like a lizard for dinner.

I pointed to the television and told her it was the answer to the question on “Jeopardy.” Because she had the program on as background noise, she didn’t pay attention to the questions on the show.

“Baskin and Robbins!” I yelled out.

This was the correct answer to the next question. After that, Mom took a nap, and I proceeded to play the game along with the contestants.

“Jeopardy” is also a board game we used to play as a family on Sunday afternoons. We’d divide up into teams with all of us avoiding choosing our dad – he was a ruthless cheat.

We found the heaviest thing we could bang on the table to signal we knew the answer and sat down to play. The games were loud and cutthroat, and our sisters-in-law were terrified to take on the competitive Hebert siblings.

The grandkids would play happily in the other rooms and occasionally come in to wonder what all the yelling was about. That’s because we argued about almost every answer, our competitive nature getting the best of us.

“Family Feud” was another favorite, and we always thought we’d be winners if we could get on the show. The lightning round at the end was one we always enjoyed.

Lord help the teammate who couldn’t think of an answer fast enough. For years, we’d remind them of their failure to answer quickly in the lightning round.

Our love of games started when we were kids. We’d watch game shows in the summer when it was too hot to go outside. “The Hollywood Squares” was a favorite, and the off-color answers usually went over our heads.

One show that required brain power was “Password.” We Heberts enjoyed the board game, and most of the time was spent trying to find ways to give physical clues, even though that was against the rules. We still argued but not like the lively yelling matches from “Jeopardy.”

Today’s game shows are mostly glitz. There’s a lot of flashing lights and skinny models in tight dresses. Contestants don’t require brain power. They need luck, a love of the camera, and the ability to clap loudly for themselves.

Watching some of the current shows, I longed for the days when brain power was required to win. We didn’t have smart phones or the internet when we played those board games on Sunday afternoons.

We had our memories, teamwork and a healthy dose of friendly competition.

These days, we live too far away from each other to sit down for an afternoon board game.

But if we did, I’ll bet our level of competitiveness would be just as ruthless as it was all those years ago.

Gosh I miss those days.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.