Jordan's basket of lap robes.
Ah,
Texas! It’s 71 degrees out, but the late afternoon sun has a definite wintry
glow to it. Golden and lovely, but it speaks to me of colder temperatures. And
the trees which last week still had lots of leaves are tonight almost bare. Tonight
the low is 56 and tomorrow a cold front, with cold to continue through the weekend
and a storm predicted for Christmas Eve. Tonight, we’ll take advantage of the
sort-of-balmy weather and have a fire on the patio. It’s Tuesday night and our
regular Tuesday-night neighbors are coming for wine by the fire. Jordan now has
a colorful basket of blankets that she brings out to cover chilly laps. It may
be 71 now, but it cools so rapidly once the sun goes down.
The
big news around here today is that the free-standing basketball hoop and the
tetherball, both of which Jacob has outgrown, are gone from the driveway. The
tetherball went to a neighbor with young kids, and I think he just walked it
home. But loading the heavy and awkward hoop on a pickup was a major
production. I watched from my window as Jordan, Jacob, and the gentleman who came
for it struggled to situate it in the truck so it would stay. From what I could
see, the guy ultimately decided that bungee cords would be superfluous, so they
worked hard to balance it. I hope he drove slowly and carefully to wherever he
was going.
It’s
not so much that Jacob has outgrown the hoop but that his focus now is so
totally on golf. I would guess he manages some golf four or five days a week.
His Austin cousin, Ford, on the other hand, is totally focused on basketball
and has just made a city-wide team. So nice to see these boys find activities
at which they can excel and which hold their interest. Ford’s older brother,
Sawyer, has chosen bike riding (the gymnastic kind where he shattered an elbow)
but his main love is really his guitar. And Kegan in Tomball is an extraordinary
soccer player—he now has a kick coach.
I’m
glad to have the driveway free and clear once again. With the basketball hoop
lying on its side, it always looked slightly like a disaster area to me. Now a
car picking me up can drive much closer to the cottage, and I don’t have to
struggle with the holes and dips in our ancient driveway. We are notorious for
having the worst driveway in town—built for skinny 1920s cars. Those of us who
drive it daily (or did) can do it automatically, knowing just where to cut the wheel,
but I have friends who refuse to try it and a couple who have given up in the
middle of backing out and asked Jordan to do it for them.
Sophie
misbehaved this morning, and that’s putting it mildly. The minute she was out
the door, at seven-thirty, I knew we were in trouble. She exited barking.
Apparently the squirrel network sent out word she was in the yard, and they
gathered to taunt her. She runs frantically, yipping all the while, and she
gets so excited her bark turns into a squeak. I’m fairly useless at going after
her when she’s so excited, so there I was sitting in the doorway with a piece
of cheese in my hand, futilely calling out “Cheese!” every time she came
anywhere close to me. She didn’t care. She was in another zone. So Jordan came
out and announced, “If I was you neighbor, I’d shoot your dog.” She got her in,
and when Sophie, having not learned the lesson of the morning, wanted to go out
again, I yelled. Yes I did. And then Sophie and I had to make up. And Jordan
and I had to start the day over again. And I kept thinking that love conquers
all—sometimes not at seven-thirty in the morning.
Barbecue
tonight for supper, from Railhead. But from now on, we’re eating slim. Getting
read for big feasts on Thursday and Friday. If you can’t celebrate with family,
eating well is the next best revenge. Doesn’t exactly sound like one of Jesus’
teachings, but for this year it must do.
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