Most folks think of Colorado spring break season as time on the ski slopes, and in the past our family thought the same. Now that a large part of our family lives in the mountains, by the time spring comes we are ready to shed our jackets and soak up some sunshine. During Bo’s first spring break, we were rewarded with sunny skies and temperatures in the 70’s. Never fear, there was still plenty of snow at Winter Park and Breckenridge for those who want it, but we wanted Bo’s first spring break to be something different, even educational. We heard much from the neighbors about Denver’s zoo, so off we went on a (mostly) African adventure.

So many cool birds in the African section, but the most fascinating part for Hanna and Mom was the python the birds would love to feast on. Denver Zoo enthusiasts are working fast and furious on a new bird habitat, as well as a local bear hangout, and aquarium for seals and such. We did miss seeing the local bears up close but I have a feeling bear sightings are in our future whether we’re ready or not:) Hopefully we’ll be ready with a boat horn to scare them off, or at least some bear spray:)

As you can see Bo wasn’t particularly thrilled with the rhinos. Guess I haven’t read him stories of rhinos yet, so he couldn’t relate; plus they had a very pungent smell, even from a safe distance.

Elephants are a different matter, as Bo and Hanna both have heard the sounds elephants make many times, and much about how useful their trunks are. Hanna can even imitate the elephant trunk by making one with her hand in front of her nose while she bobs her head up and down. Pretty cute if I do say so myself.

Camels were another very familiar African animal. Their habitat was very close so the kiddos could get an up close and personal view of them. When our boys were young, the camel trainer came to Beaumont once a year with a kid basket on his camel’s back. For a token payment (before inflation:) the boys could ride the camel to their hearts content. Truth is, these days there are too many liability issues for that much fun.

I would love to share the biologically accurate names for many of the African animals, but I have no idea what the half-zebra half-horse was called. The African Horse was easy to identify, as was the giraffe and water buffalo. The rhino in his up close and personal home reminded me of the time I took the boys to the Houston Zoo many years ago. The rhino there had a gastronomical attack while we were a little too close. He swished his tail and got us all with a bit of mother nature’s fertilizer. I asked Matt if he remembered, fortunately he didn’t or the zoo would not have been a good memory.

The best adventure came last as we were able to view a magnificent tiger interact with his trainer. He appeared very happy to see her and did various tricks for his treats. What a special job this lady has. Sometimes as I think back over my career choices, I’m a bit jealous of those who made such fun career decisions. Oh well, at least I can enjoy the fruits of their labors through my grand angels’ eyes.

Galveston is the quintessential spring break option for all who love the sun and surf as their nature-bound choice. There are so many things to see, things to do, places to go. So much to do, so little time:) For the first time since the pandemic, the grand angels returned, with a few first cousins in tow, to rekindle the joy de vivre. This Mamou was beyond overjoyed to share the island with the grands once again. First stop, Moody Gardens with its Aquarium Pyramid and Rainforest. The girls chose the Aquarium as their favorite, with the wonderous underground tunnel where sealife of all varieties float above their heads. As amazing as Moody’s is, there’s still so much more to see at Mamou’s home turf, Diamond Beach.

Even tho the temperatures hovered in the low 70’s (pretty cold to Mamou:) the girls couldn’t wait to jump in. To be young again! After much leaping from the hot tub for warmth, into the chilly pool, up to the condo balcony for a lunch break we went. I don’t know if my mom was right with her insistence for a one-hour break after eating before entering the water again. These parents used that argument, as my mom did, to take a much needed break. Seahorse Grill across the street provided an excellent to-go lunch so Mamou did not have to cook:)

As wonderful as the amenities of Diamond Beach are, the girls were ready for some good ole Gulf of Mexico salt water and shell gathering after our break. The weather was amazing, with a nice salty breeze keeping the afternoon cool for a long afternoon walk. Of course they were coated with sand and ready for a warm up in the hot tub as we headed back.

After a nice hot tub soak, the girls felt they were ready for a river float. As all Texans know, floating the river is best when it involves a warm dry upper body with a bit of the lower part hanging in the frigid water from an inner tube. Mamou was impressed with these strong determined little ones, leaping from the 100+ degree hot tub into the 60 degree river. I’m not sure I was ever that young:)

The float trip was the perfect ending to a perfect spring break. Mamou’s prayer continues to plead for more pandemic-free vacations in our family’s future. Having sheltered in place for two years made the Diamond Beach reunion so special. Hope all my friends enjoyed this spring break as well.

Colorado is just made for White Christmas memories. It’s polar opposite the Diamond Beach Christmas’s of the past, overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. It does take some getting used to, and heavy clothing is required, unlike bathing suits of the past:) The dry crisp air, especially under sunny skies, is actually refreshing, and there is so much to do. Fair warning: just about everything requires some strenuous physical exercise. The good news is, most activities are outdoors, for those who worry about the continuing COVID contagion. Of course, skiing was in the cards for us, and Granby Ski School turned out to be so much more than we expected. The warmth and friendliness of the instructors were beyond anything we expected. We later found out the Bode Miller (Olympic gold medal Alpine Skier) is setting up a special ski school there next year, to offer both academic and athletic instruction at its finest.

However, the first day the Austin Wilcox’s arrived we headed down to the Clear Creek Trail of Golden. This allowed the Texans time to get acclimatized to the altitude. The edges of the creek are frozen this time of year, but when the sun is out you barely need a light jacket, so everyone was comfortable. Laura, the family photographer, provided many of the high-quality shots you see. It was difficult to imagine that a few short months ago folks were floating down Clear Creek in an inner tube. The young ones enjoyed the “exercise stops” along the way, and showed some gymnastic skill that surprised their Mamou (that’s me:) They certainly didn’t get it from my side of the family, though.

To get our sea legs back on the slopes, we took the kids to Grand Lake for a locally famous sledding hill. Even the youngest, Bo and Hanna, enjoyed this experience. We had no idea how very special Grand Lake is. It’s a quaint picture-postcard downtown worthy of a Hallmark movie. We honestly didn’t want to leave, but needed to rest for the skiing ahead.

After some wonderful snow-filled time in the Rockies, we headed back to Golden for the usual Christmas experiences. While Galveston does a wonderful Christmas Light Festival for evening walking, evenings in Golden are a bit chilly for the faint-hearted. Never fear, American ingenuity has provided a very comfortable solution. There was an amazing drive-through light display, to be seen from the comfort of your heated car.

While all these adventures were amazing memories that I will never forget, the best is always family time sharing the joy that is Christmas. With a fire crackling nearby, we shared the gifts that we hoped would be enjoyed. Just listening to the little ones giggle over their prizes made the best memories of all. Maybe next year Mamou will have a cabin near Bode’s new ski school, Good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise!

Home of my youth, Bolivar Peninsula holds the best childhood memories anyone could ask for. Coming from a large Irish-Catholic family of five children, vacation trips to foreign lands were out of the question. Wisely, our parents decided early on that we needed a family vacation home for summers to keep the kids entertained and out of our parent’s hair. Dad had a passion for fishing and Mom had a passion for the beach in general. Endless days in the surf, coming in to wolf down lunch, and head back out after a brief nap, were a child’s best dream come true. Mom would sit on the balcony with a boat horn and watch. If we dared to wander past the second sandbar, she would blast that horn of warning to let us know if we didn’t come back in, grounded for the day!

We acquired a seine that was small enough for us to pull through the waves on the calmest days, catching mostly minnows. We would dig a mote around our sandcastle and fill it with the little fish until the water drained out and they obviously needed to go back into the gulf. There was crabbing in the surf and always shell hunts. As we matured, Dad brought down an old Willis jeep painted gold with a gold and white striped top (like they did in Hawaii:). Since I was the oldest, I took the youngers on long beach rides in search of new adventures. Sometimes when there was a special event across the water, we would take the ferry over to Galveston, feeding the birds along the way. The seagulls were raised knowing that it was ok to take bread from the hands of a human (they still do it today).

The entire area near our old family home has since been wiped out by hurricanes. I have retired and now reside on the seawall in Galveston, hopefully safe from the storms. Unexpectedly I received a call recently from my cousin Dottie announcing her purchase of a bayside Bolivar beach house. I couldn’t wait to visit. So many happy childhood memories flooded back. As soon as Dottie and her sister Nancy showed up on Bolivar, I was on the next ferry over to visit this fabulous new house. It was in immaculate condition, with gorgeous cabinetry and crown moldings, to say nothing of five bedrooms and four baths! After a wonderful tour of the casa, our cousin Tommy stopped by with his hunting companion for an unexpected but very pleasant visit. He was on the way back from LaBelle after a few days of duck hunting. A great time was had by all. Looking forward to many more, now that I have family so close!

It took a major pandemic to cancel a decades-old Galveston tradition like Dickens on The Strand last year. This Christmas treat has been enjoyed by Americans from all over the country in past years, and now it’s back better than ever! Many locals (and some out-of-towners too:) enjoy dressing in Charles Dickens period costume (19th century). Some of Texas’ best bands come in their costumes to parade along The Strand and provide much entertainment from a bygone era. My personal favorite is the Houston Highlanders, a Scottish bagpipe ensemble, kilts and all:) Do they really wear nothing under those kilts, as has been rumored?

Lucky for me, my nephew Joey and his girlfriend Kim A gifted me with this event for my 49th? birthday:) Kim lived in a condo on The Strand for seven years and was a great tour guide for the events. I’ve missed so much in the past and never knew it. This time we followed the events from Post Office to 25th Street. All this time I had been missing the Clydesdales and so many horse-drawn carriages, to say nothing of 19th-century British police force. Never again, I’m already planning for Kim and Joey to give me this amazing present (at least until I hit 59:)

The grand finale included a costume contest for those brave enough to parade around in their finest. While most were in Victorian costumes, there was a separate category for the new “Steampunk” category. The Steampunk chihuahua was my hands-down favorite. Some locals had gone to an extreme amount of trouble and expense, and I’m so glad they did. Next year I’m thinking “Steampunk Fairy”? I hope there’s a costume that fits the bill on amazon:)

After five hours of cruising the streets of downtown Galveston, we headed back to the condo a weary but very happy group. It was a special time for us as a family, that I hope to repeat for many years to come. Merry Christmas everyone!

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And so it began on Thursday, with a procession of trailers and bikes; over the causeway they came in droves. They filled the island for four days with vibrating, heart-pounding noise and brilliant displays of every color. The seawall was lined on both sides with every variety of motorcycle, sling shot, and even a few golf carts (appropriately painted and dressed out of course:) The weather was beyond gorgeous, in the 60’s during the day. The hotels were filled to capacity, as were the restaurants. The local shop owners welcomed them with open arms. Truth be known, many of the bikers are actually professionals during the week. The crowd was respectful, even at night; although The Strand was elbow-to-elbow with street dancing the order of the day.

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They did bring with them a flea market with a plethora of t-shirts and leather jackets. Interestingly enough, they also brought their own lawyers, just in case an insured vehicle didn’t give way to the bike and injury resulted. There were, of course, the latest in clothing choices with the every-popular “Let’s Go Brandon” shirts:) There was even a “Bike Blessing” available on Bike Bless Rd (an impromptu lane in front of the Galvez). Considering the accidents that are common on this Bike Fest weekend, a blessing wasn’t a bad idea.

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It’s difficult to say whether the Galvez owner was particularly pleased with the bikers’ choice, but the hotel was definitely a favorite venue. Considering the price of a room there since the renovation, I’m guessing the bikers’ dollars were welcome in spite of the noise. While many locals chose to leave the island for this weekend, I personally enjoyed every minute of the excitement.

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At the end of the weekend, as I look back over all the machinery available for viewing, there were a few that standout in my mind. The sling shots (3-wheel bikes encompassed in a fiberglass body with constant motion lighting) and the lone purple bike were my personal favorites. Admittedly, I will miss the excitement; however at 2 a.m. I may not miss the wakening by the Harley’s “potato-potato” mating call. It was the best of times; it was the worst of times:)

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Halloween 2021 was a festival like none seen in Golden in many years. The release from an indoor pandemic was evident on the streets beginning the Saturday before the big day. Store owners up and down main street stood ready to pass out goodies to all passers-by. Kids and adults alike dressed to the nines to show their best moves in a street dance enjoyed by old and young. We saw the mashed potatoe, the jerk, moonwalks, and stuff kids do today that I can’t even begin to name. Ika and Matt came out in Viking attire, honoring Ika’s Swedish ancestry. Bo’s name is actually over a thousand years old, hailing back to the Viking days. Ika said there are thousand-year-old gravesites that bear his name, proving this an ancient moniker.

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Traditionally the Wilcox’s open the garage to the neighbors with an old-fashioned Texas Bar-B-Que, that takes Matt about 12 hours to prepare. The kids came for the chips and candy; the adults for wine, camaraderie, and sandwiches. It was a chilly night, with the first snow of the season due Monday. The adults wore warm and fuzzy this year, like Cookie Mom with Elmo, Count Dracula, and the quintessential snowboarder. The garage heater was so warm, many opted for driveway sitting while watching the kiddos enjoy the riding toys. Some of my favorite costumes were the gentleman pirate escorting his princess sister, the butterfly, the fireman, PJ Mask, and the creative Harry Potter. Homemade creative costumes are always the favorite, but for a Colorado winter I’m thinking full-on fuzzy is best.

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Matt had a new epoxy floor put in and added a flat-screen tv for the football game that nobody watched. Great background noise, though:) A new bar-b-que pit is in the works for next year, promising even better brisket than ever before. Ika promises an even more inventive family costume theme. I’m getting a warm fuzzy costume, myself. Can’t wait!

Colorado is a beautiful state in all seasons, however there is nothing to compare with the spectacular colors of fall in the Rocky Mountain State. The mountains become a rainbow of greens, reds, and golds in autumn, for a few short months before all is blanketed in pristine white. In the past I’ve always thought of aspens as the state tree, with their magnificent gold colors blanketing the rockies. Quite frankly, I’ve never given maple trees a passing thought, as they are not to be found in Galveston or surrounding areas. When Matt and Ika chose their home in Golden, as luck would have it, an autumn blaze maple tree decorated their front yard as an added bonus to an already beautiful house. Bo took to “his” tree right away. In the morning when he wakes, he goes to his bay window to check on his tree before beginning his day. It wasn’t long before the family swing was hung on it’s low-lying branch. After a long hard day at school, his favorite “wind down” activity is time in his swing as he gazes up through the ever changing branches of this magnificent maple.

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As you can see, Bo’s Maple changes through the seasons, from emerald green, to gold, to rust, to brilliant beet red, and finally to snow white. There are other more famous trees of Colorado, especially the aspens with their spectacular golds, but none provide the amazing maple syrup we all love on our waffles:) As we enter the western edge of the rockies, golden strips of aspens flow down the sides of the mountains in a breathtaking display. It takes the term “road trip” to an entirely new level.

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There are so many things to love about this amazing state, the hiking, biking, ice skating, and skiing to name a few. It’s no surprise that Colorado has been named the “healthiest state” of all. Considering all the choices one can make in getting back to nature, none offer more than this ever changing and always spectacular mountain home. Now it’s a waiting game for the “first snow” of the season. Can’t wait!

Somehow I’ve managed to live a great number of years without experiencing the scattering of a loved one’s ashes. Maybe a function of my longevity, it has finally become a reality for my family as my Dad and his wife Carol passed earlier this year. Their wish was to be sprinkled together over the Gulf of Mexico as it laps the shores of Bolivar Peninsula. This is where they fell in love, playing in the waves as if children again, and naming the stars and constellations above late into the night from their beach house balcony. The children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren gathered here to fulfill their final wish. Amazingly, there stood a rental house where the old family beach house once was. My sister Paige, her Bugg and Katie rented it and prepared for the crowd with fresh fruit to share from the balcony as we took in the beauty of a very calm Gulf. The beach was pristine as the summer crowds had gone home for the winter.

When everyone had arrived, we began the procession to the beach front. It was then apparent the magnificent crowd that our family had become with three generations standing in unison to honor the wishes of our parents. I’m sure it was a proud moment for Dad and Carol as they smiled down on us from a blue bird sky. My sisters spoke beautifully of the loving relationship Dad and Carol had for over 40 years. Their words were so meaningful and moving that I could find nothing to add. As you can imagine, it’s not often I am at a loss for words. The youngest, the great grandchildren, were very happy to be on the beach with their cousins; and pretty much missed the solemnity of the occasion as they fought over who was to hold the new puppy. It was as it should be, an occasion to remember the joy Dad and Carol brought to our lives.

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The older generation was more solemn as we remembered the parents we would always miss. So as the north wind blew, to help scatter the ashes, those of us who wished to get wet entered the water and easily spread the ashes with the wind to our backs. White rose petals were scattered to follow the ashes out with the tide. It was such an emotionally significant moment as the ashes became part of the ocean, back to nature. “From ashes to ashes and dust to dust”. As it should be.

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