My World is Changing

For years, the Texas Book Festival, traditionally held in late October, was a highlight of my professional year. Melinda and I developed a tradition--we left about ten Friday for Austin, stopped someplace interesting for lunch, picked up her good friend (and now mine) KK in Austin, and went to Z Tejas for happy hour. Then we set up the booth--she swears I never did, but I know I did. Sometimes my Megan joined us for a drink; other times she just picked me up. I divided the weekend, spending one long day being professional at the festival--manning our booth, visiting with friends, greeting authors, all those things I thought were my responsibility as director of TCU Press. The other day, usually Sunday, I spent with Megan, Brandon, and my two Austin grandsons. On Monday, Melinda and I had breakfast with our beloved designer, Barbara Whitehead, and then headed home.
For several years, we had lunch at a Christian commune near Elm Mott, Texas. The food was marvelous, and we enjoyed the gift shop and a couple of times toured the various workshops--weaving, woodworking, pottery, etc. But then a scandal about the place and child abuse erupted, and we never went back. Last year, we lunched at a lovely bistro in Waco (no, that's not an oxymoron). This year, Melinda, who wrote a book on Texas wineries, wanted to stop at the Rising Star Winery in Salado. Enjoyed wine and a cheese and fruit platter, but we were hungry by the time we got to Z Tejas and split a spinach/mushroom quesadilla.
Megan and I meant to go to the festival Saturday but I made lunch plans with old friends, and she was expecting a crowd for supper and to watch the TCU/UT game. One of the friends I had lunch with had spent the morning at festival presentations and was looking forward to going back for the afternoon. But the programs--panels and readings, etc.--never drew me much. I liked mingling with the crowds, talking this book and that to potential buyers, visiting with colleagues.
Megan and I went to the festival Sunday. She was offended because she saw a huge display of books for $5 and under and decided it was too commercial. I walked through several tents, saw nothing of interest and not the one booth I was looking for. Finally we ran into friends and figured out where TCU Press and the A&M Consortium were. Went there--but few of the people I wanted to see were there. And during all my wanderings, I saw no familiar faces, nobody I could hug and say "Gosh, haven't seen you in a while. How are you? What are you writing." It just wasn't the same world. After forty-five minutes, I told Megan I was done, and as we walked away I said, "I don't need to come back next year." Oh, I'll ride to Austin with Melinda and visit my family, but I don't need the festival.
Maybe it's that all my friends, like me, are aging, and they don't feel the festival is as important. Maybe it's that younger people are manning the booths and filling the role I used to fill. But it was no longer my world.
It's okay. I'm happy in my world of mysteries--and family and friends.

A stripper pole, white anchovies and bowling

My two Austin grandsons, with their younger cousin

Grandpa  "D" is to the right

Trying to show the size and style of this party bus that amazed me

 

That title of this blog pretty much sums up the great weekend I just had in Austin. Went down Friday--my annual trip that used to be for the Texas Book Festival but now is to see my oldest daughter, Megan, and her family--two of my grandsons, one of whom turned seven the day before I got there.
I knew Megan's husband's mother had rented a van, but I was unprepared for a party bus, complete with stripper pole, disco system, black leather banquette seats, black window shades (we pushed them up) and more drink holders than I every imagined. She said when she called they told her about the stripper pole and disco system, and she in turn told them we'd have kids and was that alright? They said sure because they have kids birthday parties in these vans. A riotous time! The bus took us to pick up Meg's brother-n-law and his family and then to Vespaio, probably my favorite restaurant in Austin. I had foods I love--white anchovies, lamb carpaccio, and a marrow bone. Then it was off to a bowling alley, where I was very much spectator. Finally on the way home, Megan, Brandon and their oldest son (nine) were dancing in the aisles and singing loudly to country/western music. An evening like I never expected.
When I had lunch the next day with longtime friends and described the bus, the guy said, at mention of the stripper pole, that something must have been lacking in his education. Nonetheless we had a great visit, and I was so grateful.
Saturday night, that disastrous game for TCU, found Megan and me the only Frog fans in a sea of orange shirts, but there wasn't much for us to cheer about except a huge pot of Brandon's chili. I gave up and went to bed before the game re-started at eleven, and Megan watched the recorded version the next morning. We both knew how it would work out.
Sunday, we went to the book festival, but I'll save that for another post, and spent most of the day "hanging out." I read and napped, and we had chili for dinner.
This morning Melinda, my colleague from TCU Press who traditionally drives on this annual weekend, and I met our favorite designer and good friend, Barbara Whitehead, for breakfast and then hit the road for home. I am glad to be back home, with Sophie, who seemed very glad to see me, but it was a wonderful weekend that made me appreciate all over again the strong bond I have with my oldest daughter. So blessed.

Oh what a beautiful weekend!

Yes, the play on the song from Oklahoma! is deliberate. I have just had the most wonderful weekend. I went with Melinda, TCU Press production manager and my good friend, to Austin for the Texas Book Festival. My weekend was divided between family and the festival, so tonight's post is about family. Tomorrow I'll talk about the festival.
The last few years Melinda and I have developed a routine for our annual trip to Austin. We leave about ten, stop for lunch--for a couple of years we stopped at West and went into the authentic Czech restaurants in town, but now our destination is Heritage Homestead, a 500-acre community on the Brazos, outside the town of Elm Mott, where people have chosen to return to the earlier days of craftsmanship. They create pottery, wooden objects from furniture to cutting boards and canes, homemade soaps, weavings, all sorts of things. You can visit their gift shop or tour the actual workshops. For us, the destination is the cafe--homemade food, including wonderful bread. The members of the community all dress simply, no make-up for the women, plain hairstyles pulled away from their faces and caught in a chignon or braid. But they are most gracious and welcoming. After lunch, we browse the shop and then head for Austin, where we pick up Melinda's good friend KK (by now my friend too) and head for Z Tejas for happy hour. This year author Marcia Daudistel and her sisters met us, plus Dan, TCU Press director, and my kids, Megan and Brandon. The group split up--Melinda, KK, and Dan went to set up the display, and I went home with Megan and Brandon to greet my grandsons Sawyer (7) and Ford (turned 5 today).
They took me to Vespaio, an upscale Italian restaurant that is my absolute favorite in Austin. The last time I was there they took me to tell me they were expecting Sawyer, so it's been a long time, and I have longed to go back. I feasted on white anchovies and veal-filled ravioli. Brandon ordered the mixed grill and gave me one of his marrow bones--generous beyond belief, but I was grateful. Haven't had marrow in a long time and love it. The boys really behaved well--it was a noisy restaurant--and the evening will remain a remarkable memory.
Halloween birthday party: Sawyer is the one in the tri-cornered hat and red coat--he was a Revolutionary general though in spite of the red coat he insisted he was on the American side. Ford was a ninja turtle but he's barely visible--and don't miss the spider pinata.

I spent some of the next day at the book festival, but Ford's b'day party was in the afternoon--twelve or so kids in costume whacking away at a spider pinata and sitting spellbound for a magician, then eating pizza and the richest chocolate cake I've had in eons.
Sunday was a lazy day--I slept until 8:30! Unheard of! Megan fixed a late breakfast, and then I was off to the festival for a couple of hours. Came back about two, napped, we went to Central Market and then I fixed oven-fried potatoes topped by cod fillets--thanks to Krista Davis for the recipe. I haven't watched a baseball game in forever, but I was being sociable and reading while the grownups watched the game. I got hooked, mostly by the intense concentration of the players and the pressure they were under. Like the rest of the nation I watched Hollander pitch with awe and was sorry they pulled him for the last inning--I can see why, but I also saw him beg the manager to let him stay in. Even so, what a coup for a 25-year-old, so yes now I'm watching again tonight.
Melinda and I usually have breakfast with an old friend on Monday before heading home but Melinda was running late, we got lost, and by the time we got there, she had left. I'm hoping for a Christmas visit. Meantime we had a good breakfast--I ate maybe 2/3 of a baked potato omelet, sinful! And then we were on our way. Home by one o'clock and glad to be here.
But I have a weekend of memories.

Sophie spent the weekend with Jacob and Jordan, and I'm afraid she's spoiled rotten, but they all had a good time. Jordan said to me today, "Sweet baby is a lot of work!" Amen! I have titled the first photo "Spoiled rotten"--Sophie is soon going to be way too big to be a lap dog!

Texas Book Festival and an Austin weekend

We started our trip to Austin with a stop at Heritage Homestead outside Elm Mott (just north of Waco). It's a commune with a wonderful restaurant--almost all the food is grown, baked, etc. on the grounds. I heard an ordinary sandwich--turkey and cheese with mayo--but in their hands it became extraordinary. The grounds are beautiful, and we wandered to the gift shop (hand-crafted items, from weaving and pottery to word-working and a $4900 wooden rocking chair), the pottery shop where no one was working at the moment but we saw more of their ware, the wood shop where we watched them building furniture, all by hand. No electric tools for these folks! We by-passed the weaving shop--Susan Petty was with us, and we'd never have gotten her out of there but she did pick up some brochures on classes, etc. Heritage Homestead is really an amazing place and I urge you to stop there. The picture above doesn't do it credit (the sun was in my eyes and I couldn't see what I was taking) but that's the restaurant building, wonderfully landscaped.
In Austin by 3:30--Melinda and I met her friend (and now mine) K.K. for drinks at Z-Tejas on the patio and relaxed and had a good time. Then I went to Megan's, where we had terrific flank steak and salad for supper. Jamie and his girls arrived shortly thereafter, so I had a good portion of my family together.
Sat. morning everyone left for Sawyer's nine o'clock soccer game--except me. I was reading and drinking tea when Jamie wandered in from the guest apt., so we had a good visit.

Megan and Brandon have recently remodeled their kitchen, opening the house from the front all the way to the back. It's spectacular and makes so much more space for visiting while someone cooks, etc. When the house was empty I took a couple of pictures.

Megan announced a picnic at 11:30 and B. made sandwiches; by 12:15 or so, she decided we'd just go ahead and eat them. Jamie had left to check into a hotel and prepare for his half Ironman. Megan then announced at one that everyone was going to go to the park to throw footballs and kick soccer balls. I begged off, read, had a little wine, and a good nap. Saturday night we ate at Matt's El Rancho, which was fun for me because the Dallas incarnations of that restaurant are in my book, Great Texas Chefs. I particularly liked eating the Bob Armstrong Dip. Ate way too much. This picture is of Uncle Jamie conspiring with his nephews to play tricks on people--they think he's very exciting.

Sunday I went to the Texas Book Festival and, as I have for years, was at the TCU Press both with the A&M consortium, even though I have no official capacity any more. It was good to see so many people I worked with for years and am so fond of. I actually sold two books, both to a good friend from A&M but also went to a program for Smurglets Are Everywhere, a marvelous book of children's poetry written by Alan Birkelbach and illustrated by my neighbor Susan Halbower. Met fellow Guppie Kaye George (a branch of Sisters in Crime for those who are Going to be Published) for lunch--fun to meet someone I've known on the computer for a couple of years. And I sat at the Texas Institute of Letters booth for an hour, though with no interest from the public--still a good chance to visit with my friend Bob Flynn. Went home tired to find Jamie and the girls still at the house--he'd finished his half Ironman in 5 hours 18 minutes, which I thought was really good.

Today we headed home--slowly. Breakfast with my longtime friend Barbara Whitehead, who has designed books for TCU Press for almost 30 years. Then Melinda, K.K., and I went looking for the student who was to drive home with us and got lost in the rolling hills of suburban west Austin. Finally found her, dropped K.K. off at her house, and hit the highway. One stop in Lorena, where there is a block-long quaint old-town section. We were headed for the cheese shop, and I meant to take a picture--the whole place was picturesque. I bought some homemade pimiento cheese and a quarter pound Lorena manchego (delicious!). They have a lunch menu, and we may stop another time.

Home, weary, to be greeted by Jacob who has an earache, but is not settling down to bed. And I'm so sleepy. But what a wonderful weekend.

Weekend memories

This is five-year-old Sawyer riding his bike without training wheels. His parents took him to the track a couple of weeks ago, and Brandon held on to the seat until he got started, then let go--and Sawyer was off! Now he can start himself, and he rides around the quarter-mile track at a fast clip. We spent almost three hours at the middle school track near their home, and there were lots of parents trying to teach their children to ride--Sawyer was by far the youngest and the best (okay, I'm a grandmother, and I'm prejudiced--but he really was!). He fell once that I saw, but got up, righted his bike, aligned the pedals to where it was easiest for him to start and took off again. Brandon was running laps, and Sawyer was trying hard to lap him. Three-year-old Ford has training wheels and does very well but doesn't stay with it like Sawyer does. Our stay at the track was punctuated by Brandon's lengthy trip to the bike shop to get Sawyer's chain repaired and then a trip to the funkiest smoothie place I've ever been with the absolutely best smoothie I've ever hard--it had some kind of berries that were supposed to be anti-aging, but when Megan tasted it she said, "It has lots of raspberries. That's why you like it." And it was. Though I discovered smoothies aren't point-free for Weight Watchers--all that fruit turns to sugar. Upshot of our trip to the track was that I came away with a nice sunburn on my face, neck, and front and back left exposed by my v-neck shirt.

Sunday was a delightfully lazy day--breakfast at 10:30 (bacon and eggs--boy, did I blow the diet), then the track, then home to read and nap. Megan worked hard at fixing Tuscany chicken they'd had when they were in Italy recently--it was good but not quite what she wanted, and we discussed ways to improve on it. Lots of herbs--sage, oregano, rosemary and garlic, great bunches of them. I was sorry this morning that the boys had to go to school, the parents had to go to work, and I had to go home. I see these grandsons less than almost all of the other grandchildren, so it was a delight to spent time with them and get to know them. Ford, when urged to give me hugs, said, "One hug!" but he did give it. Sawyer is much more free with his hugs and the wettest kisses of any grandchild! I promised them we would all be together in Colorado at Christmas.

On the way down to Austin Friday, Melinda and I discovered Heritage Homestead, a community of what I suspect are Mennonites. They have a restaurant, gift shop, pottery shop, grist mill, and who knows what else. From the fresh flowers on the tables, I suspect someplace there's a wonderful garden. The landscape is tree-covered, with brushy-sided creeks, thick vegetation, and log fences. The building are rough-hewn logs, inside and out. And the food--the dining facilities are impeccably clean, and the food is delicious. We stopped there on the way to Austin and liked it so well, we stopped on the way back. It's a bit west of the Elm Mott exit on I-35. What we commented on today was how serene the people looked--the women in the restaurant were modestly dressed (but not the funky dresses of the El Dorado people), with hair pulled back into buns. But they were all so quietly happy and genuinely welcoming. It was just a great place.

I've been reading on the Sisters in Crime blog that if you're submitting to agents it's important to have a blog, but it's also important to make it serious, about writing, no talk about your grandchildren, cooking--all the things that make up my blog. Yes thank you, I am serious about writing, but I am also serious about a lot of other aspects of my life--and grandchildren and cooking rank high on that list. If an editor or agent is going to reject my work on the basis of the content of my blog, so be it.

Still rehashing memories of the Texas Book Festival--people seen, comments heard on the future of publishing, interest shown in various books. It's a great learning experience about books, and with 35,000 people attending, it's a sure sign that the future of the book is secure. Phooey on all those who predict the book as we know it will be obsolete and print-to-order is the future of publishing. I don't believe it. Somehow the festival restores my faith in the career I devoted much of my life too.

Texas Book Festival

Spent all day yesterday at the book festival. Wanted a picture in me of my toque because I was hawking Cooking My Way Through Life, but I didn't sell a one, although some sold when I left the A&M tent to go to programs. But sales of books are the least of the festival. I saw old friends--had a wonderful catch-up visit with Jean Flynn, chatted with James Magnuson and Charles Rodenberger, met Sylvia Dickey-Smith with whom I'd been corresponding about a manuscript. TCU Press sold lots of Elmer Kelton novels--his unexpected death in August accelerated interest, I think, though I'd sure rather have him back in person. We had two featured authors, and Melinda, her friend KK, and I went to both sessions, chauffered between the sites in a golf cart! Made us feel like celebrities. Bob Ray Sanders talked about the Calvin Littlejohn book at the Austin Museum of Art and Marcia Daudistel talked about Literary El Paso at the Capitol extension. Their sessions overlapped, so we left one early and came late to the other, but heard the work of TCU Press generously praised at both. Our authors did us proud too. But it's always a long day, and, even though I sat at a signing table most of the morning, my feet were tired last night.
I am staying with Megan and her family, and 5-year-old Sawyer has been talking to me about "book people." He asked if I had to "go to work" today since Halloween is over.I guess Halloween and book festival are forever linkede in his mind.
Apparently an executive from Random House spoke yesterday (I heard this third-hand) predicting that in the future pubishing will be all print-to-order, so that you go into a store, ask for a book, and it's printed for you or, worse, you order it at home and print or download it. What happened to browsing? And the beauty of a well made book with good paper and great design? TCU Press has many older titles in a PTO program and we plan to do the first run of two reprints that way in the spring, but I am uncertain about initial runs of new books. I'm just not sure from a marketing standpoint. I think and hope the speaker from Random House was mistaken, especially since Calvin Littlejohn: Portrait of a Community in Black and White is one of the most beautiful photography books we've ever done--and one of the most interesting. It would never be the same PTO. Today I am not going to be one of the "book people"--I'm going to watch my grandsons ride their bikes and, as Sawyer asked, "do fun things" with them.