Visit from an old and dear friend-and a yoga lesson

Elizabeth came home for a visit tonight. Oh, I know her home is in Hurst with her parents, but she lived in my cottage for a year and I consider this one of her homes, especially now that she lives in Pennsylvania. The neighbors, all fond of her, gathered and we had a jolly happy hour. Elizabeth and Jacob were especially close friends. When she lived here, he’d come in from school in the afternoon and ask, “Can I go see Elizabeth?”

Tonight it’s supposed to snow in the Philadelphia area, so Elizabeth was especially pleased to have happy hour on the deck, with pleasant temperature and just a bit of a breeze. Sophie was also especially fond of Elizabeth and they had a good reunion.

Later after everyone else had left, she and I caught up on each other’s families and lives and goings on. It was like old times when we’d meet on the deck for wine about 9:30 at night. Thoroughly relaxed, thoroughly comfortable with each other—it doesn’t get much better than that. I do remember the night a baby rat fell out of a tree and darn near landed in her wine.

We first met when Elizabeth, a non-traditional student (read older) came to TCU Press as a work-study student. Don’t hold me to this figure, but I suspect it was almost twenty-five years ago. We clicked, though I am some thirty-plus years older than she is. But we’ve been friends ever since. And when she lived here, she became part of my inner circle of neighborhood friends.

Tonight the once-student was the teacher. Some six, seven, eight years ago she first taught me yoga since she had become a certified yoga teacher. I practiced my yoga faithfully almost every day for years but this past year mobility problems, a painful leg and hip have kept me from it. As you may know I’ve been in physical therapy twice in the past year. But tonight, with the PT therapist’s blessing, I went back to yoga. I expected Elizabeth to give me a brush-up on the routine I’ve always done. Instead we did a whole new set of poses designed to strengthen my ankle and legs and stretch my back. This time, she stressed holding some poses as long as I was comfortable. It was an easy workout that probably did me more good than I realize, and I look forward to following the new routine.

A thoroughly pleasant day, and I’m ready for bed.

Where Has Summer Gone?

Is it Indian summer yet? Somehow I can’t shed my summer afternoon sleepiness. The last two days, Jacob went home with buddies, and I came home, fresh from a nap, and promptly went back to bed. Today I slept at least another hour.

Somehow this summer I seem to have forgotten how to do Texas summers. Now that it’s almost over—Labor Day marks the unofficial end for most of us—I’m back in the swing of things. I’ve always, every summer, watered my porch plants first thing. This year, my coleus (I have a shady porch) spoke to me in no uncertain terms about its need for water. Jordan would come by in the late afternoon and stop to water before she came in the house. Finally, about the first of August, I got in the swing of things and watered every morning. Yesterday because of an appt. that required an early departure, I forgot. By evening one coleus in particular looked pitiful—though this morning when I went out to water it had perked up a bit.

Usually in summer, my front porch and the windows in the family room are alive with geckos. This summer, my theme song is “Where have all the geckos gone?” I did finally see on fat little translucent fellow on the window in the family room. When it’s dark and the outdoor lights are on, their little bodies are translucent. Once I had a gecko in my bathroom—every morning when I sat on the commode, he’d come out to visit. I miss him, and I can’t help wondering if the disappearance of geckos is like the threat to bees—due to all those pesticides we use.

Another summer thing I forgot—fruit salads, with all the wonderful summer fruits. I’m not much on watermelon but I love a good, sweet cantaloupe, with halved strawberries, sliced peaches, blueberries, and sliced bananas. Yet, it’s only been the last two or three weeks that I’ve made fruit salads, and I noticed this weekend that the blueberries were sometimes a little tart. I never put raspberries in salads because they’re fragile and tend to get overwhelmed—besides I hide them in the back of the fridge for myself. I don’t buy mango either, as it’s so hard to cut up and the already cut-up fruit in the grocery tends to be under-ripe. But I’ve let the best pf summer foods slip by except for corn on the cob.

In the spring it was usually too wet to be on the deck; then it was too hot. We’ve gotten no use out of it since early spring, and I’m hoping fall will bring deck weather. Jacob suggested tonight he’d like to get rid of the table and chairs so it could be a play deck. Not likely. Weather had also prevented me from putting the top down on my convertible, though that’s no unusual for Texas summers. Lately, I can tell summer is beginning to leave because if I have to go somewhere early, I drive with the top down—it has a lovely, soothing effect.

Will I miss summer? Not the heat, nor the drought that is back upon us. But the fruits and vegetables and the light summer meals? Those long afternoon naps and lazy days in which I still got a lot done? Yes, I’ll miss those.

But the October’s bright blue skies are pretty neat. And I have some fall flowers about to bloom in my front yard.

 

 

High Times in Cowtown

Hard to tell who had more fun in Cowtown tonight. Jordan cut short her Florida trip to come home and accompany Christian to the Cowtown Ball. I thought it would be in one of the luxury hotels, but from this photo it appears not. My cute Cowtown couple. I'll have to get details tomorrow.
Meantime I was having a lovely relaxed dinner on the deck with neighbors Jay and Susan. They trimmed back the logustrums that border our properties and took one new low limb off the oak tree which is mine and intrudes on their property. And then they apologized for being so slow to do it!
So as a thank you, I fixed a special dinner--salmon in anchovy butter (I completely forgot the capers but sometimes I think anchovies and capers fight for dominance--tonight the anchovies were definitely there but subtle). I splurged on Coho salmon. Appetizer was a spinach/artichoke dip from Reese that I found once in my grocery store. Apparently it  was a one-time special, so I got three jars but have never found it again. Got to look for it.  As a side dish I fixed something I'd wanted to do for a along time--creamed new potatoes and green peas. Wonderful! But I'm afraid I made enough for Coxie's Army. Jay, who scorns leftovers. took some home for his Monday night supper.

Susan took this picture of her plate. Jay took several that picturesquely included the bread, but when he sent them to me, they were all sideways, and I had no idea how to turn them. So that was our dinner.
It was a lovely night to sit on the deck--just the right temperature. Sophie loved being out there with us though she occasionally got a bit demanding--her dinner, which was out in my office, but she doesn't like to eat alone,, and then her evening treat which she thinks follows dinner. But Jay threw her ball, and she ran around the yard and enjoyed the company. So did I.
I am so blessed with neighbors, friends and family--whenever I get a bit blue about my aching back or my lack of confidence in walking, I remind myself how much I have to be grateful for.

Elizabeth's Legacy

For twenty years, my back yard was a dog yard. I mowed it, cleaned up after the dogs, and left it alone. The city did sewer work one year, dug a huge hole (two dogs fell in), and tore out some mature photina, replacing them with 3-gallon plants which the male dogs promptly peed on and killed. The grass went from weeds to bare. It was an eyesore.
By this spring Greg, my all-purpose lawn guy/neighbor/friend, had restored the grass, and Elizabeth began putting plants at the corner of the apartment and scattering a bit of statuary--mostly Buddhas--around the yard. She hung bird feeders in the trees, and a birdcage. Then Jordan brought a table they were not using, and we dragged plastic chairs out of the garage storage space. Elizabeth, Jordan and I began to have happy hour out there.

Yard table--we can't figure out what happened to the fourth chair

 

In the back of my mind, I'd always toyed with the idea of a deck outside the back door but to look at what? A barren waste? But now I could see a garden beginning to emerge. The idea of a deck had more appeal, so I talked to the contractor who keeps my house in shape, and he drew up plans. By my birthday in mid-July we were celebrating with dinner on the deck and tables on the lawn.

I love the stepping stones to nowhere

They used to go from the apartment to the back door so the boys wouldn't bring in mud

 

The yard now sports a bottle tree--Jacob and Elizabeth put it up Sunday, a yard flag, new rose bushes that will grow tall and bushy and block out the garage behind us.

Bottle tree--note to the left a rose bush that will be much bigger next year

and to the right Turk's cap

 

For the birthday party, Susan cleaned up the bed on their side of the yard and laid pavers out to form a bed, though it's so shady coleus may be the only thing that will grow there. I found a cherub-like figure in the back of my closet to take the place of the Buddhas that are moving to Pennsylvania, and Melinda from my office brought me a wonderful flying purple pig.

The deck table has all the amenities--a bug-repellent lantern that really works, two candle-like lamps in iron containers, a small fountain that bubbles and gurgles. Oh, and at some cost, we have electric power. We need to deck the deck with tiny white lights.

 

The yard flag, with Susan's new bed to the right; doghouse in front right

with a child's chair Susan added for whimsy



The yard is still a work in progress, but it's changed so much over one summer. And if Elizabeth hadn't put out those petunias and statues, it never would have happened. Her legacy, of course, goes far beyond the tangible things of the garden to deeper levels of friendship and sharing. It's been a great year for each of us, and I'm sad that just as we've figured out a pretty good way to balance our independent lives with living on the same property, she's moving. She believes the Universe moves as it should; I believe God has a plan for each of us. We're moving on, but I can sit on my deck and stare at my garden and silently thank her.
Actually we've decided I can sit on the deck, and she can sit on her patio, each of us with wine, and share our usual evening catch-up sessions by texting.