I’m a patterns guy. Not like Albus Dumbledore looking at knitting patterns. Patterns of behavior and action. It is really one of my greatest strengths when dealing with people. And not the least because I recognize them in myself.

This week I took a phone call from a recruiter. I have been receiving calls for the past eighteen months from a particular company but I have been uninterested in discussing the opportunity. I attended a professional golf tournament last week with my former boss, and he asked me why I wasn’t talking to them. When I asked how he knew I wasn’t talking to them, he let me know that he was the one who gave them my name and contact information. The guy that is retiring there is one of Ken’s old friends. Ken thought I should at least listen to them.

I really love the company I work for, and I enjoy what I do every day. But here’s the thing — when these guys started calling me, Peggy and I were firmly (and comfortably) entrenched in Houston. I wasn’t about to uproot our entire existence to move to New Orleans.

Then, two things happened. My company asked me to move to Austin, so we got un-trenched. We sold the house, downsized, made ourselves infinitely more mobile.

And then I found out the company calling me is not located in New Orleans. They’re in Baton Rouge. World of difference.

The day I told Peggy I was going to take the call, she was preparing to go to Dallas to visit her mother. We had a brief conversation during which I shared with her the two points above and that Ken had told them to call me. We discussed a couple of pros and cons, then Peggy got up and said, “I’m going to start packing.”

I said, “I haven’t even talked to them yet!” She meant for her trip to see her mother. She has been laughing all week about that.

I had the conversation. I’m interested. It might be as much interested in going back to Baton Rouge, but I wouldn’t do that if the opportunity is not right. They’re interested. If I go down and interview they are going to offer me the job. That isn’t arrogance, I just know what I bring to the table, and I know what they need.

Peggy asked me this morning if I wanted to drive over to Marble Falls and go to the Blue Bonnet Café. This is where the patterns thing comes in. When she asks to go for a drive somewhere it is because she wants an uninterrupted opportunity to talk. We’ve been doing it since we were kids and didn’t want to discuss things in front of her parents. After Mike was born we would drive around until he fell asleep and then discuss whatever important thing we needed to discuss. I knew that was what she wanted to do, and I was very excited to hear her perspective.

We had a great drive and a great conversation. We had a great lunch and saw some great wildflowers. And when we got home I let the recruiter know that I would take the interview.

It will be a couple of weeks because they have a road trip planned with their largest producers. That is exciting to me because some of the people on the trip with them already know me. If they bring up my name they will hear good things. Then I’ll meet with them when they get back home.

First, though, I have to call my son and make sure he is OK with it before we even begin to have the conversation — he may not want Mom and Dad moving into his town. I will at least give him the option of telling us “No” before the conversation goes any further.

Then we just have to figure out what we really want to do…

The bluebonnet has been the state flower of Texas since 1901. In 1934, the Texas Department of Transportation adopted the rule that highway rights-of-way not be mowed during the flowering season for wildflowers, including the bluebonnet. As years passed, with the support of Lady Bird Johnson, certain areas along Texas highways were seeded with Texas wildflowers. A springtime tradition was born.

Today, you can find tourists cheating death on a daily basis from March to May, stopping their cars on crowded roadways and trying to capture the elusive perfect bluebonnet photograph. It is quite amazing to see people of apparently normal intelligence risking their lives in this way.

Each Easter in Texas, families dress up their children and go in search of the best fields of bluebonnets to take family photos. And, of course, to trample the beautiful flowers.

If you have never seen the wildflowers in spring it truly is worth a trip. Each year the highway department puts out a pamphlet of where the best wildflower viewing is to be found. Not just bluebonnets, but Indian paintbrushes in beautiful red, yellow coreopsis (also called tickseed — they look like a black-eyed Susan except the middle is closer to purple), and the fabulous Indian blankets (also called firewheel) grow all over the state during the spring. It can be a steadily changing color palate as the varying wildflowers bloom at slightly different times in the spring, and it is breathtaking.

All of that is background information. I have complained (in a good-natured fashion) for many years about people creating a road hazard by pulling to an abrupt stop to walk in the flowers, to take pictures of the flowers, their children sitting in the flowers, their dogs peeing in the flowers, whatever.

Now that we live in central Texas where the wildflowers are the most prolific, my wife has been sending pictures to me of my dog in the bluebonnets. I get tickled each time I receive one of the text messages with the pictures, but it is very hard to explain to someone without sounding like a grumpy old man. Peggy knows my schedule and waits to send the pictures when she is fairly certain I am in some serious meeting. I find it delightful.

And my dog really does look wonderful in the bluebonnets. Don’t you agree?

The girl don’t look too bad, either…