Last night my
Austin daughter called and gave me a tour of their house, still under
construction but getting closer and now, for the first time, with electricity
so she could show it off. Their house had major structural problems and bigtime
plumbing—sewage—problems. But they loved the location, so they are building a
new house on the old foundation, with lots of improvements and an almost full
second story in place of the previous one room. Meantime, she, her husband, and
two teenage sons are living in a two-room apartment over their garage—and seem
quite cheerful about it. When they finally get into the new house, probably the
end of May, they will have been in the apartment for fifteen months.
Using Facetime on
her phone, Megan walked me through the new house, accompanied by Eddie, their
miniature poodle. Up a lovely flight of stairs (replacing a circular staircase which
I climbed, with trepidaton, for years). The boys each have a bedroom up there,
with a full bath, and there is a common room. Downstairs the pattern is more
familiar but such things as windows are a huge improvement (the old house was
built in the Forties which I don’t consider old, since my house will be a
hundred in a couple of years). But much of theirs was dated. Megan will have
her glorious big kitchen, and they will have a proper master suite, instead of
the tiny closets they had to share with the boys. Expansive windows look out on
the pool from the living area and to the street from the dining area. At least
one window in each room in the house can be opened to catch the breeze. The
architects have done clever things with windows in unexpected places that open
the house up to the outside. I am so anxious to see it in its finished state.
Today I ran some
errands, so I listened to PBS in the car. I’ve been watching the impeachment
hearings sporadically, especially when Adam Schiff was speaking—he is my new
hero: so articulate, such presence, so well organized, and so passionate about
what he believes. But today was the first time I really paid attention to some
of the other managers, and they were all spot on, very convincing. I am angry
about Republican senators who left, did crossword puzzles, read books, and generally
ignored the procedures. They ought to be arrested for ignoring the oath they
just took.
My take on it? The
prosecutors have been absolutely convincing that trump violated his oath of
office and the constitutional limits set on a presidency, the separation of powers among the three
branches of the government. Clearly, he obstructed justice. The senators if
they have any conscience will vote for more witnesses and the withheld
documents that trump is bragging he has. Unless those by some miracle exonerate
him, they should vote to remove him. They probably won’t, but I firmly believe retribution
will hit them hard. Don’t mess with karma.
I got an early
start on fancy weekend eating. Last night I fixed myself eggs Benedict—using some
Christmas dinner rolls I had in the freezer, smoked salmon, two eggs that got
poached perfectly right, and store-bought Hollandaise sauce (shhh! don’t tell
on me!).
Tonight, Jordan
and I sliced a rotisseries chicken and used that salsa verde on it that was in
my Gourmet on a Hot Plate column last night. Plus we had half an avocado and
half an artichoke, with the same Hollandaise. Living high on the hog—and feeling
overfed.
Now I need a nap.
I had good writing news today, but I’ll save it for tomorrow. Suffice to say, I
will sleep happy tonight.
I did finalize my
winter newsletter today. If anyone reading this, isn’t on the subscriber list
and would like to be, please send me your name and email at j.alter@tcu.edu. I promise I don’t flood your
mailbox with newsletters—probably four short ones a year.
‘Night all and
sweet dreams.
