Big doings in the neighborhood

I thought of Mister Rogers tonight: “It’s a lovely day in the neighborhood.” I am fortunate to live in a close-knit neighborhood with a lot of community pride. In fact, I I live across from the community elementary school. And tonight that provided one of those special neighborhood moments, though I only heard it distantly.

At Lily B. Clayton Elementary, known locally as “Sweet Lily B.,” there’s a tradition of “clapping out” the graduating fifth graders. The students parade down a long hall as families, friends, and faculty line the hall and rhythmically clap. It’s a moment to bring tears to your eyes—I know because I was there for the clapping out of Jacob and also, earlier, of my Canadian daughter Sue’s son, Hunter.

This year there would be no clapping-out ceremony due to social distancing, quarantining, whatever you call it. But school administrators arranged for a clap-out on the street in front of the building tonight. We were in the back yard with socially distanced happy hour guests, but we heard and enjoyed the hoopla. Police cars and fire department vehicles led the parade with horns and sirens blaring someone played "Pomp and Cirumstance" on a car radio, and kids hung out of cars, waving at the people on the street. A perfect show of neighborhood joy for these young kids who have accomplished so much and yet not been able to celebrate as they expected.. Jordan snuck out to the front porch and took the picture above.

We had a company happy hour  with two couples who are longtime friends of mine. Jordan worried and worked a lot to arrange it so seven people could sit with appropriate distancing. In spite of rain threats during the day, it was a lovely evening, perfect temperature, and the garden looked pretty. Everyone brought their own drinks, glasses, snacks, and even napkins. I wonder if this is the entertaining of the future. Guess it is, at least for the foreseeable future. But we were certainly glad to see these friends, and there was much lively discussion, even if it did seem to focus on true crime stories such as the Cullen Davis mansion murders. Not sure how we got on such a topic.

I had prepped dinner tonight, knowing we wouldn’t have a lot of cooking time. Jordan went to Central Market this morning, intending to go inside first thing when it opened instead of using curbside pick-up as we usually do. Seemed to me a perfect time for us to have a seafood supper, so she came home with a pound of bay scallops, plus shrimp for Jacob—he adores shrimp but we all doubted he would try scallops.

Note my fancy new fish spatula

I made scallops Provenҫal—tossed the scallops with salt, pepper, and flour and sautéed them in butter; added chopped shallots, garlic, and parsley to the skillet and cooked a bit longer. Then added white wine and cooked gently until the sauce just thickened a bit. Christian, who apparently wasn’t sure he liked scallops, said he wanted his well done. I explained that well done scallops were rubbery, and besides, they would all be done in one skillet—they were after all, the small bay scallops, and it wasn’t like putting steaks on the grill and assigning each to a person. Apparently, I got it right, because he said he now realized he likes them. Such fun enlarging his taste—he joked that I had made a salmon eater out of him, and now a scallop eater   Hmm, maybe I'll go for mushrooms next.

Another pleasant evening. We all agreed that the days go by quickly, even without scheduled things to do, without lunches and dinners out, without haircuts and doctor appointments and shopping trips and travel. It’s strange to be so comfortable in such difficult times, although at least for me personal comfort doesn’t keep me from worrying about the state of the country. I pray for our nation daily, because I think we are in perilous times.

Reading your own works, writing about food, and a new taste

One of those days where I didn’t get out of my pajamas until late afternoon. I get so much done on such days! Today I finished proofing the last of my mysteries to post to several ebook platforms, wrote a guest blog, planned an antipasto platter for guests.

I don’t know if it’s a good sign or not but proofing the final chapters of Murder at the Tremont House I found myself tearing up this morning. Those chapters contain one of the most suspenseful climactic scenes I’ve written—I’m not long on suspense, which is probably why I write mostly cozies. But this one involves superficial injuries to a child and a car chase, with the protagonist forced to drive, probably to her own death. (No spoilers there.) And there I was, dabbing at my eyes with a Kleenex. The novel also has an epilogue. I know that, like prologues, they’re out of fashion now, but I think readers want to know how the loose ends tied up. I do when I read mysteries.

Right after lunch I wrote a guest post for a blog on learning to cook again—neat way of calling attention to my three foodie books—Cooking My Way Through Life with Kids and Books, Texas is Chili Country, and Extraordinary Texas Chefs. With the move to the cottage and my confinement to a walker or wheelchair, my cooking really had to change. The cottage has no stove or oven—just my super-duper hot plate on which at first I burned everything. And I blame the wheelchair for the fact that I’m the messiest cook in five counties. But I am gradually getting better. And as I feel better, my interest in food increases. If I hadn’t had an established career as a writer, I’d have become a chef somewhere along the way. As it is, writing about food gives me an outlet for my interest in all things culinary.

And I had a new culinary experience today, a new taste: shark. My neighbor had a sharkfest last night, and Jordan brought some to me. There were fried pieces, chunks cooked in milk, and some grilled plus ceviche. I particularly liked the grilled. Tasted like chicken with a bit of sweetness to it. Nice firm texture.

Tonight we’ll go to Macaluso’s just down the street—dinner tonight supports our local Lily B. Clayton elementary school. Sweet Lily B. Sad this is Jacob’s last year there.

A joyful day

After a couple of woe-filled days, I’ve had a joyful day today. I truly live in a wonderful neighborhood, and one of the things that makes it so wonderful is the neighborhood spirit for Lily B. Clayton Elementary School, right across from my front porch. This morning they had their annual Walkathon—both a fund-raiser for PTO activities and a good exercise to prove that the kids, even little ones, can walk a mile. Christian walked with Jacob, as he has every year. Subie and Phil came from a few blocks away, and we had a watch party—complete with coffee and dogs. Neighbor Margaret Johnson came to get Sophie for a walk, but Sophie was so excited by all the turmoil, I was terrified she’d pull Margaret down. They had a good walk but Margaret confessed her arm was tired when she got back.

The high school band played, police cars blocked the streets, and tons of neighbors turned out to watch. Band players jived (is that the right word?), danced and kicked, and the atmosphere was truly festive. As Phil said, “I never realized so many children went to that school.” They kept coming and kept coming, but it was a joyful, exciting occasion. Each child was to wear a red Lily B. T-shirt. Jacob buried his under a green Baylor sweatshirt because he was cold—that child who’s always too hot. It was a lovely way to start the day. Subie and Phil left after the walkers had gotten underway, but I told them later the return was much less tightly packed, more loosely organized as kids seemed to scatter everywhere. Still, order came out of chaos, and I assume they spent the rest of the day being studious

At noon, my brother John and sister-in-law Cindy came to get me and we went to Carshon’s Deli where we met my niece Jenn and her youngest daughter, Maddie. Talk about a flirty-girty, beautiful charmer! I was absolutely entranced by that three-year-old child. Loved my lunch (half a tongue sandwich) and the company was even better. A real treat. John walked into my house announcing he wanted to see the killer dog—so he and Cindy waited until I got Luke calmed down and then came out on the porch. They did it just right—ignored him, though he got to the point he wanted to jump on them and came around to visit several times. Also sniffed their dogs’ smell on them.

Tonight Jordan is preparing for the garage sale of the century—in my front yard because there’s so much more traffic than in their neighborhood. I cannot begin to tell you what my house looks like except that I pray it will all be gone tomorrow. Cindy walked in and said, “Oh my God!” Christian has gone home so he can be back here at 5:30 a.m. I am hoping to sleep through much of this. Tonight I fixed them hamburger patties in a butter/shallot/red wine/beef broth/cognac sauce—so good but next time I’ll double the sauce. Baked potatoes and salad—great meal, even if the service wasn’t elegant, given the circumstances. A part of me hates to put a sour cream container on the table!

Now, Luke and I are hiding in my office while she prices things. Going to bed very early tonight and hiding all morning tomorrow. Life is good.

Have you done your homework yet?

Jacob told me on Tuesday that he had a project due on Friday. He handed me a tiny piece of paper on which he'd written Jacob Burton/Tiger Woods. "I have to do a budget, and I chose Tiger Woods because he's a great golfer." Okay. "Do you know what a budget is?" "No." So I tried to explain, but it's kind of hard to do in Tiger Woods' terms--where do you start? $10 million? More? Less? I figured he'd take it home to his parents.
Next day, he was frantic. "Where's that piece of paper?" He looked through the loose papers on my desk--they are many--and found it but then last night it was still on my desk. Meanwhile late last night he told his folks he had a project due Friday but they had no inkling about it. I talked, separately, to two concerned, even frantic, parents today. All ended well. I could tell Jacob didn't understand what he was talking about, but he did say that the class would go to the library tomorrow and find information about their subjects. All well and good--no project due. What he missed was that they'd work on the project Friday.
When he comes to my house in the afternoon, we spend a minimum of an hour and twenty minutes on homework--sometimes we finish most of it, sometimes we barely make a dent. He goes home to do his reading and reading comprehension (the latter is a problem) and finish whatever we didn't get done. Then it's dinner, bath and bed. If it's a baseball day, the schedule gets all out of whack.
I finally confessed to Jordan something that's been bothering me for a long time: I don't remember doing homework with my kids. "You didn't," she said, "We didn't bring any home. We did it all in the classroom. When we got out of school, we played with friends. Then it was dinner, bath, and bed."
Whew! I wasn't a bad parent. But where's Jacob's play time? If he wants to play with a friend after school any day but Friday, I have to say no. We have homework to do.
I wonder what all this is doing for him. Today we were adding two two-figure sums. He did it the way he's taught in school--you add the "tens" and then the extra numbers. To check, I scribbled it on a piece of paper the way I've always done it--and came out with a figure ten higher than his. He insisted he was right; when he finally redid it, he said, "You're right."
I'm not sure the Texas gubernatorial debate about how much we spend on each child really addresses this problem. Yes, we ought to pay teachers better and fund our schools better, but will that fix the curriculum? I need teacher opinions.
Meanwhile I'm struggling through third grade and Jacob's sometimes struggling through his childhood, which should be a happy time.

Saying goodbye is hard

My longtime friend Barbara and her daughter, Amy, left to return to Mississippi this morning but not before we gave them one last taste of Fort Worth spirit. Today was the annual Lily B. Clayton Walkathon, a fund-raiser for the school, complete with the Paschal High School Marching Band. It made for a colorful and lively spectacle right outside my front door, and I convinced my guests that they would be captive until after it got under way. So we parked ourselves on the front porch, sent Amy to the curb to take pictures, and watched the fun. Kids walking by and the little girl next door were dancing to the beat of the music, and everyone was smiling and happy. Our focus of course was on getting a picture of Jacob--Amy and I were both looking for his dad's plaid shirt, but this was the first year Jacob walked without a parent (Dad had too much to do at work). The result was pictures in which Jacob is barely recognizable, but here's one of him from behind.

Barbara and I mostly sat on the porch, two old ladies watching the children with great delight, though she did venture down one time--with her dog who was so anxious to be part of the fun--to point out to Amy that she'd just missed Jacob.

They left shortly after the parade headed off for the inner neighborhood and got out in plenty of time before I heard to band signifying the parade's return to the school.
It was hard to say goodbye after such a wonderful visit, but they promise to come back soon--maybe in the spring--and Barbara and I are talking about traveling together. I am so lucky to have such a close bond with a friend from high school. We have so much in common--I have four children, she has five, and we both are blessed with fine children who are a close family unit. As the years have passed, our values and our sense of humor seem to have grown in the same direction. I don't know when I had such a good time as these last few days.
I spent the rest of the day piddling at work things at my desk and napping. Not sure why but I was really sleepy. Jacob had a friend stop and play after school and before I knew it, it was time to take him to his mom's office. I came home, had a second nap, and woke up just in time to talk to Jamie who as at the airport ready to fly to Hong Kong. He knows I don't like him to go that far without my saying "Be careful" and all those other things mothers say, and tonight he said he was a bit offended that I hadn't called. Nice visit with him, while he simultaneously dealt with a Railhead BBQ person in the terminal and found to his dismay they didn't have ribs.
Had a good dinner with Kathie--lobster at Lucille's--and home. And sleepy again.