Killing the fatted calf...or not

Sometimes, with apologies to Jordan and all she does for me, I think the child who stays close to home gets taken for granted while we trot out the fatted calf for the one who doesn't visit often. That's sort of how I felt last night when Colin (Houston) and his family plus another family stopped to spend the night on their way from Santa Fe to Houston. They arrived about 8:45 and there was no fatted calf--dry cereal they brought with them was more like it. My offers of wine, beer, and ice cream were politely declined. But oh my goodness, the children and Sophie had a wild picnic, and this morning the living room was a mine field of dog toys which sweet Morgan promptly cleaned up for me, dumping them all into Sophie's toy basket.

Colin did his three chores--pass on a couple of paintings I have no place for and thought he might take home, spray WD 40 on the 80-year-old trike that the kids, no matter how big, continue to ride, and rearrange my cupboard so that the crock pot is not high up where I have to climb on a stool to get it. (Sons are so helpful!)
Jordan and Jacob arrived while I was still dozing, and they were amazingly quiet. But we got everyone dressed, cars loaded, Jordan off to work, and the rest of us went to Carshon's, Colin's favorite, where, to his delight, he could have lunch for breakfast. His friends had never been anywhere like it and loved the food. The kids--five of them including Jacob--had a high old time at their own table. No wonder the owner didn't recognize me and when she did said, "I wondered who all those people were." We lingered almost two hours over breakfast, and when we came home all thoughts of taking Jacob someplace wonderful had evaporated. I was tired.
Tonight I capped off the day with a  happy hour with Jordan, followed by dinner with two good friends. We went to Little Red Wasp where they have the world's best hot dogs--hmmm, Stag's Leap Chardonnay and hot dogs! Not to be beat.
It's early to bed for me tonight and though I'd like to say back to work tomorrow that doesn't quite work. There will be 16 at the house for enchiladas celebrating Jordan's [no, I'm not forty] birthday on Sunday. Lots of work to do!

Labor Day

Hot and humid, but we celebrated Labor Day with a porch party tonight--my local children and grandchild and neighbors. I created a hot dog bar with little cards detailing the toppings for different kinds of dogs--Mexican, Chicago, German, Franks and Beans, Coney Dogs. Watch Potluck with Judy next week for more details. But hot as it was, it was pleasant to sit on the porch and trade banter. Jacob was bored beause there were no other kids and finally retreated to the TV--he'd had a long day and played hard with his cousins in Coppell. The rest of us were lazy and tired, full and content. Wine was drunk, beer was sipped, and too much food eaten.
But I am struck with the fragility of life tonight. My friend who's in the midst of a life change is staying in my garage apartment. I am so glad I can offer this help and a place of refuge, and I'm grateful for the company, but I grieve for the changes she's going through. No matter how the current crisis comes out, her life will never again be the same. She's strong, and she'll be fine--but I feel like this is happening to one of my own children. My neighbor Jay is just back from Vermont where he went for a family conference about his father's health--apparently all seven children met. His dad knows he has problems, knows therapy and rehab work will prolong his life, but won't do it. He goes home today or tomorrow with full-time medical care--a good situation but one with an inevitable outcome. A neighbor who was supposed to join us tonight couldn't because of health. And Christian's grandmother died last night in a rehab facility, two days shy of her 95th birthday. I hope her family can take comfort in the fact that she was probably just done, just tired. A lifelong friend is close to marking the one-year anniversay of the death of her husband--a true love match if I ever saw one, and he was too young to leave us. So much sadness.
I sense that change and a certain inevitability are all around us. I'm not depressed by it in the way of thinking that my turn is next, but I am saddened by what happens to people. Not sure how to say this, but some people obsess over the smallest changes in their lives. Sort of "Don't park in my parking space" when there are such larger life changes all around us. Seeing those larger changes makes you--or should make you--put life in perspective.
I guess I pray for all of us tonight a sense of life's beauty...and its fragility. My hope, for myself and others, is to learn to treasure the glory of the moment, the day, and give thanks. I always liked the saying, "Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first." Maybe that sums up what I'm thinking.
Awk! I'm no good at philosphizing, but there's a certain blue mood around me tonight, in spite of the pleasant time and good company.

Name the hot dog--and win a free book

Hot dogs have moved from the ballpark to the world of haute cuisine--well, almost. There are a hundred things you can do with a plain old hot dog these days--from the spiral cut and roasted to the muffaletta dog with marinated olives and peppers. I personally like Hebrew National hot dogs with sauerkraut and a sharp, good mustard--not Kraft salad mustard, thank  you very much.
I've decided a character in the fourth Kelly O'Connell Mystery is going to open an upscale (?) hot dog restaurant on what has become restaurant row in Kelly's neighborhood--alongside a bistro, a country Italian restaurant, a long-established place serving Middle Eastern food, a high-brow taco place. She'll serve a wide variety of hot dogs--Thai style with Sriracha and other things, Greek with yogurt, cucumber, and Greek salad dressing, Dixie featuring black-eyed peas, bell pepper, and jalopeno. I'm sure she'll think of other varieties. And of course, chili dogs and Chicago style with mustard, sweet and dill pickles, onion, and peppers. I remember a drive-up stand in Santa Fe called "The Chicago Dog" but I have something more than a drive-up in mind,though small, very few seats.
My problem is what to call the restaurant? I googled hot dog restaurants and was amazed at the number of them across the country. I'm not quite as close to cutting edge as I thought, except that I know there's none in my immediate area, which is pretty much Kelly's area. So this is a viable idea--hey, if I quit writing I might do that myself. Serve beer with them.
But back to my point. I looked at names of restaurants across the country and most were unimaginative. Sometimes they were the owner's name, like "Mike's Place."  A lot were "Dog House" or "Dog Stand." I want something more original. In the book I ask the young girls to think of a name, but then of course in the long run I'd have to come up with it. The best my fictional characters came up with us "Puttin' On The Dog" which one said sounded like a grooming parlor. So I  thought why not ask readers to come up with a really clever name.
So please send ideas to me at j.alter@tcu.edu. I'll look forward to suggestions until September 15. I admit the winner will be chosen by me, probably in conjunction with my local daughter. But the winner will get a free copy of the as-yet unnamed fourth Kelly O'Connell Mystery, due next April.
I'm kind of getting carried away with this hot dog idea. Also send me any new ideas you have for toppings. I'll credit those in the book.

A food post

Do you remember how good hot dogs are? I rarely eat them, thinking they're not on my diet, but tonight Jordan and Christian and Jacob came for dinner and I grilled Hebrew National hot dogs and made German potato salad. Christian walked in and said, "My favorite potatoes." The hot dog tasted soooo good, with Dijon, kraut and a whole wheat bun. And it wasn't that many Weight Watchers points. One night, months ago, I was having neighbors in for a hot dog dinner, and I have lots of Hebrew National left in my freezer. I'll start eating them now.
The reason for this dinner visit was to fix Jacob a "big boy" bed in what he considers "his" room--my guest room. It messes up the arrangement of furniture, but I hope it will only take a few months before he can sleep on the trundle bed in the famiily room--we stole the mattress for his big boy bed. He seemed thrilled with it. We'll see tomorrow when he comes to spend the night. Ever since he's slept in a big boy bed at home, he has quit the tantrums and trashing the room. I face tomorrow with a bit of trepidation.
Today was a day when I was a day late and a dollar short all day--a haircut, errands to the TCU library, the vet and the grocery took me all morning. Then I came home to watch a webinair on the Google Book Settlement--and ended, as I always do, more confused than ever. I seemed to have a lot of odd ends and bits on my desk to take care of. So tonight I'm going to read that book I keep trying to get back to.
The furor over President Obama's address to school children amazes me, although Christian said tonight that the same thing happened when George W. Bush made the same address early in his administration--has my memory become partisan? I don't remember that at all. But I am appalled by the outrage. My son Jamie put it well on his post on Facebook, saying he thought it was time for that kind of outreach from the White House. Last Sunday on the George Stephanopoulus show George Will, the arch-conservative, was asked a question (about health care, maybe?) which he side-stepped by saying, "We conservatives believe that things are the way are for a reason." Implicit in that, to me, is a resistance to change, when I believe, with many others, that change is healthy and the only way we can move ahead. Is our health care system in trouble? Absolutely. Is the proposed legislation the right answer--who can know, but you have to start somewhere.