A bit of local history and a fond farewell

The Book Ladies say thank you to Peter at The Old Neighborhood Grill

Photo by Carol Roark

In 1965, my then-husband and I moved to Fort Worth because he had a surgical residency at Fort Worth Osteopathic Hospital, on the corner of Montgomery and Camp Bowie. That first year, I worked as secretary to the pathologist at the hospital and, informally, as a pr person. I remember being proud that I started the first in-house newsletter for staff and employees, though I’m sure in those pre-computer days, it was a pretty primitive publication.

I left the hospital when TCU awarded me an NDEA fellowship (those were the days of strong national support for higher education, now sadly gone) to work on a doctorate in English. But the hospital remained a major place in my life until our divorce in 1981 or ’82 (strange I can’t remember the exact year) and even after that. My doctor/brother had an office in the hospital, and I’d go see him occasionally. Good friends like the late Connie and Russ Jenkins kept me on the fringes of the osteopathic world by taking me to various events.

The day officials announced the closing of the hospital, I was in a doctor’s office, and we sat together and had a sad wake. I remember him saying, “I’ve never practiced in any other hospital.”

Last night a thread started on the Fort Worth Memories Facebook page with the question, “Who remembers FWOH?” Answers poured in. You’d be amazed how many people want to tell you what year they were born there and/or when their children were. Many commented on the camaraderie and care at the hospital, but inevitably there were a few people with bad memories. I saw no one else among respondents that I remembered from those days, so I became self-appointed apologist, explaining that when people have suffered the loss of a family member or undergone a severe illness or trauma, their memories are naturally colored by their experience. It’s been an interesting but time-consuming exercise, and the comments have brought back lots of memories, most of them good. In some ways, I long for those days, but then I remind myself I’ve gone on to build such a better life.

This morning, nostalgia of another sort. The Book Ladies, a group I mentioned just the other day, have met regularly at the Old Neighborhood Grill for a monthly breakfast for several years. Now we have word that Peter Schroeder has sold the Grill, new ownership to take effect In January. So this morning, we had a special breakfast to say goodbye, thank you, and God’s speed to Peter. A good turnout, and we presented Peter with a book titled, The Joys of Retirement. It’s a book of blank pages, but each book lady wrote Peter a personal message. Lots of fun.

Topsy-turvy day for me. I started the day with a haircut—my stylist is so kind to come to the cottage until I get back to driving—and was still in pajamas when Carol called to say my presence was required at the Grill. She gave me ten minutes to get out of pajamas and into clothes. So I went, sans makeup but with a cute new haircut, if I do say so. Then, my lunch guest had to cancel at the last minute, so now I’m about to cook that chicken pot pie for my family. Still I got my daily words written, so I’m feeling smug.

Remind me, smug goeth before a fall😊

Pushing out the circle

I seem to be writing about anxiety a lot in the last few days but that’s because I’ve felt its looming presence in my life. One of the things I learned years ago is that you can draw the circle tighter about you or you can gradually push that circle wider. Today was a widen the circle day, but it wasn’t easy.

The second Tuesday of every month I meet a wonderful group of book ladies for breakfast at the nearby Old Neighborhood Grill. This morning I woke in high anxiety over the thought of going to the Grill alone—having Amy F. as a “travel companion” has spoiled me—and weakened me. I know today was like other days in my past—do it today or you may never do it again.

Often when I wake with disquieting thoughts I find it helpful to turn on the TV while I brush my teeth, wash my hair, and get ready for the day. The news takes me out of myself in a good way, and that’s what I did today. Then I set out for the Grill, so late that a friend called and asked if she could get me. By then I was determined.

Parked in the farthest handicapped spot and had a moment of heightened anxiety—couldn’t let go of the pole that held the handicapped sign. And then I took a step and I was off and fine.  It was what I’ve always said—if you could turn your mind off and just act. Enjoyed breakfast and fellowship, and when we were ready to leave my good friend stayed close by ready to offer an arm if I needed it but let me do on my own what I could.

Tuesday nights Jacob and I often meet neighbors at the Grill. He’s had so much baseball lately that he hasn’t been able to go, but we went tonight. For a lot of complicated reasons we walked down the driveway to the garage instead of my usual route out the back door. I haven’t been down that driveway since I fell a year ago, but a nine-year-old hand in mine is a great comfort. Fun dinner, and then Jacob elected to walk home with Mary Dulle. Perfect timing—I parked the car in the garage and was halfway to the gate when they came along. So for me, it was a day of pushing back boundaries.

It was also, as many days will be, a day of business, and I don’t mean writing. Lewis came by and we figured out some insurance paperwork; the bank sent me a list of things they needed, and I spent a good bit of time compiling them; the floor company came to begin work and will be here for two days. I see light at the end of that tunnel, but we still have no building permit for the remodeling. I see all this taking up a lot of time in the future.

But it was a good day, one of accomplishment, and I’m upbeat tonight. Oh—with the gout menu eliminating many favorites—meatloaf (beef), pork cutlet (fried), I had a turkey burger for supper. Good but not something I’d want every week. Deluged today with gout advice—ordered tart cherry pills and will eat more citrus (can’t stand grapefruit). Ate tuna but with a guilty conscience. Someone said some things are triggers for one person but not another, so now I’m trying to think what unusual I might have eaten. Someone said asparagus--tell me it’s not so!

Sometimes the gods smle on you

Linda, one of two whom Murder at Peacock Mansion is dedicated

Yesterday was a rainy, depressingly dark kind of day—one where the weather affected your mood and, if you’re my age, your achy bones. I dreaded the thought of tonight’s book signing and sent out cheerful “Don’t let the rain stop you” messages. During the night we had severe storms—thank you, I slept through them. Jordan promised to call if I was in danger but I guess I wasn’t. Today dawned dark and wet.

But by noon the sun was shining and the world was drying out. Tonight for the launch of my two news books—Texas is Chili Country and Murder at Peacock Mansion—the weather was pleasant if a bit brisk. I had an entourage—Jordan and good friend Linda. We set up a table at the Old Neighborhood Grill, just inside the door. Didn’t get much walk-by traffic but lots of friends came—the Grill was busier than usual on a Tuesday night, and I take some small credit. I sold a fair number of books—not as many people came as I expected but those that did bought several books. The chili book in particular sold in multiple copies, which didn’t surprise me. It’s a perfect Christmas gift. So it was a profitable evening.

More than that, it was a pleasant evening. Unexpected guests, people I loved to visit with, lots of sociability. Some of Jordan’s close friends came, and she spent a lot of time with them; good friends sat at the next table, and when Jordan wasn’t by my side Linda was so I didn’t ever have that awkward moment of an author sitting alone staring at the ceiling. My grandson, however, breezed in with friends and acted like he’d never seen me until I finally went over and introduced myself.

Of course talking up the chili book made me hungry for a pot of chili, and I half promised to do it Sunday night, only to realize I can’t because I am booked into a two-hour chat room that night. Some night soon.

Tonight I’m happily tired. Going to sleep early to face a busy week. And then Thanksgiving, which disrupts everyone’s schedule, will be upon us. My inclination to be a recluse is blown!

Lazy days aren’t just for summer

This morning I woke up, knew I had an 8:30 breakfast group—and rolled over and went back to sleep. I just didn’t want to get up and get going. Finally dragged myself out of bed just in time to hug Jacob before he went to school. Then this afternoon I slept two hours and lounged in bed another half hour, dozing, dreaming, and thinking. The only positive result that came out of that is I made notes for my new novel—the notes are probably 100 words, not an encouraging start on a 70,000-word novel. But it was a lovely day—took time this morning to make ham salad and devil an egg, so I had a wonderful lunch. And email kept me busy a lot of the day.

In line with my new program of improving my mobility, I put a note in the neighborhood e-mail list that I needed someone to do errands--what I didn’t specify is that I wanted someone to do errands in the mornings with me, not for me. A lovely lady, with two kids in middle and high school, responded, and we came to an agreement. But I was overwhelmed with offers, a few from people I didn’t know but many from friends. I thanked each but explained I wanted this to be a business arrangement and not Judy taking advantage of friends. We will have our first outing tomorrow—I made a long-delayed appointment with the audiologist at TCU. And Thursday we’ll go to the hardware and grocery and then, by myself, I’ll meet a friend for lunch. Life is on the upswing, but I am so grateful for the many offers. People are good.

Tonight was neighbors’ night at the Grill, and I was escorted by two young men, ages nine and ten. They were well behaved and did me proud. Full table, so that I didn’t even get to talk to the people at the other end until I went to say goodnight—and remind them of the signing next Tuesday night. Fun, but now it’s time for Jacob and me to go to bed.

The joy of generations

Jamie, with my oldest grandchild, his daughter Maddie

My younger son, Jamie, came for supper tonight. We joke because Jamie is chronically late, so when he said 5:30 I expected him about six at the earliest. He arrived while I was asleep, maybe about two, and set up a temporary office in the sun room where he worked quietly all afternoon. I only woke up at 4:15 when Jordan came in to give him a hug.
The deal was that Jamie would take me to dinner, a belated birthday dinner, but when I said this was Jacob's Grill night he said fine, he'd take both of us to the Grill. For that 5:30 supper, we arrived at the Grill at 7:15
What made the evening for me was watching the two of them together--a son and a grandson. Jamie has daughters, whom he adores, and I know he's glad they have girls. As he said to me once, "Girls are so neat." But there's something about boys too, and Jamie loves his nephews. He owns a toy manufacturer's sales group, so Uncle Jamie always has goodies for the grandkids. Tonight, knowing Jacob's fascination with baseball, it was baseball cards, some of them collectibles. He brought lots to show and let Jacob keep quite a few. Seeing Jacob's enthusiasm about each card was priceless. So was watching the banter between them. After supper, they ended up chipping golf balls on the front lawn. I threatened death and destruction if the "chipped" my lawn, but they didn't.
One more block in that wall of happiness labeled family. I'm so fortunate to have a family who all care about each other. When mine are all together, it doesn't matter what kid belongs to who--they love and care for them all, from "ouchies" to happy moments. If I did something right, I don't know what it was...but I sure am grateful for them.

Yep, it's my zoo and my monkies

The sectional couch in all its glories is put together--after 18 cartons and untold hours of work, mostly by Jordan, Christian and Jay. Note one pillow doesn't match--missing a slipcover. It's not quite finished, because we will link the pieces together after we get the TV in place, and also decide what to do about the hassock (nobody seems to know that word) and the coffee table, which is an antique munitions chest and I really want to keep. But it's done, we can sit on it, and it changes the character of the once-playroom completely. I'm excited about it. No red wine can be drunk on it--house rules. One of my daughters (I'm not naming names) will remember a recent disaster with red wine and a couch!
Other than that, it's been a day. You know the phrase, "Not my zoo, not my monkeys"? Today they were all mine. We were iced in this morning and Jacob was to spend the day. He didn't arrive until eleven and then came accompanied by a dog and a flustered mother. They have two Cavalier King Charles Spaniels, and one was desperately ill--turns out she has pancreatitis and is in the vet's overnight, maybe for two nights. Meantime they didn't want to leave the other dog, Cricky, home alone because the two are very attached and sort of insecure.
Sophie thought it  was fine, even exciting to have Crickey, but Jacob gets upset when Soph jumps on poor passive Crickey, so I have to tell him to chill. He wants to lock Sophie in the office, which she won't stand for. Eventually everyone calmed down, and Jacob did his studies with his dog curled next to him. Sophie gave it up and retreated to her chair.
Friend Carol called wanting to go to lunch to beat off cabin fever, and I explained I couldn't leave two dogs alone, so we had tuna sandwiches here, and Carol swept me a path to the side steps off the porch--by tonight it had all melted anyway and was fine.
Jordan and Christian arrived about five, Christian left Jordan, Jacob and Crickey here, and I eventually left them to go to dinner with friends--Tuesday night at the Neighborhood Grill. With, I must add, a sense of relief. No ice, good dinner, nice companionship, and I came home to a quiet peaceful house.
No idea what tomorrow will bring--except snow. Supposed to melt by ten or so. This has been the week that was for weather and isn't really supposed to get better until the weekend. Yuck.
Who, me? Write? Not a chance. But I did get some work done. Going to sleep early with a clear conscience.

Report from Italy

Jordan is thoroughly enjoying her first sojourn in Europe--a "fam" (familiarity) trip to Italy. She landed in Rom sometime early early Sunday morning and has spend two days seeing the sights. This morning she reported that her workout for the day was to power walk the Spanish Steps. Made me a bit dizzy just looking at them.
She's been all the places tourists should go, though I can't name them--Christian can, because he's been there. But obviously she's having a grand time.
Not sure where she got the rose, but this was taken her first day there.
Meanwhile, back home, Jacob continually asks what time it is in Italy, and today when talk turned to Europe, he asked if his mom was going to Europe. We explained that she was already there, because Italy is in Europe. Great discussion followed--is Scotland in Europe? I say no, it's part of the UK; Christian says that's still Europe. Anyone?
This afternoon Jacob and I were preoccupied with geography closer to home. Can you name the state that borders Washington and Oregon on the east? How many states share a border with Mexico? What's the two-letter abbreviation or Alaska? Jacob suggested AA, but I told him that wouldn't work. We sped through spelling, math, reading, and social sciences because he and his dad have a project to work on tonight at home.
Had a pleasant catch-up dinner with a good friend I hadn't seen in a while. We ate at the Grill, where I'll eat again tomorrow night. I've got to stop eating loaded baked potatoes! So good, so not good for you.
I have done something bad to my left hip--I suspect it's the result of a fall in the driveway last Thursday, but my hip suddenly grabs me from time to time and my legs feel like leaden weights. I talked to my favorite doctor, my brother, and we agreed it's muscular and should get better in a day or two. He laughs because his wife and I both consider ourselves good diagnosticians. But I've lost my oomph for all the things I should do tonight, from wrapping to decorating. Going to stay at my desk and go to bed early.
Tomorrow is another day, and it will be better. Maybe even warmer.

Some thoughts on a social day

I had breakfast, lunch and dinner at the Old Neighborhood Grill today, the small but wonderful restaurant that figures so prominently in my Kelly O'Connell Mysteries.
Breakfast was the monthly meeting of the Book Ladies,, most of us now retired from careers that had something to do with books. We have two authors, me and Carol Nelson Douglas, a former reviewer who has contributed chapters to textbooks, retired librarians, and so on. Sometimes we talk about books--who's reading what, etc.--and sometimes we talk politics. Sometimes, as with most groups of women our age, the talk degenerates into health care but that's rare. Today it turned briefly to the writing careers of Carol and me and how many books we have each written--and then Carol gave us the history of the ebook rights contracts that have tied up profits for so many authors. Trying to be modest about my diet, I had one egg over easy, a thick slice of orange, and half a piece of toast to slop up the yolk.
Lunch with a friend I don't see often enough but we always laugh and have a great time, mostly talking about families and grandchildren. Genie was good enough to help me once with a major injury for a character in one of my books--because she'd had that injury and one of her daughters is a physical therapist. Once again, we were good--all side vegetable dishes.
Tonight was neighbors' night at the Grill, an occasion Jacob rally looks forward to, especially now that friends Subie and Phil Green are back in town and bring Phil's seeing-eye dog, Santiago, to dinner. I'm not sure who Jacob likes best--Phil, Subie, or Santiago. Tonight he went so far as to determine the seating arrangement. I had a slice of meatloaf and some green beans--but I snacked on some of Jacob's fries with ketchup. Surely my diet will forgive.
Came home just in time to meet Jacob's parents and they sat for a glass of wine. So all of a sudden, it was nine o'clock, I hadn't written a word on the novel, and I was too sleepy. But you know the lesson of the day? Enjoy sociability when it comes your way. I can always work. I saw a blurb on msn.com today about how loneliness can lead to an early grave, and tonight I thought how fortunate I am to have such an active social life, so many friends. I don't have drop-dead deadlines except those I impose on myself because I'm compulsive, and probably this is the time of life to relish the joy that comes my way. (Jacob kindly informed the whole table of my age tonight.)
It reminds me of a self-help tape I had for a long time: "Life is Uncertain. Eat Dessert First." The other afternoon Jordan, Subie and I were contemplating my new living room arrangement, when Jordan asked, "Did your realize Jacob just went and helped himself to ice cream?" No, I hadn't, and I really encourage him to ask first--to prevent constant snacking. But before I could protest, she called out, "Jacob, did Juju teach you that sometimes it's okay to eat dessert first?" I honestly did one night recently when he was in a funk. My own lessons come back to haunt me.
But I like today's lesson about enjoying my family and friends at this point in my life. A thousand words a day suddenly doesn't seem that critical..

Anteaters, first frost, and why am I so compulsive?

Thanks to Jacob, I now know more about anteaters than I ever thought I would...or really cared to. He gave his oral presentation today and apparently it went well. I remember dry throat, shaking knees, all that anxiety when I had to stand up in front of a class at his age. He's so much more assured and self-confident.
Preparing for the freeze had me all in a tizzy today, but I realize I owe so much to people who take good care of me. The Bundocks, Lewis and Jim, came and wrapped my pipes, some of which are where I can't get to them. Then Greg came and we put plants inside, put hanging baskets in sheltered corners, and I watered them well. Praying for the best. Watered everything but I know the vinca, fountain grass and other things will go. Brought in all the basil and will preserve it some day soon. (Rally meant to do it today). Harvested parsley (wonderful crop this year) and chives. Guess I've done all I can.
I was also being my most compulsive worst this morning. Needed to go to my doctor's office--20 minutes away-to get something, and decided I absolutely had to go there before my 8:30 breakfast group. So of course I woke up at 5:30, couldn't go back to sleep, got up at 6:30 and was at the dr.'s before they opened up. Back home with ten minutes to spare for a Book Ladies breakfast, which was thoroughly enjoyable. Back home with 45 minutes--the time Greg came--before a 10:00 a.m. interview. The neighbor who interviewed me said I seemed like a very patient and calm person, and I wanted to say, "Boy, have you got the wrong girl!" Then rushed off to an 11:15 lunch with a cheesemonger friend--interested to hear all her reports and exciting plans for the future. She has evidence that cheese makes us healthy, not fat, and she's lost 11 lbs. in 11 mos. A good steady rate
The day went back to normal after that--nap, homework with Jacob--he had a hard time focusing--a brief visit from Jordan, and then Jacob and I were off to the Old Neighborhood Grill for supper with the neighbors. He was delighted to see them, and it was apparently mutual. I am grateful for neighbors who welcome him to an adult dinner and include him in the conversation.
Now, Jordan has been to pick up Jacob, and Sophie and I are settling down to our routine. An early night, I think.

Bad day at Black Rock

Yesterday was indeed a bad day at Black Rock, mostly because of computer glitches. I decided, after long procrastination, to tackle some insurance matters, but my scanner wouldn't send me an email--said it had no connection. Call Staples where I bought it and was told to call Hewlett Packard, which I did--I thought. Turns out I let some outfit called Dial-a-Tech take over my computer and tell me it's a mess, thoroughly corrupted with viruses, etc. and for only $369 they would fix it and give me virus protection for two years. Scariest thing to me was that the tech asked if I did online banking, and I said yes. In retrospect I am banging myself in the head and saying, "Dumb, dumb, and dumber."  I thanked the tech, who I think was in India, and told him I'd call back. Called my son-in-law, the computer consultant, who told me it was horribly wrong and who I'd gotten. All that time I thought I was letting HP take over my computer and that's why I answered the question about online banking. Said son-in-law was so focused on how they got control of my computer and what they did that he never addressed the scanner problem. I changed bank info as best I could, and then I called an official HP tech--who was in India, and I couldn't understand a word she said. She promised to talk more clearly and louder, but I said it was no use In desperation I went into the official HP site and figured out how to scan from there--more trouble than the printer, but it works and this morning I got the insurance business submitted.
But the thought that someone could hack my bank accounts made me so frantic that I was not patient with Jacob and his homework...and he had lots of it. We did the math (a breeze for him), the spelling (a breeze for me), the reading (a pain for him), and then began research on his project on anteaters. We looked at and he took notes on the National Zoo site and we both learned a lot about anteaters--which was not my primary interest at the time. And he wanted instant attention, when I was focused on son-in-law's emails and what to do to protect my bank account.
I fixed grilled cheese for supper, only to be met with "I don't like your grilled cheese. Can I have something else?" I said no, try it. He took a bite and said, "Not too bad actually." But then he didn't eat it or the apple slices because one slice had the husk of a seed still on it--how careless of me! I wouldn't let him get anything else to eat and about eight when he said he was hungry, I offered him the dinner still on the table and he ate half. Mean Juju!
Today was a much better day, though I sort of lazed through the rainy, drizzly hours. Got some work done but not a lot, and ended the day at supper with neighbors at the Grill. It's truly a neighborhood meeting place--ran into a good friend, and then another neighbor joined us and we had a truly interesting discussion. Stayed an hour and a half which I never do.
Ready for bed. The change in time leaves me sleepy in the morning and sleepy at night A no-win situation.

The difference in grilled cheese sandwiches

Lesson learned. Never take a picky child to an even semi-sophisticated restaurant. Tonight friend Carol and I took Jacob to the Magnolia Cheese Company for supper. I had called ahead to be sure they could do a plain grilled cheese, since that's one thing Jacob will eat--usually. Turns out there's grilled cheese and then there's, "I don't like it." When he made that pronouncement, I tasted it--and darned if it wasn't the best grilled cheese I've had in a while. Of course, he wouldn't touch the kale chips that came with it--don't think the child has ever met kale in his life.
Recently my brother pulled into the parking lot of our local deli, Carshon's, and Jacob announced that he didn't like their grilled cheese. I shushed him and said Uncle John wanted lox and cream cheese and the rest of us liked Carshon's a lot. Jacob apparently only likes the cheese sandwiches at the Old Neighborhood Grill and The Star Café. When I told him earlier this week we were going to The Star with Aunt Betty, he said, "Oh, good. I like their grilled cheese."
To me, a grilled cheese is a grilled cheese, maybe with some rare exceptions. I wouldn't call myself a gourmand, but I know good food from ordinary. I can distinguish between say bottled pasta sauce and the real, homemade thing, or between bottled salad dressing and a good vinaigrette. And I relish the occasional fancy dish, such as brie with jalapeno salsa or those rare lamb chops the other night.  But grilled cheese?
When Jacob asked what dessert they had I told him cheesecake and bread pudding. "I think I'll try cheesecake," he said. "Have you ever had it?" The answer was no. I wasn't about to give him a dessert of any kind if he didn't eat his supper, let alone something he probably wouldn't eat. Carol's comment that it was chevre cheesecake (she said goat) squelched any argument on his part.
We came home and I fixed a peanut butter and honey sandwich and followed it with a bit of vanilla ice cream. Can he go through life eating grilled cheese and hot dogs at the Grill or The Star?

The first day of school--and some trivia

Actually, I think Jacob looks apprehensive,

and I look grim.

We both got over it.

 

Yesterday got away from me, what with welcome calls to make for the church, corrections on a manuscript I’m editing, a blog I forgot I had to write (which sent me scurrying to the kitchen this morning so I’d have a casserole to take a picture of), and an occasional spell with my work-in-progress. No Judy’s Stew.

But those of you who read this regularly know I wouldn’t forget the first day of school. I sent good wishes to all my grandchildren—have had responses from two families. Megan reported before the fact that her boys were really excited, and Jamie and Mel both reported that the girls were excited (though Maddie, at fourteen, pretended to be blasé) and ended up the first night fighting over space at the kitchen table to do homework. The year is under way.

Of course, I was most involved in Jacob’s first day. In fact, I had orders to be in the driveway, dressed and “cute,” by 7:50 yesterday morning. Trailed along while Jordan took Jacob to his new classroom—she would have forgotten to introduce me to the teacher as the afternoon pick-up person if I didn’t remind her. But all went well, and Jacob seemed quite happy in his classroom. He has a teacher we didn’t know, but she said she’d seen him in the halls and was delighted to have him in her class.

Maybe I forgot to write about it because I had to rush him home, shove a chocolate pudding into him, and make him brush his teeth, so he could head off to the dentist with his dad. Today it was less of a rush but still a time crunch to get him ready for Little League practice. Poor kid said, “I just want to quit everything but school.” I bit my tongue to keep from saying, “Amen.”

Today when he was changing clothes, Jacob had a bit of an attitude—okay, a lot of attitude. I’ll wait out the week but there’s going to be a new regime around here. Jordan keeps saying, “You’re were so tough as a mom. What happened to you?” I don’t think I was really that tough, but she seems to think it’s a good thing.

Meantime, I made progress today on the work-in-progress and even came up with a new title. How does Living with Secrets strike you? And I did make a good casserole—look for it Thursday on http://www.Chickletsinthekitchen.com. Yes, I’ll remind everyone. And the exterminator came—we sincerely hope he took care of the rats, but I’m pleased that he was extra careful of my dog’s safety. Final achievement—and this is Elizabeth’s—we ordered a case of our special tuna and a case of salmon from the Pisces cannery. My pocket book is depleted but my salivary anticipation is high. I’ll post about that special fish sometime.

Peace and a happy evening to all. I’m off to the Old Neighborhood Grill for neighbors’ night. Pork cutlets sound so good. Notice how often food crosses my mind?