Private Property in Texas

Private property rights probably won’t make the news as a hot presidential election issue, but just wait ‘til the Texas governor’s race heats up.
In 2005, our Supreme Court took a pot shot at redefining eminent domain with the help of Kelo v. the City of New London.
Some folks claim that eminent domain is the friend of progress. Good point. We have roads, sewers, utility right-of-ways, you name it, all because of eminent domain.
Howev er, it is important to keep in mind that eminent domain is also the enemy of private property.
Kelo made it clear that the Supreme Court would tolerate redefining eminent domain to include allowing local governments to force private citizens to sell their land, in order to re-sell it to private businessmen who could develop the property. The idea is that the community will benefit with more tax revenue.
Make no mistake; this is a brand new reason for local governments to use eminent domain.
Given the current push coming out of Austin for a trans-Texas highway, don’t look for our state government to be too eager to limit the use of eminent domain.
If you are not generating enough tax dollars on your private property, folks, you have reason to be shaking in your cowboy boots.
Exactly which Amendment to the US Constitution defines eminent domain?
If you guessed Amendment #5, you are close.
“No person shall… be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.”
But, it turns out that we can thank the Brits, not the Bill of Rights, for eminent domain.
It comes to us out of English common law. It kinda makes sense in the context of English lords taking their opportunity to restrict the power of the English monarch, putting him under rather than above the law, as in the Magna Carta, signed in 1215.
When you add the context of the War of Independence and you read the words of the patriots in Amendment #5, you get the idea that they were looking for ways to restrict, not enable, governments, too.
Their commitment was to have citizen leaders provide guidance for self-government; apparently they intended for leaders, who would face the accountability of elections, to make decisions that reflected the concerns of local folks.
Personally, I like it best when the City Council or the County Commissioners are making these eminent domain decisions, because I can call ‘em up and chew ‘em out if I think they goofed. Me and a few thousand other citizens.
Local leaders have phone numbers in the local phone book. That’s what I call accountability.
Yep, folks, the issue of eminent domain is back to bite us, right here in Texas.
Our state government is currently staking out the right-of-way for a super-highway right across the farms and ranches of unhappy Texans.
And get this; it’s going to be a toll way. Somebody stands to make the big bucks and you can bet it’s not the farmers.
Of course, on this issue and so many others, I always rejoice when I see my friends in the newspaper business, local reporters, doing their job by asking tough questions.
As well as the Fifth Amendment, this might be a good time to reference Alexis de Tocqueville, the French guy who wrote Democracy in America and is famous for the concept of Tyranny of the Majority.
“When I see that the right and means of absolute command are conferred on any power whatever, be it called a people or a king, an aristocracy or a democracy, a monarchy or a republic, I say there is the germ of tyranny….”
Just a thought.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, welcomes comments, particularly different viewpoints, at cathykrafve@gmail.com or http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Wedding Chair Blues

Okay, I’ll confess; I was so preoccupied that I forgot my one wedding task, to stand up when the bride came down the aisle with her father. My friends tell me they were chortling and trying not to stand up before me.
Actually, I was checking out the hem of her dress which I had painstakingly put in myself one stitch at a time.
Surviving a wedding takes fortitude and it doesn’t hurt to have a sense of humor either.
Good advice is welcome, too, I discovered.
We waved goodbye to the happy couple and I immediately started processing my emotions by way of my keyboard.
As the last rose petal fell over their departure, I turned to DeeDee Turnage for her best advice about weddings to share in this column.
DeeDee encourages bewildered mothers of the bride every weekend at Elwood Gardens, her farm and home which also serves as a destination wedding site right here in East Texas, just south of Frankston.
What, according to DeeDee, makes a wedding special?
Surprisingly, her answer didn’t involve any of the unique, personal touches that are the stuff of her daily life.
“Bringing two families together,” she responded.
So, what does she recommend?
-Choose a venue that is relaxed. It can be traditional, but should not be intimidating.
-Set aside time to get the two families together. Pull out baby pictures. Share memories.
-Incorporate the groom’s family into the planning process. Invite the mother of the groom to go along when choosing the bridal gown or the flowers.
-Remember that dads tend to feel left out of the process. Look for ways to include them. Give them a special job or write them a note.
-Do not let the moms take on too much work, either with the wedding or the rehearsal dinner. Encourage them to delegate.
My thanks to DeeDee for her wisdom, and her friendship.
I think it helps if you look for ways to laugh together. Don’t take the wedding or yourself too seriously.
On that note, I have one more confession; I was so transfixed when my husband did his part, saying in a loud clear voice “her mother and I” that I forgot to do my job.
I forgot to sit back down.
Yes, the crowd stood throughout almost the entire wedding! Too bad we wasted money renting cute little white wedding chairs.
Fortunately, the bride and groom wanted a short service.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives in beautiful East Texas and is in denial about any future weddings for her other children. She can be reached at CaeKrafve2@aol.com or http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Sacred Hammocks

“No, you can not cut the strings. Those hammocks are sacred!”
Is it my problem that they failed to tie a proper knot while standing on each other’s shoulders?
Those particular hammocks are almost as old as I am and they survived the three Primer children, proving that they are tough indeed.
Now, let me just say that if you had grown up in our neighborhood in the 1960s you would know that the Primer children did not do things in the conventional way. This is particularly true with hammocks. Or anything else that can be hung like a trapeze at a death-defying height in a tree.
For example, as small children we climbed as high as we could, then, standing on our tiptoes, reached further still, hanging dress-up clothes over the limbs, swinging into the rigging like monkeys, with only buttons and button-holes between us and premature death.
Poor mom.
One solution to the problem of having monkeys for children was to buy each of us a hammock.
There is an art to hammock hanging, especially if you are motivated by height. By hanging the first hammock, then standing on it to hang the second hammock we began a process that could give my mom a whole afternoon free at the campsite as long as she managed to suppress any feelings of pure panic.
You can imagine where the third hammock was hung. I’ll give you a hint; we only needed two tall trees to hang all three hammocks.
It is worth noting that if you have a sibling to untie and hand you the first hammock, you can stand on the highest hammock and hang the first one still higher. This last part is the only feature of the plan I purposely failed to share with my own children. I figure part of growing up is figuring out your own mischief.
Any hammocks that survived our childhood deserve special treatment.
So, when my son and his friend wanted to cut those same hammocks out of the trees on our recent campout, naturally I said no.
They struggled with the dilemma until they were willing to ask for my help.
I hung the first hammock on the highest spot I could reach.
The truth is, my monkey-skills have faded like my youth, so the boys took over from there.
One boy balanced like a tight-rope walker until he untied the high ropes, while the other boy spotted him.
The moral of this story is that the boys felt great about their success and the hammocks survived another generation. Oh yeah, and the boys learned to tie a proper knot.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives in Texas with her family and loves exploring the fabulous camping around our great state. Comments and especially lists, are welcome at cathykrafve@gmail.com or http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com

Momentary Flashes of Brilliance

It is tough being surrounded by brilliance.
How would you like to be the child that could be counted on to forget your purse at the restaurant?
Or the wife whose motto is, “Nice people always find my stuff.”
Occasionally, I get a glimpse of what it would be like to have a memory.
I had one of those momentarily brilliant flashes recently.
“Is there anything I can bring home for you?” I asked my married daughter over the phone as I was leaving her old apartment where her sister still lives.
“Ooh. Could you take my bike to your house?”
Please understand, the bike had been there so long that there were vines growing over the tires until it is in danger of becoming a bicycle-shaped topiary. Very artistic.
Usually it is me with the artistic habit of forgetting things indefinitely.
My real friends volunteer helpful information all the time. Important information, like today is the day your son needs to turn in his science project. Or tomorrow is the deadline for your article.
I smiled as I loaded the rusty bike into the back end of my SUV. I felt gratified.
You know the feeling?
It must be the same as making the hoop from midcourt in the final seconds of the game. Whoosh!
Or being the first in the class to shout out the right answer to a math problem. Any math problem. Even if you are an adult visiting your child’s 5th grade math class, not that I am admitting that I have ever done that.
There are advantages to being forgetful, for instance, my children have really low expectations.
Some of my greatest moments in their young lives are the days when we arrived at school and realized that they were all wearing shoes at the same time on each and every foot. Not only that, but they all had socks on each foot, too. And mom was wearing shoes, too.
I always gave myself bonus points if I just got there with each child.
“Where are you mom?” asked an irritated voice calling from the school at 3:15 the other day.
“Isn’t this the day you have a private music lesson with your teacher?” I responded sweetly.
“Oh, yeah. I better go. Bye.”
And mom scores!
I consider it my ministry to make other people feel good about themselves.
So, for instance, if you feel like a failure when it comes to keeping your house clean, you are invited to my house. I have all kinds of original housekeeping solutions.
I would write them down in a list for you, but that would require me to remember what they are. Or even what we were talking about.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and educates her children in Texas. Comments are welcome at cathykrafve@gmail.com.

A Miracle Every Time

Our daughter occupied our garage last summer with a very big painting. Parents will make any sacrifice for their kids, right? So my car spent six dirty weeks out under the oak trees around our house. I tried to be nice about it.
The painting is a whopping 8 feet by 28 feet. We never saw the whole painting at once because she couldn’t unroll it all in our garage at one time. She had to paint it in sections.
I’m one of those stage moms who can’t wait to tell you about their kids’ latest accomplishment. I know lots of dads who have the same problem.
Let’s just chalk it up to hormones; after all, I carried the child around in my womb for nine months and I really never got over the fact. I don’t know what excuse the dads have.
My friend gave birth last week and it was a miracle. A new baby, adopted or home-grown, is a miracle every single time.
Every mom knows that it is the lifetime of small daily miracles that add up.
I walked in on one such miracle last Monday night.
After years of painting, Anna got to have her first one-man exhibit. The gallery walls were filled with her paintings in every hue of the rainbow.
Even though our home is wall-papered with realistic paintings she has created over the years of recognizable humans and animals, this recent body of work, as they say in art circles, was contemporary and non-representational which is an academic way of saying it looks like any four-year-old could do it.
Of course, since we watched the process take place in our garage all summer, I know that it actually takes skill to pull together the correct complementary colors, establish depth and tone, then, delineate the whole canvas using illustrative techniques.
This is a good place to mention how thankful our family is to the teachers at TJC and UNT who have poured their efforts into getting her to this point.
The painting from our garage filled up a huge wall in the gallery. Gigantic.
And astonishing. I can’t even describe it.
Anyway, that was not the miracle; even though I do think it reflects well on the Creator that He can make people who can then turn around and create such amazing art.
Nor is it the miracle that someone I gave birth to turned out to be so talented, although that is kind of surprising when you think about it.
Or even that she has the discipline, dedication, and vision to focus so much creative energy.
Nope, those are the everyday miracles I’ve lived with so long as a mom that I’ve adjusted to the brilliance they cast over our little world.
At our house we say “Every human is Handcrafted.”
Anna purposely used the exhibit to intertwine her relationships together. She got so much joy out of bringing together the people she loves and introducing them to each other.
The Handcrafted quality of life was the miracle that jumped off the walls and communicated itself to me again as I stood there surrounded by her beautiful paintings and her even more precious friends, meeting many of them, both the paintings and the humans, for the first time.
For me the real miracle is learning from each of my children one at a time that each and every person is fearfully and wonderfully made by an Artist who is pleased with His work. That includes being pleased with the way He made me, and somehow I find myself surprised by that fact most of all.
That’s the small daily miracle of last Monday night. That and the fact that the collection of all his creatures together, like a beautiful exhibit of His Handiwork, gives us insight into His creativity and greatness.
Oh yeah, and by the way, if you know anyone with a really big, empty wall, I sure would like to keep my car in the garage next summer.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives in Texas where the scenery and the people give her plenty of opportunity to admire God’s handiwork.