Sheldon Place

Today has been a strange day. I'm still sick, but I'm better than I was. The cold/flu germs are leaving. Some of them have found my husband. He isn't thrilled, to say the least.

This is the day for the "closing" of my husband's childhood home. The new owners will take possession of the house today, after all the paperwork is completed.

I can't help thinking about my husband's mother on this day. She loved that house. She and my husband's father and grandfather built that house. Brick by brick and board by board. When my husband was cleaning out closets in that house this past summer, he found old black/white photographs of the house being built.

When the sun sets tonight on Sheldon Place, that much-loved home will belong to its new owners. I hope they take care of it just as my husband's family did. I find it hard to believe, however, that someone else will love that house as much as my husband's mom did.

The first time I walked into that house, my husband's mother hugged me and that home wrapped itself around me. The only other home that ever gave me that feeling was my grandmother's house (my father's mother). A house needs a lot of love and attention before it becomes a home. Both my grandmother and my husband's mother had the key to that secret, and their homes were safe places to land.

I've tried to do the same with our home here. I looked for over a year for 'the perfect house' and when I walked into this house, I knew it was the one. Not too big, not too small for the two of us. And the previous (original) owners had a wonderful family and they made this a happy home for all the years they lived here. That feeling was most evident as soon as I walked into the door. When I came back the second time with my husband, he felt the same way about this house.

Yesterday afternoon, as the closing on mom's house was taking place, all I could think about were all the "mom" things she used to tell me:

"The man buys the house, but the woman makes it a home."

"Men are like dogs... they will both pee behind a tree and eat from a cardboard box."

"Women are like cats... they want clean bathroom facilities and a soft spot to nap."

"No matter what happens in this world, life does go on in a sensible way."

"The more a person yells, the less other people will listen."

"If you speak softly, people will concentrate on your voice and hear every word you say."

"You have to look in the mirror at your own image, so be happy with what you see there."

"Not liking something is reason enough to replace it."

"Buy what you love and you'll find room for it."

"Wear the clothes... don't let the clothes wear you."

"If you think of yourself as a Queen, you'll be treated as one."

"Don't cook too much because the wallpaper in your kitchen will fade very quickly from all that steam."

"The most dangerous people in the world are those who think they know everything."

"Everyone needs a mentor. Someone a little older and a little wiser, someone you respect. Without a mentor, you will make every mistake known to man."

"If you have no compassion, you have very little else."

"Lose everything in your life if need be, but never lose your dignity."

...... I could go on and on here...... I wish I could remember them all. But I eventually will, as different situations arise. And I will keep adding to this list. I have had various mentors in my life at different stages. But my husband's mother taught me the most. I admired her and respected her, and she gave me the highest compliment without saying a word: she respected me and I knew that. Right from our first meeting. Her respect for me never faltered. Nor mine for her.

Sunday Stuffing

My husband made a fresh batch of oyster stuffing yesterday, so that's what I've been eating. I'm still sick, but thankfully, my taste buds are still working. Yesterday, A's husband brought me some of A's homemade lentil soup, and I had some of that at 3:00 this morning when I couldn't sleep. I feel better than I did yesterday, but this cold is still with me.

Just as I thought, my husband is now coughing and sneezing a little. Impossible for two people to live in the same house and not share cold germs. Hopefully, the germs that got him won't be so cruel. Men turn into babies when they're sick. Any woman will tell you that, and every man will deny it.

The tree in the living room is still undecorated, except for one strand of bubble lights and the Roy Rogers star on the top. My husband had started putting up the lights, but he wasn't feeling well enough to continue. As for the gold star... it really did belong to Roy Rogers and Dale Evans. I bought it on eBay a few years ago, when Roy & Dale's children were auctioning off items from the family ranch. This star is a smaller-size replica of the huge gold star that was affixed to the roof of their ranch, and they used this star as their Christmas tree-topper for years. I was thrilled to win the bidding on it and I gave it to my husband for Christmas that year. We never pack it away, either... I keep it displayed on our mantel all year long.

Gorgeous day outside today... sunny and warm and a little breezy. I stayed inside, though, except for the little bit that I spent out on the porch. I slept half of the morning, and half of the afternoon, being that I slept very little last night. I didn't even get into the bed last night. I tried sleeping on the living room sofa, just to avoid giving my husband any more germs. ShadowBaby curled up with me, and slept on my shoulder. AngelBoy fell asleep on one of the chairs and stayed there all night long. Rusty wanted no part of me-- he went out on the porch. And Gracie went into the bedroom with my husband... guess she didn't want to hear me coughing either.

That's been about the day. Feels like it's been a lost weekend, which it really has. I am so glad that I got all the favors together for the Christmas party before we left for that trip to St. Thomas. I wouldn't have been a happy camper if I'd had to take care of those now while I'm not feeling so great. As it is, I'll be having to shop for food and desserts for the party, so I hope this cold/flu/whatever is on its way out.

Saturday Stuff... and All Stuffed Up

Gorgeous Saturday... bright sun, breezy, warm temperatures. So nice that my husband decided to spend the morning decorating the front of the house with Christmas lights. I've had that job for the past few years, just because my husband was too busy. I had mastered the strings of lights and last year I got the job done in less than an hour. (Very easy, since we have a one-story house.)

My husband took more than an hour, but he also used more lights. When he started out there this morning, I had visions of an eight-hour project, being that last night on one of the cable channels, we saw a program featuring over-the-top Christmas light displays. So of course, I was hoping that my husband didn't want to go up on our roof and spell out Merry Christmas in red and white lights.

We have two life-sized reindeer for the front yard... those white-framed deer wrapped in white lights. I found them last year at a yard sale. A couple of years ago, our neighbor H got together with my husband and they came up with an elaborate plan for decorating every house on our cul de sac. It was H's idea for each of the fifteen houses on our street to have a reindeer in the front yard. Then my husband thought that it would be great if the house at the back end of the cul de sac could have Santa's sleigh in the yard. Then the idea grew--- with all the reindeer being "connected" with strings of white lights. Of course, the connections would have to break for each of the driveways, but H and my husband would've worked that out.

Sadly, H and her husband M moved away last year... up near Austin to be near their son and new granddaughter. A happy move for a good reason, and while we were thrilled for them, we felt sad not to have H and M on our street. It was a bittersweet moment last year when the white-lighted reindeers went up in the front yards here. Not every house has them, and the plans for connecting all of them never happened, and the house at the end doesn't have Santa's sleigh, and probably never will. However, if H were still here, I've no doubt that she and my husband would've been successful with their outdoor decorating plan. I had found four reindeer at the yard sales last year. My neighbor V took one of them, my neighbors R & M took another. My husband and I kept the last two for our yard, with the thought that one was for us, one was for H.

I've spent most of the day indoors, except for going out to the backyard to feed the birds, and going out to the front yard for a few minutes to hold the light strings for my husband while he wrapped them around the biggest tree out front. I am all stuffed up, my cold has gotten worse, and I'm sure it's the flu and not just a simple cold. All I've been eating since Thanksgiving is left-over sweet potatoes, left-over stuffing, orange juice and oranges, and tea with honey. My friend A said she has homemade lentil soup in her freezer, so she's bringing me some. I would like a pot of lentil soup big enough to cover me up to my neck. Even with the warm temperatures today, I just can't seem to get warm enough.

And... speaking of birds... while my husband was out walking Gracie this morning, he saw two hawks near the park. He said they were huge, with at least four-feet-wide wing spans. I asked him if he thought a bird that size could pick up AngelBoy. My husband said he didn't want to find out. Needless to say, I'm still looking in the treetops when I let AngelBoy in the yard. And his time out there these days is very limited. Not a happy little camper, that cat, but that's life in the forest. After seeing that hawk in the yard a few days ago, I just can't get that picture out of my mind.... of AngelBoy being whisked away in the talons of a huge hawk. Gracious... just the thought.....

We haven't started to decorate the tree in the living room yet. It's resting nicely and seems happy to be there. Beautiful shape to that tree. My husband will start with the lights either tonight or tomorrow. I should be feeling well enough by Monday to do the ornaments.

I had mailed my sister's Christmas package up to her last week and it was delivered the day after Thanksgiving. She called me when it arrived, and I told her to pick out the tiniest package and open it, which she did. So in our book, Christmas has begun. She is mailing my package out on Monday. When that gets here, we'll start calling one another a couple of times a week, and opening one gift each while we're on the phone. Our husbands think we're nuts, and they make fun of our pre-Christmas gift-opening. We've been doing this since I moved here. Somehow, it works for us, no matter what the guys think.

And that's about my story of the day. A little of this, a little of that. As for me... I am still all stuffed up. I hate feeling sick. All stuffed up.... and no place to go. Which is good. I don't feel like going anywhere at all.

The Christmas Tree is In The House

My husband and our friend D went off this afternoon to the Christmas tree tent on Highway 3. They've done this together every year now for the past three years, when D and A and their son C moved from NY to TX. Before that, my husband and I would go to pick out the tree. I don't mind not being included in this little adventure. In fact, I prefer it this way, but it does have its drawbacks.

Send husbands out tree-shopping on their own and you can end up with a 12-foot tree in the middle of your living room, like we had last year. In fact, last year's tree was 14 feet high, and I didn't find that out till this afternoon when D mentioned how huge that tree was. I told him that I thought it was 'only' 12-feet high. My husband said he didn't want to tell me it was two feet higher because he knew the extra two feet would freak me out. Which it would have. I wasn't thrilled with having that forest in the middle of our living room, even though it was absolutely beautiful. But climbing a ladder to decorate the top of a huge tree isn't exactly my favorite thing to do. I think I broke every one of my fingernails on that ladder last year.

This year's tree is about 9 feet high, which is just enough. I'll have to get up on a ladder, but at least I won't be balancing on the next-to-the-top rung of it. I know that before picking out this tree, my husband probably looked at every tree inside and around the tree tent, which is the part of the excursion that I can do without. My method of tree shopping would be much quicker. My husband likes to browse. And browse. So he and D go off on their own, and browse to their heart's content, and I just keep my fingers crossed that they don't come back with a steroid-fed fir.

I think this year's tree is a Frasier Fir. That's the tree my husband almost always gets. They're picture-postcard beautiful, with sturdy branches to hold the vintage lights and blown-glass ornaments. The branches don't have that thick bottle-brush look, which I hate, and this particular tree has little 'pockets' all around the tree where our biggest ornaments can be nestled and be safe from knocking into lights and ornaments which will hang on branches below them.

My husband and D asked one of our neighbors to help set the tree in place. We have a tree stand made of thick steel, with heavy-gauge links that go up the trunk of the tree and are held in place by steel brackets. The stand alone weighs a ton. Since we've always had big trees, we needed a stand that would hold them securely. Can you imagine a 14-foot tree falling in the middle of your living room? Perish that thought. Add into the equation that we have a dog and three cats, any one of which could send a tree crashing down if it wasn't securely set into a sturdy stand. Actually, we've been lucky with that. Gracie just sleeps next to it, and the cats go underneath and curl up to either nap or peek out into the living room like furry spies.

It will take my husband at least a day to string up all his antique lights, then I will do all the ornaments and embellishments. When it's all done, we will do what we do every year: we'll sit on the sofa and look up at the tree and declare that it's the best tree we've ever had.

A Barry Good Friday Morning

Following last week's Manilow concert, my friends A and J and myself all have our Manilow antenna up and functioning on overtime. We all knew that today's Oprah show would feature a rerun of her show with Barry Manilow. A found out first, she called me, then I called J. We were all set to watch Oprah with Barry at 4:00 this afternoon.

However, my phone rang at 10:00 this morning. As soon as I picked up the phone, and had just barely said hello, I heard A's voice saying "Oh my God, he's on now, Barry is on Oprah now." Now? said I. NOW! said she.

I had answered the phone on the kitchen extension, so as I hung up the phone, I turned on the little TV that's on the far corner of the kitchen counter. And there was Oprah, just getting ready to introduce Manilow. I picked up the phone again and called J at his antique shop. He answered on the first ring but hardly recognized my voice because my cold has gotten worse and now I have a sore throat. I managed to croak "Turn on the little TV in your office! Oprah is on right now and so is Barry!" Now? said he. NOW! said I.

As Manilow was in the middle of his first song, my phone rang again. I was tempted not to answer it. I didn't want to interrupt Barry. But I picked up the phone, and the voice I heard was my friend Stephanie. "Oh my goodness, were you sleeping?" she asked. I told her I'd been up since 7:00 but my voice sounded hoarse because of my cold. "Well, what are you doing right this minute?" she asked. "Watching Barry Manilow on Oprah," I whispered. (Whispering so I could hear Barry.) "Oh good-- that's why I was calling you! Go back to him!"

So there I stood, watching that show as if I hadn't just seen it a couple of months ago. I didn't even leave the kitchen to watch Barry on the bigger screen in the TV room. I just stood there as if I was glued into that corner of the countertop. I made a cup of hot chocolate for my sore throat and stood there sipping that inbetween singing (croaking) along with his songs. Manilow was only on for the first half hour of that show, then Oprah went into her Book Club discussion for the second half.

I turned off the TV after Barry. I didn't need to see the repeat of Oprah's discussion of Anna Karenina, which was her summer book. And I already knew that she'd be giving out copies of The Good Earth at the end of the hour. I read Anna Karenina along with Oprah's book club this past summer, and afterward, when she recommended The Good Earth, I didn't read along because I've read that book three or four times, the fourth time being just last winter.

Anyway.... that's been the morning. The Barry grapevine is alive and cooking here in Clear Lake. My head cold has gotten worse, and I'm alternating between feeling too hot and too cold. I gave in and took some cough medicine last night, because the cough drops weren't working anymore. I've stopped coughing, but my throat is killing me and so is everything else. From the ends of my hair to the tips of my toes, I feel like one big ache. I think this has gone from a simple cold to the flu. It will be a blessed miracle if everyone who was sitting at A's Thanksgiving table yesterday doesn't come down with my symptoms.

And that's a Manilow song: "It's a Miracle....!"

Thank You for Thanksgiving!

What a great afternoon we all had! Six of us around A's dining room table: A and D and their son C, my husband and I, and our friend F. Such a great combination to begin with, then add food and a holiday flair, and you've got a wonderful Thanksgiving afternoon.

First of all, as soon as we walked into A's dining room, we were surrounded with the colors of autumn, with golden leaves as the theme. Beautiful amber and green leaves woven into the table linens, copper leaves holding the placecards and surrounded by chocolate turkeys and truffles.

Even the tableware is in sync with the season-- amber glassware and dinnerware decorated with autumn-y florals. In the center of the table, green and gold fruit-shaped candles surrounding a small green topiary studded with tiny fall fruits. Tied around the linen napkins for myself and F, an autumn leaf brooch as a Thanksgiving remembrance. Absolutely stunning!

And before I left our house this afternoon, I was looking in my jewelry box for a brooch for my jacket that would match the season. Everything I had was either too Spring-y or too Christmas-y. Now I have this beautiful autumn leaf brooch, and so does A. We can add that item to the "now we both have one" list.

Then, the bountiful buffet that A set up along her kitchen countertops. Her turkey and gravy, of course, surrounded by all of our Thanksgiving specialties: two kinds of stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, spinach souffle, green bean casserole, cranberry-pineapple sauce, hot biscuits, mandarin orange salad, wild rice, and I'm sure I'm forgetting something or other. All of us looked at that array of food and we said "How can we possibly..." But we did. Not once, but twice.

Then for dessert... coffee, tea and hot chocolate. Pumpkin pie with whipped cream. A's homemade brownies with ice cream. (Chocolate. Vanilla. Pistachio. Butter Pecan.) And, of course, those chocolate truffles that were still resting and tempting next to everyone's place setting. And we said "How can we possibly...." But of course we did.

Lots of good conversation at that Thanksgiving table. Lots of energy. Lots of laughs. We've all been so busy with everyday life around here that sometimes it gets to be too long a time inbetween good times.

As we all wrapped up leftovers for ourselves... I'll give you some sweet potatoes, you give me some spinach souffle.... we were surprised with even more surprises as we made our way to the door. A gave a pretty African Violet to both myself and F... the violets planted in a pretty pumpkin-shaped container. Perfect for this time of the year. Then, a pumpkin-colored gift bag filled with goodies. In mine, a book I've been wanting to read, a grand piano ornament for our Christmas tree, pictures of us at last week's Manilow concert, and a little birdhouse Christmas ornament. And more chocolates tucked into the bottom of the bag. For my husband, his favorite ground-coffee from the Nana's Attic shop, a golfing Mickey Mouse tree ornament, and a guy-size chocolate bar.

A lot to be thankful for on this Thanksgiving evening. Not just for the abundance of food. Not just for the thoughtful gifts. Not just for the well-planned and beautifully artistic table settings. But mainly that the six of us, on this third Thanksgiving that A and D and C have celebrated in Texas, can come together not just as good friends, but love one another as family.

Thank you, A, for a beautiful Thanksgiving afternoon.

Thanksgiving Morning

My husband's flight from St. Thomas was delayed last night, so he didn't get into the airport here till 11:30. Regardless, we were awake and out of bed before 5:30 this morning, and my husband got started with his cooking. Right now, two kinds of stuffing are baking in the oven, and his mashed potatoes are all done. His mashed potatoes are legend here. He mashes them with an antique wooden masher that's been in his family for years. One year, he used the electric mixer... the potatoes just weren't the same. So now, every Thanksgiving and Christmas, I remind him not to touch the mixer.

He makes the best, best stuffing, honestly. One batch has oysters, mussels and almonds mixed in with the "regular" ingredients (onions, celery, garlic, bread cubes, seasonings, eggs, etc). The other batch has Greek gyro meat, feta cheese and pistachio nuts in the mixture. Both have distinctly different flavors, both totally delicious. As a rule, I don't eat meat. Ever. But every rule has an exception. And I do love his "Greek" stuffing recipe, even though the gyro meat is chopped up in there.

My sweet potatoes came out perfectly-- or at least they did right after we carefully picked off the burnt pecans from the tops and crushed up more pecans for the topping. Back into the oven they went and I watched them extra carefully this time. Those pecans go from toasty brown to burnt black in a heartbeat, I swear. I don't eat mashed potatoes, but I do love sweet potatoes. I don't eat turkey, so my own Thanksgiving plate holds just sweet potatoes, stuffing, my cranberry sauce, and whatever vegetables are on the table.

I'm still not over this head cold, but I feel better than yesterday. While my husband was cooking his stuffings and potatoes, he kept telling me and my germs to keep out of the kitchen and stay in the breakfast room. Which I did.... no sense in getting everyone sick later on today, and I sincerely hope no one catches this cold from me. I joked with my husband, saying that maybe A should spray me with Lysol when I walk in the door, and have my place setting at a separate table, away from every other healthy soul there.

Head cold or not, I'm still the same girl-y girl, as my neighbor V would say. I've changed outfits three times, changed shoes twice, and I've changed earrings twice and bracelets once. I am officially dressed for the day. My original outfit this morning would've been too hot to wear all day. It was cool this morning, but now that the sun has been out for a while, it's warming up. My house is warm from all the cooking, so I'm guessing A's house is warm as well. Besides that, when I changed, I put on the clothes that I want to wear to my husband's Christmas party where he works. I figured I'd see what my friends A and F think about this outfit first, before showing up at that Christmas party.

On the way back from the airport last night, I told my husband about the hawk that was in the backyard yesterday. The first thing he said was "Be careful with those cats." I told him that's exactly what I thought of first, even though our neighbor V laughs at me for being so over-protective.

Just as I had thought, AngelBoy wanted to go out into the backyard today right after he ate his breakfast. Being that we had gotten up so early, it was still dark outside. No way, said I... and I let him out into the screen-porch instead. He sat there looking at me. Then he whined and cried and meowed in that pitiful way he has when he's really disappointed. I didn't let him out into the yard till around 10:00 this morning, and I sat there by the windows watching the backyard and looking up at the trees. I don't know what I would've done had I seen the hawk. Are hawks afraid of brooms? Or maybe I could squirt the hawk with the garden hose?

Thankfully, no hawk out there this morning. And when I let AngelBoy out in the backyard, I made Rusty go out with him. Safety in numbers, is what I was thinking. Maybe two cats in the yard would seem like a threat to the hawk, rather than seeming like breakfast. Oh Lord, just the thought. I would just die if anything happened to AngelBoy out there. (Rusty would be safe--- he's too big and heavy for a hawk to pick up, unless the hawk was on steroids.)

Gorgeous day here today. Lots of sun, blue skies, temperatures warming up to the high 60s, which is cool and chilly in my book, but considering it dropped down to 48 last night, I won't complain about the 60 degrees.

Just about time to get everything heated up here and get it in the car for the three-street drive to A's house. My husband is taking a nap. After four hours of sleep, and then five hours of cooking, a nap was called for so he doesn't fall asleep during the meal. I told him if he falls asleep, I get "dibs" on the stuffing.

Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Hawk - 1, Blue Jay - 0

I'm sitting here all stuffed up with a head cold. Never fails... get on a plane in the winter months and there are germs flying everywhere. I'm too busy to be sick, so I'm just going to ignore all of this cold/runny nose/coughing/sneezing/flu stuff.

Speaking of flying... here's how my morning started out. I was on my way to the the front door to walk Gracie this morning and I heard a smashing sound against the breakfast room windows. I thought another bird had hit the glass, but it was louder than usual. I went to have a look-see, and what is sitting in my backyard right near the deck? That large hawk that I've been seeing out there just about every week now.

And what did the hawk have clutched in his talons? A poor blue jay. The hawk looked at me and just stared. I looked at him and cringed as the poor blue jay tried to escape. The hawk tightened his grip on the poor bird and it was all over. I actually heard the bird's last chirp. The hawk gave me one last look and flew up into the trees. Huge wing-span on that bird. Huge bird, period. I was sure that the hawk out-weighed each of my cats.

Off I went to walk Gracie... my cats were all in the screen-porch, but wanting to get out into the yard to investigate the flurry of blue jay feathers that were left on the lawn by the hawk. When I got back from walking Gracie, I knew I needed an answer to the question that haunted me as I walked around the streets with the dog. Could that hawk carry off one of my cats? AngelBoy in particular, who is as light as a feather, despite his big-fluffy-pouffy appearance.

My neighbor V knows all about the local animals and critters here. She has worked in and taught classes at the near-by nature center, and is a walking encyclopedia about Mother Nature. I found her just coming back from walking her dog, and told her about the hawk.

I told her that I now had a mental picture of AngelBoy being picked up in the talons of a hawk and being carried across Clear Lake. Could that happen? "Survival of the fittest," said she. What????? I told her I needed a real answer. She told me that I should just erect a huge net over my city-girl backyard so not even a moth could bother my cats. She took one look at my face and decided she'd better get serious.

V said that hawks can, have, and will capture birds, mice, squirrels, and rabbits. She hadn't ever heard of a hawk flying off with a cat, but that doesn't mean that it couldn't happen. We were standing on my backyard deck as we had this conversation, and there was AngelBoy, in the screen-porch, looking out at us with his bunny-blue eyes. He sat there all curled up in a tight ball, silky bunny-fur fluffed out and sparkling. I said to V: "Just look at my AngelBoy. What if that hawk up there is near-sighted? Don't you think that AngelBoy would look like a rabbit to a near-sighted hawk?"
She told me I was over-reacting.

Not in my book. I told V that I couldn't live with the "maybe it could happen" theory. She went out into my yard and looked up into the trees. V said that hawks make large nests of sticks and twigs, way high up at the tops of trees. We looked and looked, but didn't see anything other than the leaf-nests of the squirrels. V told me that hawks will hunt not only near their nests, but a good distance away from their home-base. "They usually hunt in the early mornings and late at night," said V.

Fine. No more early-morning outings for AngelBoy. Unless, of course, I can stand in the yard with him, holding a shotgun aimed at the sky. I know for a fact that AngelBoy isn't going to like this decision. He loves going out in the yard right after his breakfast. Sorry, my blue-eyed cat, but that's not going to happen anymore. From now on, I'll wait till noon-time, when the hawks should be sleeping, according to V. I don't let the cats out after dark anymore, because I don't want them near the raccoons and possums that wander into the yard at night. AngelBoy definitely does not like this time of the year when it gets dark at 6:00 in the evening.

Tomorrow morning, I know for a fact that AngelBoy will be standing by the door of the screen-porch, wanting me to open the door for him. I will stand there tomorrow and try to explain to my blue-eyed, bunny-fur cat that this curfew is for his own safety, that I just can't, in all good conscience, let him out till the hawk beds down for a noon-time nap. AngelBoy is going to look at me with a "But why???" look on that little cat face of his.

And I will say what mothers all over the world say to their children: "Because I'm your mother and I said no!" I will have to remember to whisper those words so V can't hear me from her yard next door.... if she hears those words from my mouth, I will never ever hear the end of it.

Sweet Potatoes

Crazy weather here today... nice and warm, but it's sunny one minute and pouring-down rain the next. I started the day in black slacks and my sparkling Manilow top, then changed into shorts and a sleeveless top when I started to cook. Can't be cooking in the Manilow shirt and risk getting it stained, for goodness sake!

Today is sweet potato day. I'm using my Aunt Dolly's recipe for sweet potatoes, and adding a southern flair to them. Great recipe because you can par-boil the potatoes and set them up for baking on Thanksgiving morning. Saves you from having to do everything on turkey day.

I usually use one sweet potato per person. That way, you're sure to have some leftovers, and sweet potatoes always taste just as good when they're reheated. Use a large pot and fill it three-quarters up with cold water. Wash the sweet potatoes and put them in the water-- don't peel them, and make sure the water level is about two or three inches from the rim of the pot. Let the water come to a rolling boil, then turn it down just a bit and let the sweet potatoes simmer till they're just near to fork-tender.

Take the sweet potatoes out of the hot water with a large spoon, or use salad tongs. Just set them on a platter and let them cool down a bit. Meanwhile, line a large cookie sheet or baking pan with foil. Spray the foil with a non-stick cooking spray, then sprinkle in a little brown sugar to lightly cover the pan. With a sharp paring knife, cut the ends off the sweet potatoes, and remove all the skins. Cut each potato in half, then half again so you have four quarters. Line them up in your pan on top of the brown sugar.

For the southern touch-- spread a teaspoon of crushed pineapple (with juice) on top of each sweet potato. Then sprinkle about half a teaspoon of crushed pecans on top of each potato. Then comes the brown sugar again... sprinkle a bit on top of each potato. If you want to go over-the-top with this, you can add bits of butter on top of each potato. (I skip that, to save on the calories, and because the potatoes with the sugar and pineapple are sweet and delicious without it.)

At this point, you can cover the pan with foil and put it in the fridge. On Thanksgiving day, take the pan out of the fridge about half an hour before you need to put it in the oven. They will need to bake (un-covered) at 350 degrees for 30 to 40 minutes, then they go under the broiler for two to three minutes... watch them carefully-- you want the tops to brown nicely without getting burned. And those crushed pecans burn quickly, so watch them!
Absolutely delicious sweet potatoes with that pineapple and pecan topping!

So that's about what I've been up to. I had my piano lesson this morning, which went fairly well, considering I'd hardly touched the piano since last week. Between the Manilow concert and the trip to St. Thomas, I just didn't take the time to practice. And not practicing enough is always quite evident, because I will sit down at K's piano and look at my sheet music and then look at her keys, trying to match my notes with her keys. I swear, sometimes it seems like she rearranges those keys from week to week. I left her house with Christmas music. Not that I'll be playing Christmas songs at our party. I'll be too busy with the party to be worrying about playing "Jingle Bells."

Clouding up again out there, and the wind is kicking up. Which means that Channel 11 will probably be breaking in on the Oprah show this afternoon to give us a weather update. I nearly called them yesterday to complain because they interrupted Oprah's holiday give-away show to tell us that Wharton County might be in the path of a tornado. Well, did it never occur to The Powers That Be at these television stations that the people who are in the path of a tornado already know that and they surely aren't sitting in front of their TV sets listening to the weatherman's update.

And in all the eleven years that we have lived here, never ever have the stations interrupted a sports game to give a weather update. If a baseball or football game is on TV, they will have a little band of text running along the bottom of the TV screen with the weather information. But just get Oprah on that TV, and Channel 11 just can't leave her alone.

So that's about the story for the day here. Time to get in there and exercise, and see who's on Oprah today. She mentioned it yesterday, but I've forgotten. Doesn't matter anyway, because whoever or whatever the 'theme' of her show is, it's my time to exercise. Can't stop now... not with all those sweet potatoes sitting in the fridge.

Barry Manilow is In My Closet

When we were all at the Manilow concert last week, I bought a nice black scoop-necked pullover with Manilow written across the front of it in blue rhinestones. I was so tired after we got home that I just put it with some clothes that needed to be ironed... then off we went the next morning to St. Thomas.

After catching up with laundry this afternoon, I ironed my blouses, and the new Manilow top. Fits like a dream, the rhinestone Manilow sparkles beautifully... and hopefully, we will have another Manilow concert in Houston so I can wear it. Of course, I won't be waiting for a Manilow concert to wear it for the first time. I should wear that top the next time we see our friends B & P.... B doesn't understand my fascination with Barry, and he's always making Barry jokes. I keep telling him that God is going to get him for that. I assured him that if there is a God, then surely God must be a Manilow fan, but he doesn't believe me. (Oh, ye of little faith...)

It is raining in Houston, it is raining right now in Clear Lake, and it's been raining just about every day since last week. Lots of little towns north of Houston are flooded and people have evacuated their homes. The temperature here is warm, so the rain is creating a lot of humidity. Gracie hates walking in the rain, Rusty and AngelBoy miss going out in the backyard when it rains. Heaven forbid AngelBoy should get his dainty little paws wet. When the grass is wet, he will tip-toe across the yard. After a rain, we get puddles here and there on the lawn. When AngelBoy's paw dips into one of those puddles, he'll stand there and shake out his paw before taking another step. Takes a while to get across the yard that way, but he's a patient cat in his own way.

I called my husband tonight. Long distance to St. Thomas, so I tried to keep it short and not go into too many details that can wait till he gets home on Wednesday night. I did, however, tell him that we missed the most important town of Charlotte Amalie during our stay in St. Thomas. All those jewelry stores that we didn't see! All the little boutiques that we missed! The government buildings! The "99 Steps!" (Which I know nothing about, but the picture on the postcard that I found in the airport gift shop looked impressive.)

My husband told me that he walked around that port town yesterday after he checked into the hotel which is hosting his conference. (While I was there, we were on the other side of the island.) He said the shops weren't very impressive, and the jewelry stores looked "cheap." I resisted the urge to remind him what happened to Pinocchio.

I spent two agonizing hours in our local grocery store this morning. You would think that they were giving food away for free in there. I guess no matter where you live, all the supermarkets get nuts just before a holiday. And, what makes it even worse--- all the cell phones. Too many women walking around that supermarket trying to steer a shopping cart with one hand while holding a cell phone in the other hand. And if they're not bumping into you with their cart, then they're standing next to you while you're trying to find the low-sodium cream of mushroom soup, and you have to hear all about their brother-in-law who isn't working because his car was repossessed because he lost his job at the chemical plant because he stays out too late at the beer garden on Highway 3 so he over-sleeps five days out of six.

Give me a blessed break. Isn't grocery shopping enough of a pain without having to listen to everyone's soap operas while you're searching the aisles for fixings for a holiday dinner? Listen up, people--- we all got along with cell phones for years and years! They supposed to be a convenience, not an appendage!!!! And the rest of the world doesn't have to hear every blessed word that you're saying while you're balancing that silly thing between your ear and your shoulder. (And so ends my gripe of the day.)

Oprah had her "Favorite Things" show today. Her audience was filled with teachers from every state in the union. The teachers thought they were in her audience to discuss education. But after Oprah came out on the stage, all the Christmas decorations were brought in and of course the audience went wild. Crying, shaking, trembling, jumping, nearly fainting in their seats. My sister called me from NY about ten minutes before the show started, to remind me not to forget to watch it. Because of the hour's time difference, she was nearly at the end of the show up there, and she couldn't believe the things Oprah was giving out.

Now if you're going to go to an Oprah show, the "Favorite Things" taping is the ticket to get. Amazing amount of stuff today... flat-screen TVs, washer/dryers, lap-top computers, cashmere sweaters and shawls, quilted jackets, key lime cakes, bubble bath, bed linens, and a big office supply store gave every teacher in her audience a $500 gift certificate for school supplies.

You would think that in a country like ours which is rich enough to pay billions of dollars to basketball and baseball players, teachers wouldn't have to be buying school supplies out of their own poorly-paid pockets.

And speaking of basketball players.... while we were in St. Thomas, we heard about the players who went up into the seats and started fighting with some fans who threw beer onto the court while the game was going on. The players have now been suspended without pay, for the rest of the season. And they're trying to get that decision over-turned. Again... give me a blessed break.
If anyone in this country is grossly over-paid, it's sports figures. Pick any sport, and they're all making way too much money.

So that's been about the day. I guess I'm all caught up here. Laundry is all done, folded, ironed and put away. (Until my husband gets home with his suitcase.) Everything is unpacked, mail is sorted out, bills are paid. Christmas packages are by the back door and will go to the post office tomorrow. My new Manilow blouse is hanging up in my closet, my new Manilow keychain is holding my car keys. In my mind's eye, I can still see the blue waters of Megan's Bay in St. Thomas, and I can see the blue of Barry's eyes as he smiled down at us in the front row last week.

The front row! All is indeed right in this little corner of the world.

Trip to St. Thomas

Let's see... we left the Barry Manilow concert last Wednesday night, and early the following morning, my husband and I were on a plane to St. Thomas. I got home tonight... he's still there, to attend a conference for the next three days. He'll return the night before Thanksgiving.

St. Thomas.... I have mixed feelings about this trip. Gorgeous beaches, blue-blue water, pristine sand that feels like sifted flour. We were on the Red Hook side of the island. We went to Trunk Bay and Megan's Bay... glorious beaches with beautiful views. However, not far from these beautiful beaches which cater to tourists with money, there are sad little towns for St. Thomas citizens who have very little, if any, money.

We took the Red Hook Ferry to St. John..... same thing-- gorgeous beaches, sad towns. Little kids playing with bicycles that would be trash here in the states. I expected a lot of seashells on the beaches. I found just two. We took a taxi-tour of St. John... there was a sugar cane plantation there, built in the early 1700's. That was interesting, to see all those stone and brick ovens and chimneys that have stood in place all these years.

We stayed at the Secret Harbor Beach Resort and our suite was right on the beach. Open the door and walking to the water is like walking down to our mailbox here at home. We left the windows open at night so we could hear the ocean.

We didn't rent a car, and took a taxi wherever we went. They charge by the person and by the amount of luggage you have. Just one taxi was as pristine as the beaches. Some of the taxis were open-air. I walked out of the hotel with great hair. One open-air taxi ride and that was history.

They drive on the left side of the road there... two-lane roads through those mountains, and no room for error. Drive too far to the left, and you could be over a cliff. Drive too far to the right, and you can touch the side of a taxi going in the opposite direction.

We went to Coral World.... I wasn't impressed with that, except when we had lunch and I tossed the croutons from my salad to two iguanas who were watching us eat. I never eat croutons anyway... now I know what to do with them. Coral World was probably fabulous years ago, but now it just looks old and tired. And it's in the middle of one of the worst parts of the town.

We didn't do much of anything this morning except sit out in the sun for a while before having lunch at Secret Harbor and then heading off to the airport. On the way there, we passed the beautiful town of Charlotte Amalie. Ah.... that's what we should have seen. Forget Coral World, forget the ferry, forget the open-air taxi tours.

Charlotte Amalie is where the cruise ships dock. It's where the historical and government buildings are. We didn't see any of that. No time for it this morning because I needed to get to the airport. I don't know if my husband will have time for any of that in the next three days. And I know he won't take time to look at the shops there. The streets were uncluttered and clean. The shops looked beautiful. We missed the best part of St. Thomas.

And all the talk of the great shopping there... we missed that as well because the best stores are in Charlotte Amalie. The shops on the Red Hook side of the island were beach-y shops, filled with beach-y things for the people who come to swim, sail and drink. (Not necessarily in that order. Lots of drinking going on there.)

We bought two Christmas ornaments for our tree-- a seahorse that looks like a cute little reindeer, and a pretty cat wearing a mermaid's outfit. While we were in St. John, there was one jewelry store that had the most gorgeous bracelet... sapphires of all colors... it looked like a rainbow to encircle your wrist. And for $3500.00 or some such ridiculous price, it needed a pot of gold at the end of it. I thanked the girl for taking it out of the showcase but I didn't try it on. Too over-priced.

So here I sit at the computer... very tired after a long day's travel. I've hugged all the cats and Gracie, unpacked, vacuumed the pet hair from the carpets, and I'm thinking about getting ready for bed. As I'm typing this sentence, I can hear the train whistle.... the train is passing over Highway 3 right this very minute. I love the sound of that whistle.

From Manilow to St. Thomas...... and back again. On a scale of 1 to 10, Manilow was a 10.... St. Thomas was a 6. We saw too many beaches, too many taxis, not enough of the island's history, and nothing of the quaint, pretty town of Charlotte Amalie. Oh well. Maybe there will be a next time.

After Manilow...........

Barry Manilow is just the best, the best, the best. He sang all of his old favorites (and ours!) and sang some of his new songs as well. We were all worn out from the concert so I can just imagine how Manilow must feel after a two-hour show.

We were dancing and singing and jumping in our seats throughout the show.... it was just so great. This is supposedly his last concert tour. I'm hoping that after he takes a good long rest, he'll come back to all of us with more music. He's too good not to sing, not to perform, not to keep his fans smiling with his music. And, as he said tonight, the world, being in the state that it's in, surely does need music.

Music. Not rap. Not screeching. Not yelling. We're talking real music, like we heard tonight.
I could go on and on here, but I won't. Barry's fans know how wonderful and humble and real he is. And those who aren't his fans don't know and don't care. I'm still wired up from the concert, and it's been a long day, and heaven only knows if I'll get some sleep tonight.

Manilow is magic. Pure and simple magic. He is music. And he writes the songs.

He writes the songs that make the whole world sing......

Good Lord, what a great, fantastic, fabulous, outstanding, wonderful, exciting concert.

Manilow Wednesday

I'm sitting here wearing my Barry watch, my Barry bracelet, and I am in the Manilow mood. We had such heavy rains this morning-- four inches in just one hour, according to my neighbor and his rain gauge. I've never seen the rainwater so high in the streets here. The curbs were completely covered. Thankfully, when the rain stopped, the water found its way into the storm-drains.

My husband and I were outside after the rain, watching cars trying to drive through the intersection, which seemed to be deeper than the side-streets. My husband was trying to figure out how to get to work. I was trying to figure out where to rent a boat to get us downtown to see Manilow tonight.

But not to worry. The rain has quit and it even looks a little brighter outside. I doubt we'll see the sun today, but I hope not to see more rain. At least it's warm. Still such stupid weather, in my opinion. Definitely un-Texas-like, and un-welcoming for Barry. But this is what we have, so this will just have to do.

I called our friend J this morning, to remind him not to be late this afternoon. Not only will he be on time, but he'll be here earlier than need be. He's leaving his antique shop at 3:00. League City is just twenty minutes from here. He's leaving extra-early just in case he "hits traffic," he said. Whatever.... I'd rather he be here earlier than later.

My husband said this morning that he hoped J didn't leave his concert ticket at home. Not to worry about that either. When J paid us for the ticket, he didn't want to hold it. "You keep it," he said. "I'll get nervous before the concert and either leave it home or forget where I put it." At the time, my husband thought that was crazy. He kept telling me to give him the ticket. But I kept it safe and sound here with all the rest.

So we are set. Not only set but I think me and A and J are going to be like racehorses this afternoon. As soon as my husband says "Okay, let's go," the three of us will run like lunatics to the front door. Lunatics? No.... Manilow-Maniacs. That's what the three of us are. And proud to be, let me tell you!

Tuesday... And Where Is The Sun?

Another cloudy day, except for about an hour's worth of weak sunshine. And right now it's raining again. Not good. Barry Manilow is, right at this minute, in downtown Houston and getting ready for his concert tomorrow night. Barry needs some sun. We can't have him getting sick again. I am so set for this concert... so is A.... so is J... and I don't know if my husband and A's husband are ready, but ready or not--- just one more day till Manilow!!

Today is A's birthday. Not a pretty Texas-style day for her to celebrate it, but at least it's warming up a bit. We must be up close to 80 degrees again, so at least that's a start. Now all we need is some sun and it will be feeling like 90 again. Much better than the freezing 65 that we had over the weekend. Anyway--- Happy Birthday to A! (Maybe if we tell Barry tomorrow night that your birthday was today, he'll let you go up on the stage!)

My closets and dresser drawers are now, officially, all done. I thought I was done last week, then I decided to go through my casual sweaters. Honestly, the things we keep. Into the donation box went six sweaters that I didn't wear last year, and probably didn't wear the year before either. I have to be careful not to buy sweaters that are too heavy for our temperatures. I don't even know why they sell such heavy clothing here in the first place. Maybe so we don't feel left out from the rest of the fashion-world?

I was getting tired of going through all of these closets... it was a big job, but they are all done, and I'm sure I'll have much more room in the storage closet when the Christmas decorations get put away in January. My neighbor M stopped in the other day to give me a beautiful Christmas book, and she was surprised to see that all the Halloween decorations were replaced so quickly with Christmas things. On to the next holiday, I told her, and handed her an invitation to our Christmas party.

Oprah's show today was the wedding that she arranged for a couple who "won" the wedding of their dreams by sending in a video tape telling Oprah and her staff why they wanted such a grand wedding. I remember seeing that show months ago, and I was hoping that this couple would win. They seemed to be the most in love, the most secure, the most mature. One look at this couple and you knew they wouldn't be the sort to smash the wedding cake into each other's face after the cake-cutting. (Don't you just hate that?)

And what a wedding they had. Between Oprah and Colin Cowie, how could you not have a grand wedding. Actually, it was Colin who arranged everything, but it was Oprah's money that paid for it all. I sat there wondering if today's wedding was the dream wedding that Oprah would have if she wanted to get married.

I said that to my sister on the phone just a little while ago, and she said that if Oprah wanted to get married, her wedding would be even better. Maybe so. But how much better can you get than what was shown today? I mean really-- they had fresh roses hanging from the ceiling on nearly-invisible threads, so it looked like they were suspended in air. Hundreds of roses and floral arrangements, and they even added fresh plantings outside the California hotel. And all those candles everywhere you looked.... yards of silk, beaded seat covers and tableclothes.... and a one-of-a-kind gown by Vera Wang.

As my sister said.... all that money... wasted. Well, Oprah didn't seem to think it was wasted. She looked to be having a fine time herself at that wedding. "And where was Stedman?" said my sister. "And Gayle?" They had to be there somewhere, I'm sure... they just didn't get into the camera's eye, I guess.

I told my husband that I'd be watching that wedding this afternoon, and I told him my theory about maybe Oprah giving this couple the wedding that she would give herself should she want to be married. "And why doesn't Oprah get married?" he wanted to know. I told him she didn't have to.... she doesn't want children.... she has her own company, her own life, her own rules, her own everything. I seem to remember her saying, on one of her shows long ago, that she never believed that one piece of paper could make you "feel married."

This afternoon, after my husband left, I thought that maybe Oprah didn't want to get married because she simply wanted to stay Oprah, and keep her life, her company, her rules, her self. Period. Somehow, her lifestyle works for her. And it must be working for Stedman as well, because he's still with her after all these years. (And I can hear my sister saying "Now is he in the Chicago apartment, or the Indiana farm, or the California house, or the new house in Hawaii?")

Maya Angelou

The following quotes were sent to me via eMail by my cousin R. Maya Angelou was on the Oprah show back in April, celebrating her 74th birthday. Oprah asked Maya what she thought of growing older, and Maya said it was "exciting."

Her thoughts on growing older need to be passed along. Maya Angelou said the following:

"I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.

"I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.

"I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.

"I've learned that making a 'living' is not the same thing as making a 'life.'

"I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.

"I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back.

"I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision.

"I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one.

"I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.

"I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.

"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

The Polar Express

I have four words for everyone today: Go see this movie!

My husband and I caught the first showing of the movie this morning. Early Monday seems to be a great time to catch a movie, if you can-- no lines, no crowds, easy parking. But-- the movie... fantastic! One of the best Christmas movies to come along in quite some time. We like to see anything that Tom Hanks is connected to, and The Polar Express is just outstanding. I've seen the book that it was adapted from, and I plan to buy that and add it to my collection of Christmas books.

We sat there this morning laughing out loud, holding our breath, and then crying and wiping our eyes with tissues. You will go through every emotion possible during this film. Oprah had featured it on one of her recent shows, and said the movie called for a box of tissues. So I was prepared.

The on-going theme of this film is the simple word "Believe." Which I didn't realize till we saw the movie this morning. The invitations I picked out for our Christmas party have the same theme. On the front of the invitation card, there's a pretty cup and saucer that is filled with steaming hot chocolate and topped with whipped cream. Painted on the cup is Santa and his reindeer-powered sleigh. The reindeer are prancing through a star-filled midnight sky. On the saucer underneath the cup, there are twinkling stars, and the word "Believe" is written in blue letters. When my friend A and I saw the cards in a bookstore, I knew right away that those were the perfect invitations for our Christmas party.

The Polar Express is literally a train on its way to the North Pole. During the ride north, you can hear the whistle of the train. I don't know about you, but I love the sound of a train whistle. We have a train here that crosses Highway 3 several times a day. On very quiet, still mornings and evenings, we can hear the whistle of that train if we're sitting on the screen-porch. Wonderful sound: adventurous and poignant at the same time.

This afternoon, as we were driving away from the movie theatre on our way to Hot Wok for lunch, my husband stopped the car at a red light on NASA Road One. We sat there talking about the movie, and all of a sudden, my husband clicked the button to roll down the front windows. Clear as a bell, we both heard the train whistle from Highway 3. We looked at one another and burst out laughing and crying. Totally unbelievable timing for that train whistle! We were still shaking our heads over that when we got to the restaurant. And no doubt that we heard it, honestly.

After lunch, as we drove on the roads near the Johnson Space Center, we saw six deer grazing on the grass near the road. There are always groups of deer around the Space Center, but usually they stay inside the fences there. Today's deer were right outside the fence. Guess they found a way to get out, and I hope the day doesn't have a sad ending for them. There were four adults and two very young ones, and I'm hoping they find their way back into the protective fence.

No matter how happy the holidays are, this time of the year is also an emotional time. Holidays not only make new memories, but they bring back a lot of old memories. This will be our first Christmas since my husband's mom passed away. I thought of her a lot during the movie this morning, which was why I cried so much. I miss her every day, even though I really believe she is in this house and around us all the time.

She believed that no matter what happens in this world, no matter how bad you think it is, life does go on in a sensible way. That's what she truly believed. And that's what I try to remember every day.

Sunday Shoes

Another cloudy, damp and cool day here. Perfect day for shoe shopping. A and I went to "Shoe Cents," a wonderful shoe store with thousands upon thousands of shoes. All in boxes, all lined up in wide, neat aisles. You pick your own size, try them on, put them back or have them held at the front desk for you. Every color, every style, for every season. And lots of sales going on all the time. The end-of-season mark-downs are in the back of the store, with prices really slashed down. (No boxes on those shoes, because they put them out on racks. But at those prices, you can do without the boxes.)

Today was 50%-off on boots. We weren't looking for boots. We both have western boots, and if it gets that cold, those are the boots we'll be wearing, considering the price we paid for those boots in Cavender's Western Store.

And did we find shoes? Of course. We were both looking for closed shoes, and I was looking for tropical-looking sandals for an upcoming trip to St. Thomas. I found a pair of pink sandals with a large pink and silver flower on the toe. I tried one on and said to A: "Are these a bit too much?" She couldn't stop laughing. Say no more... back on the shelf those went.

A found me a blue/pink/turquoise shoe--- multi-colored 1960's design. Too cute, and they fit perfectly. No sooner did I decide on those and I found the same shoe in a green/yellow/gold multi-color... bought those as well, since I have a pair of green slacks that they'll match perfectly. (Shoe Rule #1: If the shoe fits... buy it in every color.)

We were looking at those open-back/closed-toe shoes that everyone is wearing these days. Most of those styles have such pointy toes. I mean, honestly--- who can wear those? Your toes can't even get into the toe of the shoe, so your heels are hanging out the back, and how can you walk in them? (Oprah wears those on her show, but she's sitting down, not walking around.)

A found a style with an open back that had a normal-looking front... soft as butter and they looked great on her. I found the same shoe in my size. Comfortable, soft, easy to walk in. Had to buy those as well. (Shoe Rule #2: If the shoe doesn't feel soft and comfy the first time you wear it, then don't buy it. Any shoe that has to be broken in will only cramp your toes and ruin your posture.)

We came back to my house when we were through. A left her shoes in my car, and walked in my door holding my two shopping bags filled with boxes of shoes. My husband saw them and thought one bag was hers and one was mine. She explained that all of those were mine and hers were still in the car. He said something like "Good thing she cleaned out her closets last week."

Men just don't understand shoes. Or the allure of a lot of shoes. I went shoe shopping with my husband a few years ago. We went to a men's shoe outlet and he found five or six pairs that he liked, that fit, and were comfortable. He stood there deciding which one to buy? What????

"Buy all of them," said I. He said that he didn't need all of them all at once. Some were casual, some were for dress-wear, some were for business. He said he wasn't used to buying more than one pair at a time. "Live a little," said I. My husband said "Fine, I'll buy them all, and then I won't have to go shoe shopping for at least eight years." What???

As I said... men just don't understand shoes. A and I will be ready for shoe shopping again come January. After all, that's when Shoe Cents has their after-holiday sales.

Saturday Shopping

Cold out again today, and not a drop of sun. Temperature was around 60 - 65, but without the sun, it felt much colder. Definitely a day for slacks, a coat, and even a scarf. Stupid weather.

There are so many Christmas Festivals, Bazaars and Markets at this time of the year. They start right at the beginning of November, and go all the way through till Christmas week. Every church group, ladies' group, knitting group, arts & crafts society-- you name it, they have a holiday market. My friend A and I went to two of them today. And would you believe-- all we bought were gourmet dog biscuits. I guess we've had our fill of the artsy-crafty stuff that's down here year after year. (Been there, seen it, bought it. And now--- over it, donated it.)

They had the good stuff too, of course--- jewelry, clothing, pillows, furniture...... but how much of that can you buy? And the one pillow/purse lady that we keep looking for-- we haven't seen her since Spring-time. She makes one-of-a-kind plush pillows, footstools, and the cutest handbags.

So next year we'll have a different plan. We will bypass all the smaller sales and festivals in the Clear Lake area and take ourselves to downtown Houston. There is a four-day event sponsored by the Houston Ballet. It's so large that they hold it at Reliant Center now and they have hundreds of vendors from all over the country. I've avoided that event every year for just that reason-- the more vendors, the more buyers. Which means you have to deal with traffic, parking, and hundreds of women with either strollers or suitcases on wheels. The strollers, of course, to hold their children; the suitcases to hold all of their purchases.

But next year's plan is to be at Reliant Center on the first day of the holiday market, which is on a Thursday. If we get there right when they open up, the crowds won't be too bad, and neither will the driving into downtown or the parking. As for these small church-sponsored events--- if I see one more reindeer made out of popsicle sticks or one more angel made from handkerchiefs, I think I will just scream. And the funniest thing this year--- a Hershey's silver-papered chocolate kiss, with a white pom-pom glued to its top, two white feathers glued on the back, and presto: a chocolate angel. (Cute thing for kids to make-- but for grown women to make? Then expect to sell for $1.50 each? Give me a blessed break.)

However, on the bright side, we had a nice time looking around and laughing at the silly things people can think of to put together. And painted wood lawn signs, by the way--- definitely not popular anymore. The vendors at those booths weren't selling a one of them. (And what do they do with 37 wooden Winnie the Poohs wearing Santa hats?)

We went to the Greek Deli for a birthday lunch to celebrate A's birthday this coming week. This is A's third birthday in Texas. For her first Texas birthday, we took her to a Texas-style restaurant, where the waiters come out singing "It's a yaaaaa-hooooooo Texas birthday for you-aaaaaaaalllll!" But that was her first year here-- she's gotten over that.

And that's about the story. Tomorrow, we're hoping for sun and warmer temperatures. A and I are planning to go to our favorite shoe store. When the cold weather set in the other day, we both realized that the only closed shoes we have are our western boots. Everything else is either a sandal or an open-toe. However-- any excuse to go to that shoe store will do. (Great store--- name brands, designer shoes, at unbelievable prices. You can easily walk out with six pairs of shoes for under $100.) And didn't I just clean out my closets? I donated half a dozen pairs of shoes. Well, you know what that means, don't you? I've got room in there for six pairs of new shoes!

Friday.... 65 degrees today, 85 yesterday......

And "baby, it's cold outside," as that old song goes. Cold for here, that is. But I'm sure my friends and my sister up in New York would think that 65 degrees on a November day is a heat wave. Down here, we call it a cold snap.

Lots of errands this morning.... post office, the bank, Kroger, the bagel store, the Senior Center (to bring donations-- I am not a member!). Had my hair trimmed and stopped at the Hot Wok for take-out. I came home with enough food for lunch and dinner today, as well as lunch and dinner tomorrow, and then some. They make wonderful "summer rolls" there-- fresh shrimp and vegetables rolled up in rice-paper, served fresh, not fried-- totally delicious and they aren't fried, so you can eat them and smile. As opposed to eating them and imagining your arteries clogging up with every bite.

After I had my hair trimmed, I stopped into a League City shop called Nana's Attic. They have all kinds of wonderful coffee beans there, and they grind them fresh for you. There's one coffee called "Angel's Kiss" that my friend A discovered and told my husband about... it's his favorite coffee so I hate to run out of it. Smells delicious when it's perking, but I'm not a coffee drinker so I've never tasted it. Just the aroma is enough for me.

I was "playing" with the chandelier in my sitting room last night. This is the one that used to be in our dining room. I love that fixture... found it at a yard sale for $20. It's absolutely gorgeous. It wasn't when I found it-- my husband had to take it apart and clean & polish it. Talk about a diamond in the rough... it was really rough. But I knew it would be fabulous underneath the dirt and dust that coated it. And did I mention that it was missing half of its crystals? Between yard sales and flea markets, I found all the matching crystals that it needed, poor thing.

So last night, I added even more crystals to it. Beautiful glass tear-drop shapes of amber and amethyst glass. They were in my husband's mom's basement, just sitting in a box. I didn't know what I would do with them, but I knew they were vintage treasures. Now they are dripping here and there from my chandelier and they make a fabulous fixture even more so.

As I'm typing this, my oldest cat (Rusty) is trying to make himself comfortable on the pink velvet fainting sofa in my sitting room here. As soon as he walked into this room, I knew where he was headed, so I got up and spread a pink & green cotton afghan over the pink velvet. Well, you would think I'm forcing him to sit on a bed of nails. He's behind me now, meowing and using his paw to try and move the cotton afghan out of his way. Now honestly-- can this cat really know the difference between the pink velvet and the pink & green cotton? Apparently so, judging from the grunts and moans I'm hearing. Talk about spoiled. Well... he's not going to win this one. That pink velvet is pristine, and that's the way I'm keeping it. Rusty will have to make do with the cotton afghan. Cats. I swear, they're like babies.

I'm not as stressed as yesterday. Probably because I'm just getting things done instead of looking at my list of all the things that I need to get done. As my husband's mom would say-- you can only do one thing at a time, so don't worry about the next thing till you've finished what you're doing. Truthfully, I think I just got stressed out because I was stuck here while the chandeliers were being put up. I knew the chandeliers would take time, but all I could think of was everything I had to get done before the end of the week.

I stopped at the Senior Center this morning. I gave the director there all the sweaters that belonged to my husband's mom. She couldn't believe that they weren't brand new. I'm sure they were worn just once or twice, and I had them all dry-cleaned so they're nice and fresh. She will sell raffle tickets for each one, a quarter or fifty cents per ticket. All the money they collect goes into the fund they keep for their bus trips. Plus the winners get to pick their choice of those lovely sweaters. Wonderful!

I told my husband to get used to looking at the table-top Victorian Christmas tree that's in the corner of our bedroom now. I have it up on top of a round drum-shaped table, and that's where it's going to stay, even after the holidays are over. I used to keep it on the floor in my storage closet, but since I cleaned out that closet this week, I don't want anything that big on the floor in there anymore. It's a pain to get around it, and it seems that with every passing Christmas, that Victorian tree gets heavier and heavier. I never un-decorate it... I had always put it away as is. It's filled with Victorian ornaments-- shoes and purses, dresses and fans, tiny dolls, and there are strings of faux pearls for garland. I've got pink roses stuck all over and inbetween the branches, so it looks sort of like an overgrown topiary. In the corner it is, and in the corner it will stay. Much better there than bringing it back into that closet. In that corner of our bedroom, it's going to be Christmas all year long.

Now I understand why so many people here rent storage spaces. We have no basements in southeast Texas, so you lose that storage space. Attics here are too hot, garages can get too damp. So when you have a lot of seasonal things, what do you do? You either rent a storage space (which I refuse to do) or you down-size what you keep (which I've done). My rule is that if it doesn't fit into my storage closets, then I don't need it.

Anyway... that's my story for this cloudy cold-snapping Friday. Not a drop of sun out there today, so the 65 degrees feels at least 10 degrees colder. I'm sitting here in a heavy sweater and corduroy slacks. No bare feet and sandals today-- knee-hi stockings and shoes is the order of the day here. No fair! Summer disappeared without a warning!

Relax.... Just Relax....

---- That's what I keep telling AngelBoy. I need to follow the same advice. AngelBoy is out of sorts because the dining room table has been in the middle of the living room since yesterday. I'm out of sorts because no matter how far in advance you plan for these holidays, they seem to be right behind you wherever you go.

The dining room chandelier is being put up as I type. They started the job yesterday, and had they not needed a special bolt for the ceiling, this would've been finished yesterday. Which is why the dining room table is in the living room, not the dining room. No sense in setting it back where it belongs because they would've had to move it out again today. AngelBoy has been practicing the fine art of posing as a centerpiece. Smack in the middle of the dining room table. He was just sitting there last night, as cute as he could be, blue eyes blinking on his new throne.

I told him to get off of the dining room table and he looked at me. As if to say this table isn't in the dining room anymore, in case you haven't noticed. So he just sat there and blinked at me. Blink, blink: I am king of this castle, lord of this table.

The Christmas party invitations will go in the mail tomorrow. My husband and I spent another lunch-hour today discussing what we will need for the party. About half-way through the discussion, I asked him "Just whose idea was this anyway?" Which is what I always say when I get stressed out before a party.

Relax, he said. The party is four weeks away. Easy for him to say. Between now and the party, I need to get my hair trimmed and the color touched up. We'll be going to the Manilow concert, and also going out of town for a couple of days. I need to figure out what to wear for our party, for my friend A's party, for the holiday party where my husband works. I'll be keeping count of who will be coming to our party, making sure we have enough food and desserts for everyone, plus coffee, tea and soft-drinks. A zillion details to remember. I think I'm getting overwhelmed with details right about now, but this happens every year around this time.

You've heard that old saying "Love is in the details." Well, add this: "Stress is in the details as well." Ah... but all those little details make all the difference in the world.

Everything above was written about two hours ago....... As I'm typing now, the chandelier is up in the dining room, the chandelier is up in my sitting room. Both look beautiful....... my husband will be suprised when he gets home. When my husband's mom's chandelier was finally hanging up over our dining room table (which was hers as well) my eyes just puddled up. Her dining room table, her chandelier: together again. It is both wonderful and sad to have her things here. And she is here as well. I just know it.

I guess I'm all typed out for today. Between getting up before dawn the second day in a row, finishing up with the closet with my coats and dress-clothes, re-arranging the holiday decoration storage boxes, and taking out Christmas decorations for the house...... I'm just plain tired. It has been a day. And it's not over yet. I never got to exercise this afternoon, so I will do that tonight while watching The Apprentice.

I should just quit typing. I am rambling on and not making much sense. Tomorrow is another day, Scarlett.

Wednesday: 80 degrees here, 34 degrees there.

...There being New York. Brrrrr.... makes me cold just thinking about that temperature. I was just on the phone with my cousin R, who lives in Queens and works in Manhattan. Thirty-four degrees... I told her she's living in the wrong zip code. Which is what I tell everyone up there.

I keep telling my cousin to come visit us. We've been living here for eleven years and she has yet to set a toe into Clear Lake. Tsk, tsk, my sweet cousin. She needs to see what life can be like outside of Queens and NYC. I've been saying the same thing to my sister and my friend F for years. My sister and her husband visited here in 1995. And they loved it. Everyone loves it here, which is why everyone here wants everyone there to move. (Let me re-phrase that-- we only ask the people we like to move here. Everyone else can stay there.)

We were up and awake before dawn this morning. My husband finished some computer work, I finished my closet. Amazing how many things were hiding out in that closet that I hadn't worn in such a long time. I also went through my dress-closet and my bedroom dresser and took out clothes that I used to wear when I was working up in NY. Into the donation box they went. Someone will be happy to have them. Classic things that will always be in style if you're working in an office. As I took out those silk blouses, I had to shake my head in amazement. Why did I keep them for all these years? I guess simply because they were too pretty, too new-looking, to just give away. But this morning, I took them (with my eyes closed) and put them into the donation box. I know I won't be missing them.

The workman was here before 9:00 this morning. He unwrapped the chandelier that will go up in our dining room and found that he needed a special bolt for the ceiling. So that's where he is now-- trying to find a bolt that will fit this fixture. I told both him and my husband that I didn't want the "old" chandelier taken down till we're sure the new one can be put up correctly.

I checked Oprah's auctions on eBay this morning. There are 50 items up for bids. Only one dress there that I would like to have, but I won't be bidding. The bids are already coming in fast and furious and I'm sure the final prices will be much higher than the bids from Oprah's audience during yesterday's show. Besides that, my closet is now done, finished, all set. Which means if one thing goes in, then one thing has to come out. And I am sticking to that golden rule now. I'll also be listening to Oprah's rule--- if you don't love it, don't wear it. (Which means it shouldn't be taking up space in a drawer or in the closet.)

All the invitations for our Christmas party are now addressed and ready to be mailed. I addressed the last of them this morning. 78 people on that list... 70 adults, 8 children. I'll mail the cards out during Thanksgiving week. The invitations for Christmas dinner are all written out, so those are ready to go as well, but I'll wait to get till after the party to mail them. Just nine of us for Christmas dinner. I really don't have to do written invitations for that, but I found such cute cards. I've been keeping a notebook on our parties, saving one invitation and writing down what decorations I had around the house, and what kind of party-favors we gave. I wish I had started that notebook when we first moved here... I'd have half of the pages filled by now. (And I'd remember what favors we gave, because I hate to repeat things.)

That's about it for the morning. Gracie is barking and barking, so either the mailman is here, or the workman is back with the bolt for the chandelier.

Tuesday Midnight

After watching Oprah this afternoon, I decided that my own closets needed a serious look-see. It's nearly midnight and I've just finished. I started with my closet in the dressing room of our bedroom. Too many shoes on the floor, for one thing. I went through all of them and eliminated four pairs, which are now in a donation box in the garage. I put all the colors together-- way too many black shoes, so I won't be buying anymore of those for a while.

Then I went through my sweaters and I now have a shopping bag of nearly-new sweaters for the ladies in the Senior Center. Most of those belonged to my husband's mother. When she passed away back in February of this year, I thought that wearing some of her sweaters would make me feel better. It worked for a while, then I just left them in the closet and looked at them. Now I look at them and see sweaters that are too "old" for me. The ladies at the Senior Center will love them. They're already in the back seat of my car and I'll drop them off the next time I'm down that way.

I have to rearrange that closet of mine... lots of shelves in there for the shoes, but I'm just too tired to start that now. I also should go through the closet in the computer room where I keep my dress-up clothes. I know there are clothes in there that I moved down here from NY. We've been here since 1993, so I know that some, if not all, of those things can be donated. I've gone through that closet every year and little by little, I've donated NY clothes to local charities. And why am I still holding onto the rest? No other reason other than they were favorite dresses up in NY and I guess I just like to know they're still there. (Ridiculous reason.) I can still wear them, but I don't. They're "too NY" for Clear Lake, I guess. And of course, I have clothes that are "too Clear Lake" for New York.

Oprah will be auctioning her clothing on eBay, starting tomorrow. Her audience today had a mini-auction of some of Oprah's designer clothes. People went crazy with the bidding. Either they truly loved the clothes, or they just wanted something of Oprah's so they could tell their friends that they owned something once worn by Oprah. Now that's an expensive brag... the bids went into the thousands. There was one gentleman there who bid (and won) a red gown for his wife. His bid was $8000. When the auction was over, he hugged his wife, who sort of looked stunned. Pardon me for saying so, but that red satin dress with the crystal-beaded shoulder straps just looked too Hollywood for that woman.

I've promised myself to go through my other closet this week, plus all of my dresser drawers. I am sure there are clothes in there that don't meet the requirements for keeping them. Oprah's closet-organizers on today's show said that you should ask yourself three questions when deciding what to keep and what to give away. Do you love the clothes? Do they portray the image you want to project? Do they make you feel alive? (I'm pretty sure those were the questions, but right now I'm just too tired to bet the farm on that.)

And, the golden rule of neat and clean closets--- if you bring one thing in, then one thing has to go out. Obviously, I wasn't following that rule with black shoes. But I do my best to follow that rule when I buy clothes. There's always a box in my garage for donations. And just about every time that I get a call from Big Brothers & Sisters or Purple Heart or Houston Achievement Place, I can tell them that I've got a box ready for pick-up.

Maybe I will continue to go through my closets while the workers are here tomorrow installing the chandelier. I'd love to go through my husband's closet and dresser. Heaven knows there are enough things in there that he hasn't worn in years and most likely never will. I told him about Oprah's show tonight while we were eating dinner. He was not inspired to clean out his closet. And I will stop myself from doing it for him. (First thing I'd be tossing is the green shirt he wears when he walks Gracie. I wouldn't even donate it-- it's long since past that stage. I'm waiting for it to just fall apart in the washing machine one of these days.)

The most amazing thing about Oprah's show today, by the way-- the size of her closet, and the size of her friend Gayle's closet. Both are huge-- the size of a super-large living room. Shelves and racks and drawers wherever you look, floor to ceiling. I'm not complaining, since I have two walk-in closets of my own. But imagine... to have a walk-in room for a closet? I'd be shopping till the cows came home.

If I'm Sitting at a Grand Piano, Then It's Tuesday...

Went this morning to see K for my piano lesson. I didn't do as badly as I thought I would. (Why does my music work better on my piano than on K's grand piano? I keep telling her there's something wrong with her grand, but she doesn't believe me.) I do know one thing, and so does K-- if I don't like the music I'm playing, then I don't play it well. Most likely because if I don't like it, I don't practice it enough to learn how to play it correctly. Some things never change... I was the same way with algebra. I hated it, didn't learn it, couldn't do it then, can't do it now, and and it hasn't made a bit of difference in my life. I can balance my checkbook to the penny, and that's what counts.

Contrary to what they told you in the Catholic schools of the 1950s-- there is no "permanent record" on which all your foibles are recorded. Don't even get me started with the Catholic schools. When we were at dinner at B and P's house on Sunday night, one of the other couples they invited was their minister and his wife. As the conversation got onto religion, I sat there hoping that the dear preacher wouldn't ask me which church I was affiliated with. I wouldn't have just picked the name of a local church from memory, nor would I have wanted to get into my speech about being a Catholic until I came of age and came to my senses. As I said-- don't get me started.

It's a glorious, beautiful, sunny and warm blue-sky day here. So pretty a day that you can just stand in your backyard and cry because you live right on this Texas-dot of the planet. My friend A and I went to the local college this afternoon. They're hosting their annual Christmas Market. Lots of beaded jewelry, handpainted and/or handsewn holiday decorations, candles and cookie mixes and dried fruits. I was very good-- didn't buy anything for myself, but found two nice gifts for my young friends C and L. I've already finished my Christmas shopping for those girls, and their gifts are wrapped up, so I've put today's treasures in their birthday bags for next year. (See how easy it is to stay ahead of yourself?)

One of the booths at the craft show this afternoon was filled with every dried fruit and nut you can think of. I picked up a bag that said "dried grapefruit" on the label. Looked interesting. Before I could blink, the lady behind the table had taken a sample out of a covered dish and had it speared on a fork and held it out to me for tasting. "Tastes just like Texas ruby-red grapefruit," said she. Not until I had it in my mouth did the lady add "But not a dollop of real grapefruit in there-- isn't that amazing?" Yes, totally amazing, I told her. It did taste like grapefruit, but if I want to eat a grapefruit, then that's what I'll eat... not a substitute-slice of heaven only knows what was in there. Unfortunately, there wasn't a trash bin close by, so I did the proper thing and smiled and chewed and swallowed it and thanked the nice lady before A and I continued on our way. (If I start to glow in the dark later on tonight... it was the pseudo-grapefruit.)

Today's Oprah show should be interesting. Oprah has cleaned out her closets and is selling some of her outfits. A and I were wondering if she's going to be listing items on eBay again. She did that last year with a few things.... the bidding was outrageous. All the money went to Oprah's Angel Network, so that was a good thing. But how can fans with "normal" incomes even hope to bid on and win her things?

Oprah's "Favorite Things" show will be coming up soon. She usually has that before the holidays. Now wouldn't you love to be in the audience for that show? My sister and I watched the Favorite Things show last year-- she watched in NY, I was watching here. One of the favorites was a necklace by a designer that I just can't remember right now (was it Julia Ripka, or something like that?). Anyway, when I saw that necklace, I knew my sister would love it. Unlike me, who totally loves jewelry, my sister doesn't drool over jewelry showcases. But when Oprah showed that necklace, I knew my sister was up in NY saying "Now that I could live with."

I found that necklace for her on eBay. In fact, I bought it from one of the women who was in Oprah's audience that day. That lucky girl got two necklaces because both she and her husband were in the audience. She kept one and sold one, so my sister's necklace was actually given out on the Oprah show that day. My sister was totally surprised when she opened the box last year. She loved the necklace, but had put it out of her mind. Not only did I buy the "Oprah necklace" for her, but I bought one for myself as well. (From Saks, not from an audience member.) Not that I need to have my arm twisted for a new piece of jewelry, but I thought it would be neat for both my sister and I to have one piece of jewelry that was identical. ("Now you both have the same thing, so you won't fight." -- Which is what our mother used to tell us when we were little.)

That's been about the day. I've got more laundry in the dryer as I'm typing this. Which is totally a royal pain. Two people in this house-- where does all the laundry come from? Although I guess it doesn't help that I change the bed-sheets every three or four days. I've been doing that since the Oprah show where they showed the teeny-tiny microscopic crawl-y things that find their way to bed linens after four days. So ever since then, I've been changing the sheets twice a week instead of once a week. The power of Oprah. She can make you buy a necklace and make you change your sheets. One of these days, someone will convince her to run for President and she will change the world... starting with your jewelry boxes and your bed linens. And, of course, your reading habits, since millions and millions of people reading books every month with Oprah's Book Club.

Monday Afternoon

I have a large pot of lentil soup cooking on the stove as I type... plus the dishwasher is doing its thing. I've already been grocery shopping, gone to the cleaners, and I spent part of this morning boxing up items that sold on eBay earlier this afternoon. I haven't practiced piano yet, and I'm seriously behind with last week's lesson. Haven't exercised yet, so I will do that while I watch Oprah this afternoon. Can't miss the exercising. That is a must-do, six days out of seven.

My husband just walked in the door looking for a late lunch, Gracie is waiting for a walk, and every couple of minutes, I have to go inside and get ShadowBaby away from Rusty. This must be one of the days when ShadowBaby wants to play "King Cat" around here, because if he isn't going after Rusty, he's going after AngelBoy (who is now out in the backyard sitting on the grass underneath the bird-feeder).

Today is one of those days when I wish there were more hours in a day. Or just less things to do in a day's hours. I had too many auctions ending on eBay today, and they ended less than half an hour after I walked into the house with the groceries. So that was my fault-- not paying attention to the ending times of the auctions. What on earth was I thinking? Looking back to last week, I probably just wanted to list as many items as I could today because I won't be listing anything for a while. With the holidays coming up, I don't want to be bothered with eBay.

The workers who installed our new shower will be back here this Wednesday morning. They will be taking down our dining room chandelier and putting up the chandelier that was in Gary's mom's dining room up in New York. It's been sitting in its box in our garage since the moving truck brought it down in June, along with other things from mom's house. I hadn't wanted anyone to touch it until I found someone I could trust to put it up for us. Thankfully, the contractor who coordinated all the workers for the bathroom also has other workers who can do everything else in a house. So that will be on the schedule for Wednesday.

When the dining room chandelier comes down, they will put the one that's now in the dining room up in my sitting room. The one that's now in my sitting room will come down and I may sell it on eBay. Musical chandeliers. I love the one that's in our dining room now, and I don't want to part with it. I had found it years ago at a yard sale. Only $20, and it's gorgeous. My husband had to take it apart and clean it and put it back together, but he enjoyed the project. That chandelier will look wonderful in my sitting room because it's very Victorian. The one that's here now is less ornate.... still pretty, but not very Victorian. It also was a yard sale find at only ten or fifteen dollars.

We have Gary's mom's dining room set in our dining room now. It also came on the moving truck this past summer. I know that having her chandelier over that table will mean a lot to my husband. Especially that it will be up for the holidays. There's something from Gary's mom's home in every room, and that makes us both feel good. She passed away in February. Some days, it feels like yesterday. Other days, it feels like forever.

Time to get back into the kitchen. The lentil soup needs stirring. The dishwasher is about ready to be emptied. My husband has gone back to work. Gracie is sound asleep and will wait till after Oprah for her walk (she knows the routine). Rusty and ShadowBaby are sleeping, and I'm sure that AngelBoy is waiting by the screen-porch door to come back inside.

More hours in a day. That's what I'd like today. This is one of those days when I have to laugh at people who ask me: "So-- what do you do all day long?"

Sunday Afternoon

It's been a glorious day today.... sunny, warm, hardly a breeze..... and the neighborhood is as quiet as a church. Not a lawnmower in sight, nor in hearing distance.

We sat out in the yard this morning, with all the kids. Even ShadowBaby was outside today. He's an inside cat, but sometimes my husband likes to be his hero and he will let him out to play in the backyard. I'm not exactly thrilled with that, because then ShadowBaby will always want to go out. And how do you explain to this baby cat that the back door is okay, but the front door isn't. When ShadowBaby is out in the yard, I am out there watching him like a mother hen. I can't help it. The other two cats are used to the yard and are content within the fences. I don't know if ShadowBaby would try and climb the fence, nor do I care to find out.

We're going out for dinner tonight, to our friends B & P's home. They've been here for dinner, and to some of our Charades and Christmas parties, but this will be our first time to their house. Funny story about how B and I met.

B is a "BOI," which means "born on the island." The island being Galveston. He writes a column for a local paper, and a few years ago, he turned all of his columns into a book. Wonderful book that I found at one of our local bookstores, even though he had a book-signing at Barnes & Noble.

I read his book not once, but twice. Wonderful stories (all true) about growing up in Galveston, and about the local characters and celebrities who lived there. After the second reading, the book just sat on my shelves. As I got new books, I had to make room on those bookshelves. Can't keep everything. So periodically, I weed through the shelves and take out books that I give to friends, or sell on Half.com or eBay. With B's book, I thought eBay was the way to go, so I listed it.

Within a day of the listing, I had an eMail from the irate author. Why on earth was I selling his book? And starting it at such a low price? Did I read the book? And if so, how could I be parting with a book he put his heart and soul into?

Of course, I eMailed right back, and asked him why I should believe that he was indeed the author and not just some nut who bothers eBay sellers? eMails flew back and forth, and he convinced me that he was who he said he was. Ooops.

B told me that if I would stop the auction, he would trade me one of his signed hardcovers for my softcover copy. Not only that, but he'd deliver it personally, since he wanted to meet the person who had the nerve to peddle his book on eBay.

Far be it from me to resist such an offer, so we agreed to meet. He came here one afternoon a few years ago and he and my husband and I spent a couple of hours talking. Wonderful afternoon. And he signed a hardcover copy of his book for me, which is still on my shelves, and I've read it three times now. The next time we all met, we got to meet B's wife P. We've all been friends ever since... they come to our house for the parties, we've met them at restaurants for dinner from time to time. And B and I eMail one another a few times a week.

B, however, doesn't understand my devotion to Barry Manilow. He makes fun of me all the time about that. Usually starts off with "Why would a grown woman...." He can press my Manilow-buttons and get me going. I think he does it just to get a rise out of me. He was sympathetic, however, when I told him that last week's Manilow concert was cancelled because Barry had bronchitis. Either he was truly sympathetic, or he's just letting a little time go by so he can zing me on that one.

I don't trust B where Manilow is concerned. Not even on my bookshelves--- his Galveston book is certainly up on the shelves, but it's a couple of bookshelves away from Sweet Life (Barry's book)... I'm not taking any chances.

So that's about the story of the day here. I typed this entry earlier this morning, and tried to print/publish it and something went wrong with the server. I lost everything I typed. Now where on earth does it go when that happens? I know I typed it, so it's lost in here somewhere. Heaven only knows if this one will go through. I hope it does, because I don't want to type it all a third time.