Chronicle of an amaryllis

 

My amaryllis this morning
Note the metal ring holding the second stalk
Ignore the junky desk--at least it's near a window

Because of Christmas in Austin and then, on return, covid and quarantine and who knows what else, I was late in starting the Christmas amaryllis I was given. But once I started it, it took off bigtime. Last night, Subie and Phil were here, and I was bemoaning my need for another dowel road since the plant is growing so fast. Today Subie brought me one that is a metal rod with a loop to gently hold the blooming stalk. I swear the plant has burst out more this evening than this morning, but I couldn’t capture the growth on camera.

Coincidentally, Jordan and I had given Subie an amaryllis for Christmas. True confession: it was one we happened on early in the shopping season. To my embarrassment, she said last night that when she opened it, it had already bloomed without growing a stalk. I wish she had taken a picture, but she said there was a cluster of blooms at the base. And now it has sprouted on entirely new plant, which she is nursing along.

I found the almost-blooming amaryllis a cheerful portent on this partly cloudy day with the threat of all of winter’s worst weapons hanging over us. But my day was compromised again by computer stuff. This morning, after one or two false starts, the Wi-Fi connection held all morning, so I put off calling AT&T so I could work while I had the connection. But this afternoon, it went on, off, on, off—as fast as I could blink. So I called. Had to call the automated man who three times told me he could fix it, and all I had to do was subscribe to something for seven more dollars a month. He would say just go to this website, and I ended up screaming, “I can’t, because I don’t have a connection.” I also screamed, “Talk to a person.”

Finally in a brief moment of connectivity I found a different 800 number and called. Best call I’ve ever had with AT&T, a company that generally raises my blood pressure fifteen notches. A young lady in whatever country—I had to ask her to speak up and slowly—said if I would be patient, she could clear the connection, whatever that means. And that’s where I was, being patient, when Mary came for happy hour.

The first fix the young lady tried didn’t work but the second seemed to, and so far I have Wi-Fi. So happy. It’s really impossible to do almost anything without it.

Mary and I had a good visit with lots of talk about cooking and plentiful advice from her about using my new air fryer. I’m about ready to try the marinated chicken drumettes I have in the freezer. She also watered the poinsettia that’s in a corner by the couch where I can’t get to it and found two books on my shelves that she wants to read.

And another piece of good news today—my car came home! I looked out this afternoon, and there it was in the driveway. Made me sad and nostalgic for a moment. It has been at a repair shop Christian uses for months—I got really suspicious. Was the guy driving it? Selling it for parts? What could possibly be taking that long? And how much would it cost me? Christian tried to reassure me, but I was a nag about it. So today, it’s home, the bill is reasonable, and Jordan wants to drive it from time to time. I thought we were going to sell it, but if she needs it—her car too is old and not always reliable—that’s okay. At least I have it where I can see it.

In a day of good omens, I reached the 20K mark on my novel-in-progress. Well, okay, it’s really 19, 967 so I am thirty-three words short, but, hey! I‘ll make those up tomorrow. The big deal to me is that I now have one-third of a novel. Still plugging along, wondering where it is going to take me next, what Irene has up her sleeve.

So, it’s been a good day. I’m afraid my feelings of optimist may get beaten down by rain, ice, sleet, and snow, but I hope to stay cozy in the cottage and keep on keeping on. I have lots of food—and Jordan will do a curbside pickup tomorrow. We have menus planned for the next few days, and we’ll be fine. I have a novel to write and lots of good books to read.

Y’all stay safe and warm. Take care of animals, and plants, and yourselves. Watch out for the elderly in your neighborhood. Arctic storms are one of those times when we all need to look out for each other.

 

 

Cows, football, and the party's over

The Alter and Peckham families--a terrific crew

My family and I spent Friday at my brother’s ranch with most of his family. We number close to 30—fifteen adults and thirteen children of varying ages. Getting us together is often like herding cats but this opportunity came up suddenly and worked well. The girls tried to make it work-free for Cindy but there’s no stopping her. Jenn, my niece, did a lot of the work, and Colin brought potato casserole. John cooked tenderloins, and with an array of snacks, we ate way too much.

John had promised good weather so the kids could play outdoors. Good luck with that—when I work that morning it was wet, cold, and gloomy. But as a woman I knew used to say, “It faired off” into a pleasant day…and the kids did mostly disappear outside. It tickles me to ask Jordan if she knows where her child is and she says no but appears completely unconcerned.

For the adults, the attraction was twofold—a chance to be together and a focus on the TCU/UT football game. My kids grew up with their cousins close by---Sunday dinner every week. So though they rarely see each other these days, they are tightly bound by memories.

We have only one diehard UT fan among us—Megan’s husband Brandon. I didn’t realize before but he’s a vocal fan—very. Three of my four went to TCU as did Jenn; her husband grew up in a TCU family. So B. was outnumbered but undaunted. Until he grew quieter as the game progressed. In those agonizing, drawn-out last few minutes, he said to me “I have never seen a team so utterly defeated.” And they were—heads hanging, some in tears. What made it so poignant was the knowledge that Coach Charlie Strong would be replaced…and he was promptly on Saturday. But he conducted himself throughout the game with dignity and grace, and I kept thinking what an impossible position he was in.

It may well have been the first game I watched in years. I brought my iPad and read my book, but watched with one ear, more drawn by the drama of the rivalry and the coach’s awful position than by the technicalities of football, which I don’t pretend to understand. Of course, I wanted TCU to win and was cheered when they did.

Today, everyone’s gone home. After family leaves, it’s sort of like coming down from a high. You do the things you ignored and need to, but your mind wanders to special moments—watching my brother’s grands and realizing they are as close to each other as mine, brunch (at 12:30) at Ol’ South and watching best buddies Ford and Jacob have a big-time disagreement, talks with various of my children at different times, often late at night; listening to the  young mothers giggle over their concerns and joys, their voices increased a bit by wine; falling into bed at night grateful for all of them and optimistic about the days ahead, but so ready to sleep.

The cottage is perfect for visits like this—the family stays mostly in the main house, where it’s generally too noisy for me; but one by one or several at a time they wander out to the cottage, where I welcome their company. Maddie, my oldest grand, joins the adult conversations as a matter of course; her younger sister swings either way but this weekend was mostly drawn to the X-box games with her younger cousins.

The Tomball Alters took my car, promising to have it tuned and brightened.

Here, Morgan and Kegan look pretty pleased to be on the

way to Tomball in a convertible.

Today was back to business for me—I have quite a bit of work on my desk (including Christmas) but got some done today. I’m reading a mystery I want to finish before I dig into editing a lengthy manuscript, so I look forward to reading—when work becomes pleasure.

Okay, guys, let’s charge ahead into Christmas, the most joyous season. I’m looking forward to it a lot and hope you are too.