Christmas wishes from the Alters

We're scattered tonight but my family joins in one voice to wish you all a blessed Christmas.

Spring break rolls on

Today, although it started out cold, I really do believe spring is on its way. Greg, the wonderful neighbor who keeps my yard in shape, came to begin the spring cleanup and move indoor plants outside. I swear I will scream if it freezes again. It will take a while before the yard and porch and deck look like I want them to, but we're on the way, and we have great plans. I saw somewhere the idea of buying potty soil, slitting the bag lengthwise, and pushing seeds down into it, so you can grow rows of lettuce, spinach, whatever. Perfect, because I have an old glass-topped table I can put the bags on so a) I won't have to bend over to get to them, and b) Sophie, who is a great plant killer, can't destroy them. Last year she killed three roses--not knock-out but like them--that Greg planted. She literally trampled them to death.
Pleasant evening tonight waiting for Colin, my oldest, and his family to arrive on the way home from Santa Fe. They are bringing another family I've never met, and I had every good intention of cleaning house. It went by the way when I remembered I had a speaking engagement this morning, but I have sort of straightened. Because I'm anticipating their arrival--and a phone message that Jordan is home--I don't really want to settle down to work, so I'm going through the food magazines on my desk and clipping recipes I want. Always makes me happy. Anyone for salmon with smashed peas?
Meanwhile I haven't heard from the Austin branch who are skiing at Beaver Creek but I am getting wonderful pictures from the Frisco Alters who are in Seattle. Makes me want to jump on a plane and join them.
They report that the farmers market is one of their favorite places so far, and I can see why. It's enough to draw anyone from dry Texas to the lush Northwest.
But they also enjoyed a ferry trip to Bainbridge, wherever that is. I understood the joy on Maddie's face--I, who am firmly against a cruise, love to ride a ferry.

A time for resolutions--or is it?

Jacob and I celebrated New Year's Eve tonight with fondue and wine--sparkling cider or "kid wine" for him, and chardonnay for me. He asked for fondue because we had it last year and he loved it. I had forgotten that it is both expensive and work-intensive--I stirred until I thought it would never come together. And then he said he didn't really like the cheese much but he ate the bread and apples. Truth is, it wasn't as good as I remember either, and it scorched on the bottom. Nonetheless, the idea was fun.
The other night at dinner we were joking about my son-in-law's 2014 resolutions, and I suggested he resolve never to say, "I don't eat ......." He looked appalled and said he couldn't do that. So I said that I had no resolutions to make, and he retorted, "Oh. Because you're perfect?" And I said, "You got it." Truth is I do have some resolutions in mind, though they are only vaguely formulated in my mind--I may blog about them later, but all I can say now is that they have to do with personal growth.
Meantime it occurs to me that New Year's Eve is also a time to look backward and give thanks for the good things in our past year and in our lives. I started a list.
On a daily basis, I am grateful beyond words for my four children and their families, their love for me and pride in my work, their successes in their own lives and families. They make me proud every day--well, okay, there are a few lapses. I am particularly grateful for Jordan, her husband Christian, and their son Jacob who constitute my local family and whom I see almost every day. Because I keep Jacob in the afternoons and a lot of nights I am particularly close to him...and I wish I had that relationship with my other six grandchildren.
I am grateful for my writing, my involvement in the online mystery-writing community, and the shape that work gives to my daily life, though I'm glad I don't rely on it for my livelihood. I'm grateful for my oh-so-comfortable house where I am completely at home, and for those who help me run it--the wonderful woman who cleans, Greg who keeps the garden, Lewis and Jim who see to repairs major and minor. Jacob pointed out it takes a lot of people to run my house, and I said, "Yes, a village." I'm thankful too for wonderful neighbors
I am grateful for Sophie, that wild Indian of a dog who stole a big chunk of expensive tuna off my plate last night and just snitched a Kleenex (used of course). She is daily in her devotion, even lying in the middle of the bathroom when I shower. She is good company, and I love our special tummy-rub time late at night.
2013 brought problems but mostly moments of high delight--there was a marvelous trip to Hawaii with Jordan in late February--a place I never thought I'd go, and I loved it. Thanks to lifelong friends Martha and Dick for hosting us. There was a wowzer of a 75th birthday party, mostly celebrating the new deck in my backyard. For most of the year, Elizabeth lived in the guest house--she was great company, Jacob adored her, and I welcomed not only our late-night wine sessions but also the presence of another person on the property. A corner of our small community here will always miss her. This fall brought a much-anticipated visit from my high school buddy Barbara and her daughter, Amy--too short but wonderful times. We can laugh together as we did in high school.
And there was our Christmas trip to Santa Fe which also brought about a visit with a thirty-year friend I probably haven't seen in ten years.
Do I have worries? Of course--the health of my oldest son is tops on my list of worries, closely followed by what I should do about my career. And there are niggling small annoyances but I feel so blessed by the life I lead.
2014? I think I'll try to grow up--and out (spiritually and mentally but, Lord help me, not physically). God rest ye all and bring you a bright new year.

Birthdays and family celebrations--nothing better

Sawyer's older cousin Maddie helps him decorate his birthday cake.

She explained she'd done that in life skills, which she said is

just home ec renamed.

 

Priceless!

He liked the Rick Riordan books I gave him.

 

This weekend the Alters all gathered at Megan and Brandon's home in Austin to celebrate Sawyer's ninth birthday and a bit belatedly, Jacob's seventh and Melanie's (I'm not saying!). The pictures above are self-explanatory. Sawyer drew his birthday out into a three-day affair and loved every minute of it.

From the moment we arrived about lunchtime Saturday, it was chaos, pandemonium, and exuberant fun. Everyone swam and bounced in the bounce house and played X-Box--except it was in the room where I slept and I shooed them out for a nap. Then the boys' uncle, aunt, and two-year-old cousin arrived and it was back in the pool; then the Hudgeons grandparents arrived. Megan had planned one of her usual feasts--hummus, guac and salsa before dinner; sliders with all the trimmings, corn on the cob, and a huge salad of marinated vegetables; Penny Hudgeons brought marvelous horseradish pickles from Central Market. Everybody ate too much and waited until almost ten for cake--with of course a swim in between.

Much as I love my family, I admit the noise and confusion wears me out. And I take my hearing aids in and out--one minute it's too noisy (often loud music) and the next I can't hear what anyone says. I was exhausted Saturday night and slept soundly--having evicted the X-Box players from my room.

Today we "hung out." Jamie came out to run about nine, and one by one kids began to clamor to ride or run with him and then adults joined in until he had a whole pack--but on Jamie Alter time, they didn't leave until after eleven, when it was getting hot. Melanie, seven-year-old Morgan, and I went to a terrific plant store--the faery gardens caught our eye, and I bought a small one for Elizabeth who was watching Sophie, plus two succulents for my cactus garden in a container on the front porch. It was a funky place with wonderful plants and pots, all reasonably priced, Koi carp in a pool, parrots in a cage in the gift shop, and a great-looking café up a level overlooking the nursery. Morgan had a wonderful time, and we all want to go back.

We didn't expect all of the runners/bikers to be back but they were, so we ate leftovers for lunch and it was back in the pool.

Jordan, Jacob and I came home the back way--183 to 281, then at Hico cut over to Glen Rose, up to Granbury, and home on 377, with a devious route once we hit Benbrook. Three-and-a-half hours, half an hour longer than our trip down on I-35 but we were afraid of Sunday night traffic jams and enjoyed the scenery--though we got silly by the time we got near Fort Worth. One of Jacob's memories will be those two crazy ladies, his mom and grandmom, taking him on trips.

I'm home again, and as always glad to be here, but I did so enjoy the weekend. As we were saying goodbye, I hugged Jamie and said "You have a wonderful family," and he replied, "So do you." So true. I am rally blessed.

Family and friends and gratitude

Banner day--I got mail from two of my grandchildren--a sweet card from my oldest granddaughter sent from Hong Kong, where she's been with her dad while he had business. I gave her the National Geographic guide to Hong Kong and she wrote to thank me and say she'd seen places mentioned in the book. And, to balance it out, a sweet card from my youngest--six-year-old Kegan who wrote to thank me for his birthday present--a soccer jersey--and to say he misses me and loves me so much. Be still my heart!
This has been a week in which I think how blessed I am with friends. Lunch one day with a friend of 40 years, dinner the next night with a new friend who paid for my dinner before I got there--she knew what I'd order, lunch with another dear friend and happy hour the next day with my former neighbor who still calls me her Fort Worth mom, lunch again today and then I took dinner to a friend and her husband. She's just had a knee replacement and isn't getting around very well. Makes me think how blessed I am.
And I've thought about the blessings of friendship all week. I am surrounded by friends and family who know me well and care for me. If it weren't for that, I'd never know I had the TIA, but friend Jean who took me to lunch that day and on the way home said, "I want you to call your doctor. Something has happened to you." Then in came Elizabeth from the garage apt. saying, "Are you okay? You look really tired." What I didn't know was that there was a network of calls going on  behind my back. Jean called Elizabeth; Elizabeth called Jordan; Jordan called my brother and then came to take me to the ER; the next day, after the ER "trash" diagnosis, my brother called my doctor. And after I posted an incoherent blog I got days of messages of concern. My youngest son even came from Dallas to take me to lunch--a rare treat, but we had a good visit.
I'm not sure what I've done to merit all this concern, but I am so grateful--and so resolved now to pay it forward. I do think one thing is true: the more you reach out to others, the happier your life.
I'm now back to normal--what is that anyway?--feeling fine and almost free of the lingering fear or depression that followed the TIA. Nothing but good in the future.
 

One Early Easter Morning

As I dressed in the dark this morning, I began to think that I had been so preoccupied with the logistics of the day--sunrise service, Easter egg hunt and breakfast for six adults and two kids, then a respite and then mid-day dinner for eight--that I hadn't stopped to meditate on the significance of the day, to let the wonder of God's love sink in. The service was lovely, and the minister--a young man I didn't know--said jut the right words, said that some rejoiced that Jesus was risen but others were fearful, even doubting, which he said is okay. I very much needed to hear that message. The service was highlighted for me by the offertory--"One Early Easter Morning," which I've blogged about before. I sang it in choir at the age of 10, 12, I don't know. But it has bounced around in my head ever since, and I was so grateful to our music director for scheduling it. A quartet, with one acting as soloist, sang it a capalla. We had all groaned about sunrise and early getting up (5:30) but we decided it was inspirational and we'll do it again next year. It's lovely to go to church, outdoors in a courtyard, in the dark and watch the sky turn pink and then blue. As though God were reaching down to say, "It is true. He is Risen." (As our breakfasts guests left, the dad said, "He Lives!" and Jacob asked, "Who lives?" Oh well, he'll learn!).
Ultimately the day was mostly about kids. Jacob began the day at 5 a.m., waking his parents because he had a bonus morning, both the Easter bunny and the tooth fairy visited during the night. That tooth has been hanging for weeks, but he wouldn't let anyone touch it. A stray elbow in a bouncy house at a birthday party yesterday did the trick.

Jacob and his friend/sister, Eva, had a great time hunting eggs, and then we all had sausages, eggs, fruit, and hot cross buns--which I love but nobody else seemed to much like. Nice gathering, good way to start the day. And easy kitchen clean-up. After they left, I got a short nap, and then it was time to get ready for 3:00 p.m. dinner.

Most of the dinner was ready--a sliced ham waiting to be put in the oven, potato salad, fruit salad with just a little more cutting needed, green beans snapped and ready to roast--but the deviled eggs were still empty half eggs, although the filling was made, I was dragging my heels, hoping Jordan would stuff them. Well, now I know the trick--my ten-year-old granddaughter is a pro. I always spoon the filling in, recognizing that it doesn't looks as good. Edie cut a corner in a baggie and piped it in with the precision that characterizes everything she does. They looked beautiful. We had as always a noisy happy hour and a joyous dinner.
What's my lesson from this Easter? Well, I always wait to be blown away by the certainty of my faith, but much as I believe, little doubts creep in, sort of "What ifs?" in the back of my mind. Today I learned that those little doubts are okay and that's it's also okay for me to focus on family, friends, and food even, and maybe especially, on high holy days. And now I wish I could sing with the quartet the last stanza of "One Early Easter Morning," particularly approriate for a sunrise service:

At last the dawn came streaming

Across the Eatern sky.

Thank God for Easter morning

When Christ the Lord rides by.

Chaos

My house is quiet right now, althugh a certain dog tension lingers in the air. I have as guests four extra adults, four extra children (plus Jacob), and two extra dogs. My house is honestly not that big. The dogs are the big problem: Megan's dog, mostly mini poo, is docile, loving and goes with the flow. Sophie is out of her mind with excitement over people and dogs, wants to play with everyone and jump all over them (Megan made the mistake of sitting on the floor and was floored by Sophie jumping on her--I explained that if you're on the floor, you're fair game). Colin's new dog, Gracie (Sofia Grace when she's in trouble) is the big problem. A large German shepherd mix that had a litter when she was put in the shelter, growled, snapped and acted like she wanted to eat Sophie alive; pretty soon she decided Eddie was just as bad. So now, oh peace, she is crated, Sophie is fed and outside, and Eddie is wandering around.
Everyone has gone to the rodeo, and I pray it's a long one, so I can do some of the stuff I had in mind to do tonight, like write my thousand words and make a meatloaf to stick in the freezer. When they are here, much as I love them, they all talk at once, and I have to either yell over them to announce I have something to say or corner the one I need to talk to. But we had a few pleasant, fairly quiet moments in front of the fireplace.
I had all kinds of sandwich makings so they could snack--they ate chips and salsa, and a little bit of cheese ball. Only Colin ate a sandwich, so I foresee a lot of lunch meat in my future. The two grown girls, after dressing their children warmly, left for the rodeo  in clothes that were more cowgirl glitzy than warm--and it's cold tonight.
In spite of all that, I am of course delighted to have them home, sorry my youngest son and his family will only be here for the day tomorrow, heartbroken for Jordan who is still in bed with the flu and now feeling well enough to be bored out of her gourd. They are all lovely adults, as glad to see me as I am to see them, and the chldren are a delight. My oldest grandson is the one who greets me with big kisses, but he's also the one who cannot keep his hands off things--the pens on my desk would make great projectiles (I didn't ask what he intended to project), the paper clips fascinate him, an empty decorative jar has to be opened and closed several times. When I explained that my desk is strictly off limits, he said, "But there are so many interesting things with so many possibilities." I'm used to Jacob who sees a pen as something that requires a blank piece of paper (usually a discarded piece with typing on the other side). Tomorrow my two oldest granddaughters will arrive but for now Morgan is the only girl--she does a credible job of holding her own. They all want to be in and out of doors, and no amount of warning them Sophie will bolt does any good so now I look the doors and hide the keys. Sort of like a fortress.
No doubt, Jacob will want to spend the night with his cousins, and no doubt, since we're short on sleeping space, he'll end up in my bed. But I'll do that just to have as much of my family as possible under my roof. It's a delightful feeling to know when I go to sleep my children and grandchildren are nearby.
I confess in a weak moment I called Jordan and offered to trade her sickbed for my place, but I didn't really mean it. And she knew it. She's really tired of watching old movies.

"Tis the season--for the flu

Unfortunately it's flu season, and it's hit my family in spite of the flu shot. Jacob got the nasal mist--and then the flu, but he wasn't very sick. With a 103 temp, he felt fine and I had to say, "No, you can't go outside and play." Then daughter-in-law Lisa in Houston got it--a gift, she said, from one of her seventh graders. She was sick when I arrived for Christmas but still she had a mild case. Now Jordan has it, and she says even her teeth hurt. Poor thing. I wish I could do more for her. What I am doing is keeping Jacob overnight, since his dad has a big and early meeting in the morning.
When Jacob came home from his other gandparents on Monday, he hadn't seen his parents since Thursday morning. Yesterday, he told me he was going to be sick today because he hadn't gotten to cuddle with his mom the night before or that morning like he usually did. "I just can't wait any longer!" he exclaimed. She seemed better yesterday, and he got some cuddling, but then she fell apart during the night and spiked a 103 fever. He seems okay about staying here tonight, and I have promised him Betty and I would take him for spaghetti.
The timing is bad. The whole family arrives Friday for our annual rodeo weekend, and one contingent was to stay with Jordan. Still wondering what to do about that. We may have to put air mattresses and pallets all over my house. Elizabeth has settled herself in the guest house, with her furniture (she put mine in storage), so I don't think it's fair at this point to boot her out for the weekend. We'll work it out--we always do--and I'll do a massive grocery shopping tomorrow. But it seems life is always complicated.
Of course, I'd like to run hug and cuddle and comfort my child, but she's the one who reminded me I'm in the at-risk age group (gosh, that makes me feel good!). I might have serious complications from the flu. So even though I've had the shot, I keep my distance. But it's hard not to comfort  your child, even if she is grown.
Doesn't seem fair that those who have gotten the protection have gotten sick...and Christian, who hasn't gotten the shot, hasn't. He says he's going to but it may be like closing the barn door too late.
I'll be glad when spring comes.

Adam's Off Ox

My children have always been wonderful about including me, as have their friends. So it came as a shock last weekend, when most of us gathered in my oldest daughter's Austin home, to realize they were all in a circle in the kitchen...and I sat at the far end of the huge granite kitchen island, clearly out of the loop. The few comments I tried to add to the conversation went unnoticed. I was isolated  amidst a sea of noise. With the grandchildren and TV in the background and the grown children all talking (they get louder with a drink or two) all I heard was a cacaphony of sounds that I could make no sense of. If I took my hearing aids out, I heard a faint rumble. I felt about as useless as Adam's off ox.
I think it's a circular problem. I have a hard time hearing, so I retreat to my book or my iPad. The children think, "Mom's reading her book or Facebook" and count me out. They think I'm not interested in their talk, not realizing how much I want to be part of it. I don't think this is my problem alone--hearing people don't realize the isolation of the hearing impaired.
I certainly don't want to demand that they all talk directly to me, but yet I want to be part of their conversations. It was, after all, a family gathering. I talked to Colin, the oldest, about it the next morning, and he said, "We'll figure something out." But I think the solution is up to me, and I'll begin by making an appointment with my audiologist. And then I think I'll make it a point at Thanksgiving to put my book aside and slide right into the middle of that circle.
But I have a plea for those of you who have a hearing-impaired family member--don't lose patience when they don't understand--a funny thing about hearing loss: sometimes I hear the words but they don't transmit to my brain as anything meaningful. And maybe go out of your way to see that they are in the conversation.
And don't choose noisy restaurants!
This is not a problem I ever expected to have. I have not flown in a lot of noisy planes nor listened to a lot of loud music--neithr is my style. I suspect, from things I've read, that my hearing loss traces back to a combination of hormones that I was given in the '90s. But that is neither here nor there--my hearing is getting worse, and I don't like it. It's up to me, no one else, to learn to deal with it. But, gosh, guys, I'd like a little help...and a lot of love.

A cooking failure and a lovely evening

My Easter table

What do you do when it's the Saturday night before Easter and you're alone and having a pity party? Why cook yourself a good meal, of course. So that's what I did. But it didn't quite work out. First of all, I generally don't like tilapia. But I found a recipe that sounded good--poach it in wine, make a cream sauce and top with sauteed mushrooms. Of course I fiddled with the recipe--no way I'm putting two cups heavy cream in a sauce, so I added a small spoon of light sour cream. Of course I didn't let the cooking liquid reduce enough--impatience!--and I didn't as the recipe said thicken it with cornstarch or flour and water. Result was a runny sauce that did nothing for the fish. And guess what? I don't like tilapia. The aspargus was good, but I've been eating on the same bunch of aspargus all week.
I decided chocolate and chardonnay fix anything, so I took both of those, with my Kindle, out on the porch. Lovely evening. As I came out the door, a small gray and  white kitty skittered away from my monkey grass--hope she's not someone's lost baby. Then I sat and stared at squirrels, who are my enemy because they ruin my porch plants. The big old elm in front of the house has a huge knot hole in it--one  year we sat and watch birds fly in and out. They had built a nest there and were feeding babies. Tonight squirrels were in and out of it. Do they build nests? The world does not need more squirrels, at least my corner of the world.
I got my chili book as ready to send off as I can today, and the book on my pile is dark and depressing--a holocaust survival tale with a twist. Not what my mood needed. So here's the glory of an e-reader: I ordered Carolyn Hart's newest Death on Demand book, Death Comes Silently, and read until it grew too dark. Then I came in and filled the deviled egg shells--gosh that filling is good!
Mood much improved now.
For those of you who celebrate Easter, may you have a blessed day tomorrow. If Passover, enjoy that. I've lost track of how far into Passover it is, but I do have fond memories of seders more raucous than reverent. But I'm sure the intent was there, and I think seders are meant to be joyous. How I'd love some good, crisp, hot latkes!
Table set with my Easter china--check. Eggs deviled--check. Dishes out to cook lamb and vegetables--check. I'm all set for Easter dinner. So glad to share it with Sue Boggs, her children and her parents as well as Jordan, Christian, and Jacob. And maybe my Colin--what a treat even a brief visit from him will be.

High times in Frisco

Last night all of the Alters plus many friends gathered at the Londoner in Frisco to suprirse Jamie with a celebration of his fortieth birthday. Jame is rarely blindsided--but he was this time. As he topped the steps to the second-floor private room where we waited, his eyes widened and he pulled back in surprise, effectively taking a part of the stair railing with him. My blog of Wednesday about how I wished we could celebrate was a red herring--devised by Colin and Melanie--to throw Jamie off the track. I dont think he even got that part but he was surprised. Not only his family, but his cousin, some high school friends, neighbors, employees and people I have no idea about.
We dined on chicken and beef satay and shepherd's pie--his absolute favorite.

Jamie is a triathlete, and Mel got the absolutely perfect cake for him. Top layer red velvet, middle layer white cake, and bottom chocolate, all covered with rich butter cream frosting. (Blew my diet, especially the chocolate piece I had at breakfast!) We had a hard time keeping little fingers from reaching out to swipe at the frosting, but finally Jamie blew out all 40 candles in one breath--no small trick because they were scattered on the various layers of the cake.
At eight or so in the evening, the older girls--Maddie, 12, and Eden, 8--along with Maddie's best friend went home with all the smaller children. I was invited to go but wasn't ready to leave the party. By the time we finally went home, after ten-thirty, I was really ready.

The birthday boy with his brother Colin on the left (who told funny stories about Jamie) and his brother-in-law Christian on the right.
Of course, the Alters had to rehash the evening, and all the young children were still up and going. I finally snuck off to bed at 12:30 but didn't sleep well--too far past my bedtime and too much wine and  food.
Hats off to Mel who put the whole party together--we got there early to be "on duty," but she had clearly been there with candles, flowers, tablecloths, a cake server--she thought of everything. And after a late night, she was up early this morning and off to the grocery to put together breakfast for seventeen. A true gift of love to my son--from a multi-talented young woman whom I love a lot.
This morning after breakfast everyone wanted to do something "fun." Do you have any idea how long it takes to organize seventeen people?  We finally left the house about 11:45 and of course had to go eat again. Then we went to Main Event--the kind of place my children and grandchildren love and I deplore (Mel is on my side, as she always is when everyone wants to go skiing). Video games, bowling alleys, pool tables, loud, loud, loud. I found the bar, which was relatively quiet, and had a glass of wine, read emals and Facebook. Jamie was astounded that I didn't want to play games. We were probably there not much over an hour but it seemed forever. We headed home but when we were almost back to Fort Worth, Megan and her family were still back in Frisco--and they had to drive to Austin. Colin left when we did for the long drive to Houston.
It's always an amazing delight to me to be with all my family. I am so blessed. But it's also always so good to be back home, sort myself out, unpack and get into my comfortable world. And this time I have the joy of knowing they'll all be back in three weeks for the Southwestern Live Stock Show and Rodeo.
I think my dogs were glad to see me.

Happy Birthday, Jamie.

James Andrew Alter turned forty today. I'm having a hard time with this. He's my second son, third child. Three now have hit the forty mark. I know all parents feel this way, but it seems only yesterday he was dragging a cat by the tail and saying, "This is muh pet." That cat remained "Muh Pet" the rest of her life and when she once scratched him, I asked, "What did you do to Muh Pet?" Reply: "I hammered her." HIs birthday has set me to thinking about incidents and sayings from all my child-rearing years, with all four children. Happy as I am with my life now, I sometimes long for those days.Yes, they were hectic and I was exhausted most of the time, but we were all five happy people.
When I said by email to Jamie today that I carry a lot of happy memories, he replied that he had a lot of his own. We'll share someday, but I know all my children have those memories. They love to play the game of "Remember the time . . .?"
In the picture above of my family, taklen at my 70th birthday, Jamie is on the far right with his hand on his daughter's shoulder. Colin is in the back on my left and Megan on my right; Jordan is kneeling in front.
We normally make a big deal of decade-changing birthdays but we were all together at Christmas and will be again in early February when everyone arrives for the rodeo and stock show. I'd love to have a gathering of the clan to celebrate Jamie this weekend, but we'll do it at stock show time. I remember one year cooking his favorite meal--prime rib--but there are so many of us now there's no way I could afford prime rib for sixteen. I bet we end up with barbecue or chicken-fried steak or, heaven forbid, tacos from Ernesto's when we do celebrate.
I remember better when my brother turned forty than I do when I did. He and his much younger wife were visiting, and I wrote "40" in shaving cream on every mirror in the house. He lost patience. I won't say how many years ago that was, for fear he'd lose patience again. But I think when I turned forty, it wasn't a happy time in my life. For Jamie, it's a happy, good time with a wonderful family, a good business, an active exercise life, and--always--a bit of trickery and fun. He can still prank call me successfully.
So tonight, I'll raise a glass of wine in toast to Jamie, and he'll raise his Diet Coke back at me from Frisco. And then I'll make a second toast to my three other wonderful children, one of whom thank goodness is still in her thirties--okay, late thirties, but we won't quibble. Oops, I'm getting sentimental here. 'Nuf said.

Family, family, family

My two sons have a running "thing" about who is my favorite. Colin will call me with "Hi, Ma, it's me, your favorite son" and Jamie will post on Facebook, "Mom, I know you love me a lot but we have to remember you have another son and we don't want to hurt his feelings." So I got two shirts that said, "Mom likes me best" and made them open them simultaneously. They thought I had scored, so thanks to friend Sally for finding these.
Have you ever slept on an air mattress? One with a leak? We air it up before I got to bed but it gets quite soft during the night--then it's hard to move in the bed because it seems to envelop me, and it's hard to get up. I can't get the support to stand up. I finally decided it's best to roll off, get on all fours, and stand up from there. But the corker came this afternoon when I took up a nap. I had pushed the mattress close to the bookcase and put the phone on a shelf so I could check the time. Rolled over to do that and the whole mattress came with me, standing on its side. I was trapped by the covers. After two tries I extricated myself but I had visions of having to call the children, which would have a) made them laugh, and b) convinced them I need a keeper.
The funny thing about all this is that my grown kids are on a protective kick about me. Yesterday, as I took rolls out of the lower oven, my hand brushed the rack and got a tiny burn, momentary discomfort. Meantime Megan demanded that I let go of the pan--she was sure I was falling and about to put my hand on the oven door. In truth, I only needed someone to push the rolls back onto the rimless cookies sheet. But it was "Mom, after this, let us get things out of the lower oven!"  My reaction was a vehement "No! I'm capable." I've had a cold, the kind that makes you snort and snuff in the morning and leaves a lingering cough. So I've dealt with threats to take me to an ER clinic in spite of my protests that feel fine and it's just a cold.
I'm protesting that if they keep this up, they'll make me old before my time. Their argument--mostly Colin--is that I'm of an age where a fall can have serious consequences (didn't tell them I tripped on bed clothes yesterday and took a hard fall) and pneumonia can be serious, etc. Compromise: I will call my doctor's office tomorrow.
A Christmas Eve photo that I find beond sweet: They're staring at the reindeeer food they put out, waiting for reindeer to appear. Unfortunately it rained and as someone said the reindeer food turned to oatmeal. Still, the hopefulness of children is so much a part of Christmas and its joy. I've read posts that say "Okay, we're done with Christmas. Let's move on." I'm not ready to let go of the spirit. The first child left today, a whole family will be leaving in a few minutes, but we've had three glorious days together.

My almost-always annual no-tree tree trimming party

Tonight was my tree trimming party, a party I've been giving in one form or another since 1965. I do it because I always thought trimming the tree should be festive and fun, and it wasn't when I was a kid. Nowdays I don't have a tree--never home at Christmas, etc., though I sometimes think I'll get a small table tree and a couple of years I've had really small trees that fit on the coffee table. I've been giving this party since 1965--sometimes a Sunday night, one year desserts only, sometimes at 8:00, tonight at 5:30 so people who had other plans could move on. I like the way that worked and may do it again.
Every fall, about October, I debate whethr or not to have the party, and a howl goes up from some of my friends because that's the only time they see each other. I always end  up having fun at my own party, getting lots of hugs. Many of these people are ones I don't see often, others are part of my daily life. These days, there's a big contingent of family--some direct relations, some by marriage--and there are lots of kids. My brother brings his side of the family which has grown larger than mine, since most of my kids are not close enough to come for an evening. Jordan is a whiz at planning the kids part of the party--pigs in a blanket, pretzels, chips, ranch dip, carrots, and Christmas trees to color. I don't know if any kids ever did color them tonight, but they all seemed to have a good time. The kids were all my grandnieces and grandnephews, one grandson, and two distantly related  by marriaige.
For the adults I served my traditional cheeseball, the one my mom made, liver pate, a caviar spread, cheese with curry that you top with chutney, a cheese ring topped with strawberry jam, veggies and a Caesar dip, persimmon bread, a reuben dip (always disappears).

After the food was put up and the dishes done--I hired a "party angel," a lovely woman who did a great job--I got to thinking about the business of giving a party. It's an expense for my limited budget, no doubt about it, and it's a lot of work, because there's the house to decorate, even with no tree, and I make all the dips and spreads myself and serve wine and soft drinks--no mixed drinks, no beer. Tonight folks drank a case of white wine and almost a case of red. But to me, in some strange convoluted thinking, giving this party is part of staying  young and not growing old, not saying "I can't do the party this year. I'm too old and don't have the energy." That day may come, but I hope not soon.  

As I say every year, in the afterglow of the paty, I'm doing this next year and I begin planning. There just so many people I wish I could invite and don't have room  for because of all those regulars. Hmmmm--next year, caviar dip, liver pate, cheeseball, and some surprises. And Jordan wants those meatballs that are really sausage, cheese, and Bisquick. Okay, not gourmet but good.                                                     

Those fried turkeys

My sons and sons-in-law have been frying turkeys with enthusiasm for several years--Colin and Brandon have fryers, and so far we have avoided disasters. Then I saw a truly frightening video on the TODAY show about the disasters that can occur and how many people are seriously injured a year frying turkeys--also houses fried by mistake. So I was relieved I'd be with with Jamie and Mel, where I could expect a tradtional turkey done in the oven. Imagine my dismay when Jamie last night announced he was going to WalMart to buy a fryer. I lectured about dangers to no avail.
Mid-afternoon today he discovered that his fryer came in a hundred parts and had to be assembled. All hands turned out to help--except me. I was having a lovely long nap. There was much prep and the moment came--the fully defrosted turkey was lowered into the hot grease without incident, and the cooks congratulated themseles.

Thirty-five minutes later it came out looking golden and good--okay, the legs and wings were burned, but it looked good. Jamie knows I love skin, so I got the first bite. I usually o.d. on skin and am too full to eat the meal. This was crisp and succulent. Then came the carving.

Jamie complained an audience made him nervous but he did a beauatiful job. And the meat was moist with just the right texture. Mel fixed excellent sides--we are a traditional family, with green bean casserole, dressing and mashed potatoes and gravy. For dessert, coconut pie and chess pie--I love the latter but one bite will do you. I've seen all kinds of recipes but Mel's is the traditional old-fashioned kind with white vinegar and cornmeal. And mostly sugar. I'm trying to get her to do a blog post about it.

So we had a happy Thanksgiving, with not all my family but Melanie's family and my Frisco Alters, and we have much to be thankful for. Maddie is learning sign language and she signed that she was thankful for family. Her younger sister tried to valiantly to sign "What Maddie said."

And here's our budding fashionista in her holiday outfit--she wouldn't get out of her pjs until the last minutes because she didn't want to reveal her outfit!

I hope everyone had a blessed and happy holiday, and I pray for those who were lonely, hungry, sick this holiday. May God bless them.

Now, lickety-split on to Christmas.

Family days

Whew! Family days are wonderful, and I bask in having them all around me. But they are exhausting too. This afternoon I had three grandsons ages 5-7, and one wild excited puppy. Tonight we all went to Joe T.'s for dinner--six adults and five children--well, Maddie at twelve hardly counts as a child. But Joe T.'s is noisy, and though I turned my hearing aids on the setting that was most meant to block out extraneous noise, I could only catch words, not the thread of a conversation. Some folks find it fashionable to say  that the food at Joe T.'s is sub-par and its only attraction is habit and luxurious grounds. Not so--I think it's all good, and I sop up too much of it. Cheese enchiladas in a mild tomato sauce--I love to mush my refried beans into that sauce. Those wonderful cheese nachos--okay, I scrape the chillies off but I still love them. Great guac, and tonight I liked the tacos, though I often pass them by. They didn't seem as greasy tonight.  Somebody at our table ordered sopapillas, and I loved the sweet--the sopapillas weren't particularly crisp but the honey/cinnamon combination was great. All in all a good meal. The kids clustered around Jamie, as kids are wont to do, and it s a wonder he got any dinner. He was, as always, impeccably dressed, and I worried about about all those greasy young handprints on his jacket. But, hey, that was his problem.
It was a semi-lazy, semi-frantic day. Sawyer and Ford were around until about ten--into everthing, curious, questioning, full of it. They left about ten and I had about an hour of peace before i took Sophie to training class--always an anxious time for me. Lesson went well. In fact, I feel we made some progress. And then home to a blessedly empty house--lunch and a nice nap. And then it was time to go to dinner.
So it's been a very different day from my usual routine, and I'm grateful for the change, the confusion, the happy voices, the joy. Tonight I have Megan and her family in the guest house and Jordan and Jacob in the guest room--love to have some of my chickens under my roof at night.

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!

Listening to your gut

This weekend, three-fourths of my family have gathered at Jamie's house in Frisco. I am not there, which surprises me. The Austin contingent isn't there either, but that doesn't suprise me so much. The other morning I woke early when it was still dark, and you could have scraped my anxiety off the ceiling. So I lay there and tried to figure out what I was anxious about. The brief presentation I had to make that night? Nah, I had good notes and always do better than I think once I get on my feet in front of an audience. Jacob starting school, which will change my routine completely? I didn't think so. In several ways, I'm looking forward to that--it will help me break some bad habits. The weekend won hands down.
The plans, on this 107 weekend, included a pool party at eleven with pizza in honor of granddaughter Morgan's sixth birthday and a triathlon Sunday morning in which Jamie, Colin and Lisa are participating. I am so proud of Colin and Lisa for taking up this challenge and working out in preparation. Jamie does several traithlons a season and is more of an old hand, but I am still proud of him. But that's two outdoor events in the heat and I've never done well in heat since the time when I was about twelve and got so badly sunburned--maybe sunstroke?--that I was in bed for days. Being out in heat and sun makes me woozy.
And then there's my puppy. She's too young to leave in a crate for the petsitter's twice-a-day visits, so I'd have to take her, crate and all. I'd worry about her being in the crate too much, breaking her training routine, having accidents on the floor--Jamie is pretty particular about that because he has two dogs of his own and he's afraid Sophie will set a precedent. So I decided staying home with my animal kingdom was the best plan.
Do I miss being there with everybody? Of course. A whole lot. I particularly wanted to be there for Morgan and her birthday and to show her my puppy, which she had requested. And I want to support Colin and Lisa--and be sure they don't collapse during this event. You know how mothers are--if I were there, all would be well. Am I having a sad, lonely pity party over here in Fort Worth? Not at all. I've been busy all day--getting Jacob ready and off with his mom (he'd spent the night here), visiting a friend who just had surgery, working at my desk, fixing a dinner that took some time--and was only medium good.
And I'm sort of proud of myself. It's not been long since I would have said, "Family get-togther? Got to be there." But I recognize anxiety when it takes over my mind and body, and I've learned a little bit about dealing with it. Tomorrow I'll go to church and give thanks for my family, and then I'll go to an all-church luncheon (Babe's chicken--who could resist?). And tonight I'm going to read a book. Life is good, and I'm filled with gratitude.

The naming of puppies

It may not be as difficult as the naming of cats, but naming puppies presents problems. I named my new Bordoodle Sheba, because I'd once had a farm collie (sort of, to me, a mutt Border Collie) named Sheba, short for Bathsheba Finkelstein (that is another long story not for here). But this pup looks nothing like my Sheba of forty-five years ago. Nor does she looke like a Sheba of any kind. Lots of names were put on the family table today--I discarded Roxie, although Mel, Maddie and Jamie voted for it, because I once knew a wonderful woman named Roxie who died tragically. Chloe and Zoe were considered, but I have a friend named Chloe. I discovered in the pup's papers that  though the breeder just called her Pink, her kennel name was Matilda Pink. Matilda might be shortened to Maddie (my granddaughter) but Tillie or Tillie Mae offered possibilities. Edie held out for Sophie, and that's beginning to sound good to me. In fact, I've been trying it out tonight.
I'm deep in the throes of introducing a new pup into an established household structure. When I got home this afternoon, all three animals needed attention at once--Scooby to come in out of the heat, Wywy to be fed, and Sophie to explore the house. Scooby lifted his leg on the pup (fortunately poor aim) as if to say, "Just want to be sure you understand whose house this is," and Wywy had one of his hissing fits--good thing he has no claws. I just now picked the puppy up which immediately made Wywy demand food. The pup escaped her playpen, but I have since connected the loose corners the right way and think all is well. She is happy as a lark with people around, but she whines like a Banshee if left alone in her crate or playpen. Last night, with the crate on my bed, she slept all night with one break to eat, potty, etc. And she let us all nap for an hour this afternoon--that's a habit for Scooby, Wywy, and me. We'll see what happens tonight, but I think for the first half day we've settled into a fairly good routine. Right now both dogs are lying at my feet, peaceful as can be. I'm trying to share the love.
A confession: I'm exhausted.
Many thanks to Jordan for making the trip to Frisco, to Jamie and Mel for being so hospitable to a new puppy in their two-dog, one-cat household and for treating us to delicious meals, to my granddaughters for absolutely loving Sophie and carrying her around, and to Jacob for wanting so badly to be part of holding her, training her, caring for her. It will be hard for him to learn, a bit at a time, that she is my dog, I will share, but he must accept what he can and can't do. I have a great family.

Life's little unexpected turns and twists

My day didn't turn out as I expected at all. We were to go to Jacob's T-ball game but had no car--Jamie, Colin and Lisa had taken Jamie's car to swim and run, and Mel was leery of driving Colin's car, so we didn't see the rising baseball star. But his coach has recommended that he sign up for Little League next year because he's  that good! Then I had visions of a lovely deli lunch--Colin always wants to eat at Carshon's. To my dismay he said he didn't care, and Jamie quickly jumped in with his favorite pizza place. It's a hangout from their high school days. Two things wrong here: I don't like pizza and dont need the calories, and I always think this place is dingy and dirty. Yet I wanted to go to lunch with my family, so I took a tuna salad sandwich. As Jamie said, "When you're old, you can get away with anything."
In addition to a houseful of people--four adults and five children, plus me--we've been juggling three large dogs in the heat. If we could just turn all three out in the yard, they'd be no problem. But 102 or more is too hot for that. The chocolate lab is outside now, while Scooby, unsettled by all the commotion, paces in my office. The island dog--probably part Belgian Bouvier or German shepherd--is in the apartment. He and Scooby are the old men, and their pecking order is funny. When Scooby and Mosby, the lab, are here together, Scooby is the alpha dog. But when Kaibo, the island dog, appears, he is the alpha dog. Much discussion tonight of my getting a new dog (I will, in July) with some negative opinions and support at least from Jamie, who says I can bring it to his house if it's housebroken!
Jacob's birthday was was what I expected--lovely but crowded and on the hottest day of the year so far, early in the summer. My car said 107 when I went out there about 4:30. House and yard were full of excited youngsters and their parents and other friends of Jordan and Christian. These young people are always so welcoming to me. I get lots of hugs and really feel at home. Wonder of wonders! Darth Vader appeared in person--or elaborate costume. Even my neighbor Susan thought he and his companion (I don't know who that was supposed to be) were scary. I visited with people and often sat with my family around the kitchen table Good times. Jordan is a party organizer, which she says she learned from her mom.
Jamie and crew left tonight, so it seems an incredibly short visit, but Colin and his family will stay over tonight and,  I hope, linger for a good Father's Day breakfast.
If somehow the weekend hasn't been quite what I expected, I think it's my own fault. I set my expectations high and get an idea of just how things should work and then I'm edgy when they don't go that way. Worked hard at overcoming--or at least hiding that--this weekend. And really enjoyed my kids and grandkids. They're a wonderful bunch.

The day was brightened by another guest blog, this an interview on Writers of the West by Jean Henry Mead. http://www.writersofthewest.blogspot.com/ I'm doing pretty well at this guest blog things--another one, about Scottish food, coming Monday. Jamie says I'm really milking that Scotland trip for all its worth. Guess he's right.