Milestone day for the Burtons

 

Tonight, as I write, Jacob is at his first prom—the Nolan High School Junior/Senior prom. He and two friends left for Keller (a northern suburb) at 3:30, which I found astounding. I had thought they were leaving at 5:30, so about four I reminded Christian pictures would be nice, but I’d like a quick, in-person glimpse. He replied that I was already too late—they left while I was napping. Doubt I can get Jacob to model the tux again, so I will settle for the pictures.

But I guess there was picture taking in Keller, followed by a dinner, followed by the prom which was somewhere in Keller rather than at the school in East Fort Worth. Then there was to be an after-party back in Fort Worth, not far from here. Big excitement, several trips to the tux rental store, etc. I asked his parents and finally Jacob about the girl who invited him and was rewarded with “She’s a girl I know.” Glad it’s not a stranger! The only other comment he offered was, “I’m really excited about it.” I’m anxious to hear a

report tomorrow, though I don’t know that he’ll be any more loquacious.

By serendipity I was reading some old blogs tonight and of course Jacob was prominent in many of them—the New Year’s Eves we shared, dinners that were memorable and/or disasters, storms we weathered. In one, I came across this picture of him ready for his first Cotillion. If he ever sees I’ve posted it, he will undoubtedly not be pleased. It’s easier for me to accept that my other grands have grown and changed, because I didn’t see as much of them when they were younger. Jacob I saw every day, so the change was gradual but when I contrast today with six, seven or eight years ago, it’s pretty dramatic—and calls up a bit of nostalgia.

Otherwise, it’s been a quiet day—I wrote a book review of All Stirred Up, by Brianne Moore, a culinary novel set in Edinburgh and involving a tangled romantic relationship but much more—Edinburgh daily life, the high-end restaurant scene, and lots of food. A really good read. I answered emails, sent some out, corresponded with an editor—nothing remarkable.

Tonight, I was planning to have a leftover salmon burger for supper, having already had one for lunch. Then I decided I really had a taste for barbecue, but Jordan and Christian were going out. So then I decided I wanted spinach and scrambled eggs—in the interest of efficiency, I tried to bake them together. An awful experiment. One of my worst—and I’d put so much good butter into it. My dinner, after a few bites of that, was cheese toast and salted caramels.

My new word for the day: frumious. It means very angry and when I saw it online it was used in the context of someone who is always frumious. Comes, not unexpectedly, from Lewis Carroll’s “Jabberwocky.” I can’t wait to ask someone, “Why are you always so frumious?”

Happy Saturday night. I’m off to read Mastering the Art of French Murder.