Random happiness

Today has been a banner day. Colin, my oldest child, came through town (I mean that literally—he didn’t even come to the house, but we met at Carshon’s) with his Lisa, twelve-year-old Morgan, and ten-year-old Kegan. We celebrated a reunion of sorts (half the family) and Jordan’s birthday with brunch at the deli. Colin could, I’m quite sure, sneak through Fort Worth without telling me, but he’d never be here without a trip to Carshon’s. He’s in his late forties now, and he’s been going there ever since he was a baby.

It’s always a joy to see one of your children after an absence—okay, only since Christmas—but it’s a particular joy to see him looking so well and happy, since he has a chronic health condition. Lisa said he spent spring vacation skiing like an eighteen-year-old, and he has a smashed thumb and who knows what else to show for his wipe-outs. All four of them looked glowingly healthy. Colin is riding a wave—happy marriage, wonderful children, good job, amazing home. He’s a happy man, and I love his positive outlook on life.We sent them on their way back to Tomball, and Jordan and Christian went about the business of celebrating her birthday.

When I bought this house, some twenty-five years ago, I was warned about living across from an elementary school. The school has ben a joy, especially since it’s the focal point of our neighborhood, the glue that holds it together, and Jacob went through all grades there. The zoo? Not so much. Every spring break, zoo traffic seems to get worse. These days it’s bumper to bumper even in front of our house, which means some drivers are trying to make an end run around the traffic—and failing. As for the road through the park that’s our favorite shortcut everywhere, don’t even think of it. I thought by Saturday it would be over, but it wasn’t. Now we’re waiting for Monday.

My neighbor Jay (yeah, the good-looking one) put in my vegetable garden today. I was convinced he waited too late for lettuce, but I was thinking seeds and he bought plants. Had to dig up the ground and all those spring weeds and install a drip watering system which is on a timer to the faucet. I am so excited—I’m going to make wilted lettuce. When I told him that he said no, he’d fixed the water source, so it wouldn’t wilt. He also planted onions and some basil seed. The basil will last the whole long summer. Having basil at your finger trips is a treat—I recently bought some from the store, but it was limp and unattractive, and I pitched it. And there’s nothing more wonderful than lettuce and onions that have just come out of the dirt.

Storms brewing tonight. The sky has turned a funny color, and I hear thunder rumbling quite close. Sophie is looking a bit alarmed. I’m expecting happy hour guests. They said they’d be here unless it comes a tornado. I’ve got the TV on just in case.

Later: the storms turned into nothing but a lovely gentle rain, kissing the new lettuce plants. Jay said maybe if he’d planted two weeks earlier, it would have rained two weeks ago. We’ve gone quite a while without rain.

Lovely visit tonight with friends who were neighbors almost fifty years ago and have remained friends ever since. My hors d’oevres platter turned out to be just right, and we visited about everything from kids to cruises. A perfectly lovely evening. So comfortable to be with people you’ve known forever who know you and love you in spite of your foibles.

Time to read.