My daughters are
enjoying a girls-only trip to Chicago, primarily to hear a John Mayer concert,
but they took in a little of the high life. Dinner last night at RPM Steaks—we ate
at RPM Italian in September and loved it.
I reminded them
that today is my mother’s birthday. Jordan remembered one year when we headed
to the cemetery but to my dismay she insisted on stopping at 7-Eleven. I demanded
to know why, and she said, “Grandmother loved it when I brought her blow pops.”
So, she apparently bought a blow pop and sent this picture.
Meantime, back in
Fort Worth, I was living the high life too. Breakfast with Book Ladies this
morning at Old Neighborhood Grill. Book Ladies is a group of women, mostly retired,
whose work and lives have centered around books. One other woman and I are the
only members of the original group that met over 25 years ago, when we were all
far from retired. This morning there were at least 12 women at the table—too many
for me to easily follow any conversation over the noise of the ladies and the
background noise of the restaurant. But I had one egg over easy, toast, and
hash browns, the latter a luxury I’ve only recently begun to allow myself. And
it’s lovely to see this happy, vibrant group together, going strong after all
these years. I think I can rightfully call myself a founder.
For lunch, friend
Carol and I went to the Modern Art Museum, where a former student of mine is
sous chef—I guess that’s her title. On Tuesdays, the kitchen is hers and she is
responsible for the special. I asked in advance what it was and could we have a
window table on the water. We had the table, and I had the special—lamb chops,
orzo with artichoke heart pieces, spinach, feta and a wee bit of crème fraiche
to hold it all together. Absolutely delightful! I plan to try to duplicate it.
The plate was brightened with a small salad—tomatoes, cuke, and endive. Hats
off to Heather Hogan Holt—I’m still sorry she didn’t follow her original
leaning toward a bookish career, but she sure makes a great chef (and good
friend).
Saw the doctor
about my lactose intolerance (after all that feta and crème fraiche) and was
told I was doing so well he didn’t need to see me again unless I need him. I’m to
go back to my primary care physician. Love those words from a doc, “You’re
doing so well, I don’t need to see you!”
In between all
that I wrote 938 words on my work-in-progress—sixty-two words to go to reach my
daily word count.
Tonight? I’m tired
and headed for another evening of reading.
No comments:
Post a Comment