Fort Worth' s iconic Mexican restaurant

There's nothing like overeating at Joe T. Garcia's to start a Sunday with a smile. Jordan, Christian, and David (Jordan's longtime good friend and first high school boyfriend) and I had brunch there. Christian ordered migas, but we had "the dinner"--cheese nachos (huge), cheese enchiladas, guac, rice, beans, and two small tacos. I didn't eat the rice and gave the tacos to Christian--color me righteous. Almost fifty years ago my first introduction to Tex-Mex was at Joe T.’s. After all, I grew up in Chicago and never ate Mexican food at all. My ex and I went to professional meetings there, and I slowly learned to eat cheese enchiladas, tacos, and guacamole. To this day I scrape the chilies off the cheese nachos. But the thing I love best is the beans. Rumor is that at Joe T.’s the beans are “boracchio,” made with beer. I know they’re also made with lard and are as bad for you as chopped liver, but I do like them.
Joe T.'s has a fascinating history. It began as a grocery store where the original Joe T.'s wife also fixed enchiladas and tamales for workers at nearby sites on the North Side. Gradually it grew and grew as various generations of the Garcia and Lancarte families took over the business. Today it encompasses almost a city block, with outdoor seating in gardens that in spring and summer are lush and beautiful. The restaurant draws celebrities and every other rehearsal dinner in Fort Worth. On a warm spring night, the wait is incredible but well worth it. But if you live in Fort Worth, you know all that.
It made a pleasant start to the day. I slept late--actually I woke up and wondered why it was so light. One look at the clock told me. I read emails, Facebook and the paper, fed the dogs, made the bed, and it was lunch time. Home to work on those galleys.
Joel is less on my mind today, though emails from my sister-in-law have upset me and new details keep springing up. But I'm trying to put it behind me. I am sorry that my four kids will to go to California next weekend for some kind of memorial service, but I'll have an "in-law" weekend. Their spouses and children plan to come for rodeo and stock show.
I have come to one conclusion--and after this the subject is dropped from this blog. My parents may have shaped the kind of person I am, but Joel set the course for my life: without him, I would not be in Texas, and I would not have my children. And if he hadn't left, I wouldn't have had the good career I've had. My life is good, so a tip of the hat to hime for all that.
Now I'm moving on.

Neighbors

Neighbors are like relatives--you don't get to choose them. But I've been as lucky with neighbors (recently) as I am with relatives. For several years I had college students living to the east--some were really nice and friendly, others were a pain. On the other side was an elderly and eccentric man who was so lonely he loved to talk. I felt most guilty that I didn't encourage him but I didn't want to take him to adopt.
Two good things happened--Jay and Susan bought the house to the west and comletely redid it. It's wonderful, and they're great neighbors. Then Sue moved in on the other side, and when I heard about it I thought, "Oh dear, a single mom with two children who will probably be noisy." Not at all. The children are a delight, and Sue became a good friend. She moved last March, and I miss her still.
But Brannon and Meredith Latimer have moved into her house with two-year-old Abby. They're expecting baby two in March and just found out it's a boy.
Meredith came over for coffee on the porch this morning--a lovely sunny morning with the temperature just right. We chatted immediately, found lots in common, and the forty-year age gap between us disappeared. We swapped stories--mine about granchildren, and hers about her child, then on to family, background, etc. An hour passed before we knew it, and it was time for her to pick up Abby. A most pleasant break in the morning, and I welcome them to the neighborhood, hope they'll stay a while.
November is Nanowrimo Month, a project that urges amateur and professional writers to put together a novel in 30 days--I didn't sign up. I don't need more pressure in my life. After all, that's why I'm retired. But today I wrote slightly over 2,000 words--if I did that every day for 30 days, I'd be darn close to a finished cozy. With my upcoming schedule, I won't get that done, but it was a good feeling, and I intend to keep after the novel now that I'm back to it. No more distractions.
Tonight was my memoir writing class. What a classy group of ladies! We laugh, we look at ourselves, we explore, and, best of all, we share. There are some hard times shared but somehow we always see the good in life. Tonight in addition to presentations, we read our exercises in telling a story in six sentences. (There's a blog where you can do that: http://sixsentences.blogspot.com/.) Lots of fun. I cheated and condensed one of my short stories into six sentences, but some of the others were really good, and one gave me the chills.  The beginning of a good mystery short story.
I am so grateful for all these different threads in my life. They tie together well, but I have the feeling I'll be harried and hurried from now through Christmas.

A Weekend Away--Working

I've just had one of those weekends that make me realize what an interesting life I lead. Saturday night I stood on a large brick patio in a beautifully landscaped backyard in Albany, Texas, and thought, "Who would believe I'm here, having a drink with all these ranch people I've never met before." Well, I knew a few of them but not a lot. Jeannie and I had gone to Albany for a book signing, and I spent three hours at the Lynch Line, a small but charming bookstore where I sold 12 books and signed another 84 for future use. The book is John Barclay Armstrong, Texas Ranger, and also present for some of the signing--and to sign all those 84 books--were John Barclay Armstrong III (great-grandson) and JBA IV (great-great grandson, age ten, who diligently signed the books alongside his father). The publisher, my friend Rue Judd of Bright Sky Books, had arranged it all. Jeannie spent the signing time touring the world-famous Old Jail Art Gallery and Museum and then going to an organ concert at the gem of a small Presbyterian church they have in Albany (I envied her that particularly). Before the signing, we'd done some serious Christmas shopping. Albany has lovely stores, fun to browse in, particularly stores with kitchen stuff.
Albany may be small, but it's a picturesque town--and not all Texas small towns fit that category. Whereas many have boarded-up storefronts and rundown homes, Albany is full of neatly kept, attractive homes--some quite sizeable--and tastefully redone buildings on the square. I'm sure we missed a lot of it, like the place that's supposed to have the best meringue pies ever (something Hico residents would debate!).
From the signing, we went by our borrowed quarters--the home of Rue's neighbors who were out of town--changed into jeans, and went to Rue's for the patio cocktail hour. Then off to the courthouse lawn for beans & barbecue. We ran into the former chancellor of TCU and his wife, for whom Jeannie had worked and both of whom I had always liked a lot. Hugs and greetings of surprise were exchanged--small world, although we knew that they have a home near Albany. Then we were off to Fandangle, the outdoor pageant detailing the history of Fort Griffin and really all of West Texas. The pageant was closing its 69th season last night, and it's amazing that this tiny town--pop. 1,961--can gather the enormous cast and elaborate staging (including a train and a herd of Longhorns) that it does every year. And the show changes every year, so that you can't say, "Been there, done that." We want to go back next year--and I'm glad I have another book in the works with Rue. Got to bed at 12:30, bone-tired--way past my bedtime.
This morning we were at Rue's house by a little after 7:30, for a quiet, leisurely and delicious breakfast on the patio, and then home to Fort Worth by 11 a.m.
Rue and I did do a little "shop talking" during the weekend, and I did a quick inventory check at the bookstore to see what TCU Press titles they had and which ones they should have, so it was a true combination of work and pleasure--and that, I guess, is the story of my life.
We had wonderful weather for the trip, though we could see creeks and rivers--the Brazos particularly--out of their banks and in places, side or access roads under water. The rain held off and we sailed home under blue skies on an empty highway. But now, early afternoon, it's thundering again.
As always I'm glad to be home. I always am in a state of anxiety as I begin a trip, even a short one, and then come home feeling exhilarated--which is exactly what happened this time. Jeannie is a great traveling companion, and I always enjoy trips with her. As I said to her, we've had some interesting experiences--Albany, King Ranch, etc. But my trip to San Angelo for the Keltons' anniversary is apparently off--Fran's knee is not up to another long drive. Maybe one trip, even short, is all I need in a week, but already I'm wondering how to fill the holiday. Then again, knowing how my life goes, I'll find something.
Now to work. I ran by the office this morning after I got home and picked up a file I need to work on. But I do have that mystery to finish. And Jordan and Christian are coming for supper.