Glorious weather means gardening and guests

 

Sophie, waiting for happy hour company
on the patio

North Texas has had glorious weather for several days in a row now, and we are enjoying it—highs in the eighties, yet too early for mosquitoes and the humidity that blankets and smothers us in summer. The zoysia is still brown and dead-looking, but it’s always late to come back. I can see the first few buds on trees, and the bougainvillea is ready to burst. Jordan has new plants in many of the pots, and the patio is once again inviting. It has been a busy, cheerful place this past weekend, much to Sophie’s delight—and mine.

Saturday night, Jean came for supper. Talk about making someone sing for their supper, she had to go by curbside pickup at Central Market for hers. Then when she got it here, Jordan froze it. I went to get lamb chops out of the fridge and couldn’t find them. Fortunately, they hadn’t had time to get very frozen. I was on a nostalgia kick, so I paired lamb chops, which I think of as a somewhat sophisticated entrée choice, with down-home old-fashioned pea salad and carrots cooked in chicken broth. The latter are, of course, two things my family won’t eat. I need to make a list of dinners to fix when they are out, since they once again have busy schedules. But back to Saturday, Jordan joined us on the patio for happy hour before she and Christian went to a dinner party.

Sunday afternoon all three Burtons worked in the yard. At one point I saw Jacob come up the driveway, wearing dirty garden gloves, head down, and I wished I had gotten a picture. I would have labeled it, “The Reluctant Gardener.” He was not amused when I told him that. Christian planted the lettuce seeds I’ve been trying to get planted for several weeks—some in my moveable garden, some in a big planter. I’m looking forward to wilted lettuce. When I mentioned I want another pot of chives, Christian pointed to my green onions which are flourishing, so I gave him a lesson in the difference. I had the same pot of chives for years—it came back every spring—but snowmageddon killed it. I saw an apropos book today, titled The $64 Tomato. Like everything else, gardening is expensive and when you do it on a small scale, like we are, you have to do it for freshness and taste, not to save money.

Sunday night the Burtons went to PF Chang’s in Grapevine to meet Christian’s family. I was almost tempted to go along, because I haven’t been to a PF Chang’s in forever, but I had invited the Greens and the Springfields for happy hour. I made Margaret Johnson’s crab canapes—easy, absolutely delicious, and showy. Watch for the recipe in Thursday’s Gourmet on a Hot Plate blog. Margaret is our across-the-street neighbor and a good friend of Jordan’s, and I am indebted to her for a happy hour where I learned just how good those little bites are. But I have also seen the recipe online, so I don’t think it’s an exclusive. It was fun to get those four people together last night. Just before they left, Phil said to me, “A beautiful evening, Judy” and made it sound as though I had invented the perfect weather, including the slight breeze.

Sophie loves having a crowd on the patio. She goes from person to person, making sure there’s always a human hand idly stroking her head. When people arrive on the patio, she’ll race inside and bark at me, as if to say, “Come on! What is taking you so long?” Eventually, she settles down next to whoever she picks, a perfectly content dog.

This morning I wasn’t through with the patio. We had scheduled a meeting of four neighborhood women about a shift in responsibilities for the Poobah, the newsletter I edit. Amy, our association president, was held up at the last minute, but Subie, Debra Million, and I met on the patio. Jordan had provided an extensive coffee service, but Subie was the only coffee drinker. I did serve banana muffins—that is, I served them with Subie doing all the work. Inside the cottage, I can serve guests, but it’s impossible for me to go over the raised lintel from cottage to patio with anything that will spill, drop, break—you name it. If I can set it safely in the small pouch on my walker, I’m good to go—but few things meet that criterion.

So tonight, Jordan is off staying at a friend’s house much closer to where Jacob has a tournament today and tomorrow, and Christian is at work. I am at my desk with bright sunshine and lovely fresh air pouring in the open French door. I’m enjoying the weather while we have it, because storms are predicted for tomorrow night. If they bring rain, that will be a blessing. Texas in in a drought, wildfires are racing across the central part of the state, and every green growing thing needs moisture.