Floor Tiles and Then Some

Who knew there would be so many choices of tile flooring. Do we really need 1,348 selections? Enough to get you dizzy, I swear. The one tile that we found in Home Depot last weekend that we thought would be perfect turned out to be our least favorite this morning. Not to mention the fact that the contractor looked at that thin Home Depot tile, turned it over and said "Just as I thought.... made in Thailand."

According to the contractor, the best tiles are made in Italy, Spain, and Mexico. All of which he happens to have on display in his showroom. Stacked up against our humble tile from Thailand, there was no comparison. His were thicker, better made. Okay, score one for the contractor.

My husband and I looked at all the tiles. Or maybe I should say that I stopped looking after the 68th sample.... my husband looked at every one of them. It's the researcher in him... he can't help it. We narrowed it down to six, then five, then three. My husband asked the contractor if we could take those three home to see how they looked in the bathroom. Which made me groan.... thinking of another delay.... (Can't we just pick out one and place the order and get on with this?)

The contractor agreed with my husband. Men. They all stick together. "Take them home.... they'll look different on your floor than they do here." So we did. And they did look different... one was darker, the other was lighter, the third just perfect. And the one I thought would be my last choice turned out to be the one we both liked the best and the one we chose. I turned to my husband with a smile on my face and said "Now aren't you glad I wanted to bring the tiles home to see how they looked here?"

After picking out the tiles this morning, we followed the contractor to the plumbing supply outlet. We needed to pick out a new commode for the bathroom. Which was my idea, because I couldn't see re-installing an old toilet on top of a brand new tile floor. The contractor agreed with that too, of course.

The first commode we saw was the one that I liked, even though there were less to choose from at the plumbing supply store than there were in Home Depot. But at least we could see them this morning.... the ones in Home Depot required a 25-foot ladder in order to tell one from the other. I don't like to stand on ladders when I shop.

We looked at a catalog this morning.... my husband looked at the catalog. The pictures were so small in the catalog that I didn't want to be picking out a commode that way, not with the choices we had in the showroom. We got the first one that we saw, even though it was more than we thought we'd be spending on a commode.

After that decision was made, the plumbing salesman asked "Now, what type of seat would you like for that commode?"

Pardon me? We're spending over $300 on a commode and it doesn't come with a seat? Live and learn, I swear.

We asked the contractor how long this project will take. He has to order the tile, and the commode also has to be delivered from up in Brazos County. He told us that once he gets all the supplies in, doing the work should take "no more than a day, maybe a day and a half."

I behaved myself. I didn't ask him to put that in writing and have it notarized.

Tools R Us

I want to know where all those handymen are hiding.

You know the ones....... they show up on decorating shows on the Home & Garden channel.... they look like members of The Village People. Some of them look like they dance on a stage at night after they've been hammering and sawing wood all day long.

Not only do they look good, and speak fluent English, but they can tear down an entire house and rebuild it in seven days, and that includes furniture, carpeting, artwork, and a bowl of fresh red apples on the coffee table.

Those handymen haven't set foot over the state lines in Texas. Oprah may have them up in Chicago working with Nate, but they're not anywhere around here.

You may remember that we had a new shower installed in the master bathroom last year. Lovely. A very nice job. Last week, I noticed that the ceiling of that shower was separating from the sheetrock behind it. Wonderful.

I got on the phone to the contractor who took care of all the work. He sent the marble guys to our house. A little hard to communicate.... I didn't speak enough of their language, they didn't speak enough of mine. But I pointed out the problem, which they could easily see.

"No problem..." they told me, as they set out to fix it.

Fix it they did. And I thought that was the end of it. Till my husband got up there and noticed that by fixing it, they drilled three screws into the faux marble to tighten it into the sheetrock, then filled the holes with grout. "Not acceptable," said my husband.

Back on the phone.... back came the two men with their limited English and their full toolbox. They took out the grout, went to their truck and mixed up some of the faux marble compound, and re-filled the screw-holes with that.

The marble matched up very well. I could live with that, as long as I blocked out the fact that there are now three screw-holes behind the marble patches. My husband had a look-see and said it was "acceptable."

The owner of the marble company was supposed to be here early this morning. I waited till 10:00 before calling the office to ask the girl if he'd be here by noon. "He'll see you around 4:30," she told me.

Ah, yes.... it's nearly 6:00 as I'm typing. No sign of him yet. And I seriously doubt that he's singing and dancing on a stage somewhere.

This isn't the end of the handyman saga. We need to have some work done in the smaller bathroom. The floor and the toilet both need to be replaced, one being a result of the other. It seems that the seal on the commode has cracked, which caused some water to seep underneath the linoleum floor. It isn't that bad right now, but will keep getting worse.

Which, in my book, means replace both now before they get worse. My husband and I were in Home Depot this weekend, and we picked out ceramic tile for that bathroom floor. We also looked at new toilets, which wasn't exactly easy to do. Home Depot had the commodes stored on a shelf that was about 15 feet off the floor..... very hard to see the differences between them if you're only five feet/four inches tall.

We asked one of the Home Depot workers why the toilets were up on shelves so high off the ground. She told us that when they were kept at a lower level, little kids would use them. "Use them for what?"....... "For toilets!" she told us.

This is only the beginning. I will soon have to deal with more handymen as they come and go. The old floor will need to be picked up, the old toilet will need to be removed. Then the new tile floor will be installed, then the new commode. They will have to either replace or repaint the molding around the floor, then of course the doors will have to be repainted to match the molding. One thing always leads to another.

If my handymen looked like The Village People and were being supervised by Oprah's Nate, then this bathroom job would take maybe a day and a half.

The way I see it....... I hope this all gets done by Memorial Day.

All together now: "Y..... M..... C..... A!!!!!"

Easter Sunday

Well, the weatherman turned out to be right yesterday...... we did indeed get heavy rains and winds...... it all started after midnight and went on till nearly 5:00 this morning. As a result, our nice warm temperatures dropped at least 25 degrees and it was cold this morning. Bah humbug to that! I'm glad I cut that pink rose yesterday..... it might have been drooping its pretty bloom into a rain puddle this morning and I wouldn't have been happy about that.

We went to our friends K & B this morning for their annual Easter Breakfast and Egg Hunt. There were about 25 adults, and two young children...... all of us walking around three backyards and front yards, each of us holding a wicker basket and seaching for eggs that B had hidden in the grass, underneath the bushes, in potted plants, in the rock garden, around the pond in the Oriental garden. Except for the cold and breezy weather, it was a lot of fun. I didn't even count the eggs I collected..... I just divided them up and gave half each to the two young boys, to make their baskets fuller.

I was just happy to get back into K's house where it was warm. Stupid weather..... too cold for me, and I've been freezing ever since. Oh well.... maybe it will be warm and sunny next Easter. Last year's egg hunt was also on a cold and drippy Easter morning. Since my husband and I have been going to K's for this Easter party, only the first year's Easter Sunday was a bright and warm sunny day.

The year before last, I had found a very large, home-sewn Easter bunny..... he's about 5-feet tall, wearing a top hat and a suit. His arms and legs are very long, and you can move him into just about any position. I bought him at a yard sale and I was going to put him in a chair on our front porch for Easter...... but I gave him to K for her own Easter celebration, since she really goes all out for this party. This morning, she had that big bunny sitting in a tree in her front yard. His arms were wrapped around one of the tree's branches, and his legs were dangling down in the breeze and he looked as if he was watching all of us as we searched for the eggs. I have to say that Mr. Bunny looked better in her tree than he would have on my porch.

Oh well...... maybe it will warm up tomorrow...... the rain stopped around 6:00 this morning, and the sun has been going in and out all afternoon. The heavy breeze is what's making it colder than it needs to be. As far as I'm concerned, any temperature lower than 78 is "colder than it needs to be."

One Pink Rose

About two years after we moved into this house, I planted three rose bushes out in the backyard. Two of them didn't last more than a year, and they never bloomed. The third rose bush survived the summer heat, but it never bloomed.

Every year, that one surviving rose bush would get hundreds of bright green leaves, but there wasn't a bud in sight. Until this afternoon....... not only a bud, but a real live blooming rose. I saw it from my kitchen window as I was watching a squirrel hang upside-down from the bird feeder. I thought I was seeing things....... could that really be a pink rose out there?

I went out for a closer look, and there it was... one beautiful, blooming, "Pink Dawn" rose, with its petals lifting up towards the sun. I was going to leave that rose right where it was, but we were supposed to get rainstorms and hail tonight. (Which hasn't happened.... but the night is young.)

I came back into the house to get the scissors, and I cut the rose from the bush and put it in a vase. One perfect rose.... and it took eight years to bloom. How could I leave it out there to face the "heavy rains and damaging hail" that the weatherman predicted?

That "Pink Dawn" rose bush is supposed to be a climber. When I planted the three bushes in the yard, I had visions of pale pink roses blooming all over the wood fence going along the back of the yard. This one little rose bush that has survived all these years hasn't grown enough to bloom all over the fence on a bird-house, much less the fence surrounding our backyard.

But on the bright side, it hasn't shriveled up and turned brown and died. It has hung in there, through one hot summer after another, since 1998. And on this day, I have one beautiful, perfect, pale pink rose in a crystal vase.

It was worth the wait.

Life: A Brief Candle or a Splendid Torch.......

Today's mail brought a card from Frankie's daughter up in Ohio. Lovely card, thanking us for being such good friends with her mother. She also enclosed some photographs of Frankie when she was younger..... every photo of Frankie that I see shows how full-of-life she truly was.

Along with the photos, Frankie's daughter tucked a copy of a slip of paper that she found in her mother's jewelry box. Interesting quote, and so much like Frankie. The author of the following quote is unknown, but it's from a 1907 speech given in Brighton, England ----

"My life belongs to the whole community and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it whatsoever I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no 'brief candle' to me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations."


Frankie was more like a splendid torch, definitely not a brief candle.

P.S. to those Recipes........

The eggplant rolls that I wrote about this morning were absolutely delicious.... and totally healthy, very low fat. (Which is why my husband said they were merely "okay." Bah humbug.... they were scrumptious.) The trick with them is to bake the eggplant slices till they're soft.... then spoon the spinach mixture onto just one end, then roll it up.

As for the spinach biscuits...... with the leftover spinach/cheese/artichoke mixture from the eggplant, I used those (low-fat) Pillsbury crescent rolls....... I spread some of the spinach mixture all over the triangle of dough (not too thick with the spinach).... rolled them up and baked them as usual. Delicious! Definitely a great thing to make for a party.

I've done enough cooking for one day.......... now it's time to turn on The Food Channel while I exercise. Maybe I'll find more interesting recipes that I can totally change around and make into something else.

Stuffed Eggplant Rolls

My husband thinks it's hysterical that I exercise while watching The Food Channel. Actually, watching the cooking shows on television makes me think. I need to focus on something while I'm exercising, otherwise the exercise gets totally boring. If I can't find a decent TV program to watch, then I'll watch whatever cooking show happens to be on The Food Channel. And watching cooking shows while exercising makes you not want to eat too much, because the more you eat, the more you'll need to exercise.

One of the chefs this week was making a stuffed eggplant dish. It looked very good, but he was stuffing it with four kinds of cheese.... major calories, major fat. Not something I'd want to be cooking, much less eating. However, I do like eggplant.

So I got to thinking..... what could I use to stuff the eggplant that would make it less fattening but just as delicious. Maybe it's the Greek music I listen to in the breakfast room, but spinach and feta cheese came to mind. (This recipe calls for tomato sauce, so you'll need a few cups of that. I had sauce in the fridge, leftover from meatballs & sauce I made the other day.)

When I went to the supermarket this week, I found a decent-sized eggplant... small enough to make a meal but not big enough to feed the neighborhood. You've got to be careful of those large eggplants... the bigger they are, the more seeds they have. And the seeds aren't my favorite part of that vegetable.

Anyway..... back to the eggplant. I washed the outside and cut off the top and the bottom. Then you leave the skin on, and slice it lengthwise into quarter-inch slices. I arranged those on a foil-lined cookie sheet that I sprayed with a non-stick spray. Perfect... that one eggplant fit on just the one cookie sheet.

I had a jar of marinated artichoke hearts in the fridge, so I used some of the marinade from those to brush both sides of the eggplant slices. Then I sprinkled the slices with parsley flakes. Into the oven... hot oven, 375 degrees, for about 15 - 20 minutes. Then I flipped them over, and let them bake for another five minutes or so. (The slices should be soft and browned, but not crispy, because you need to roll them up.)

For the filling, while the eggplant slices were baking: I defrosted (in the microwave) one package of frozen chopped spinach. Into that, I added about 1/2 cup of crumbled feta cheese (I buy the feta that's already seasoned with sun-dried tomatoes and herbs). Then I chopped up about half a cup of the marinated artichoke hearts and added those into the spinach/cheese mixture. Then I added a beaten egg, just to hold that all together. Perfect.

When the eggplant slices were done, I let them cool just enough so I could handle them. I used a tablespoon of the spinach mixture for each of the eggplant slices--- a spoonful at one end of each slice, then you roll it up. Put the rolls into a baking pan--- put a little bit of tomato sauce in the bottom of the pan so the eggplant rolls are sitting on top of the sauce. When all the eggplant rolls are in the pan, just add a little more sauce on the top of each roll..... not too much... you don't want them swimming. (It would be helpful to use a baking pan just big enough to hold the rolls tightly, so they don't have a chance to un-roll while cooking.) You bake these for 25 minutes, at 350 degrees. Which I didn't do yet...... I'll bake them tonight for dinner. I'm sure they'll be delicious. How can you go wrong when you mix spinach & feta while Greek music is playing?

I had some of the spinach/cheese/artichoke mixture left over. -- You don't want to put too much into the rolls because you won't be able to roll them up. With the leftover mixture, I plan to use another recipe from one of the cooking shows. -- You take a can of Pillsbury crescent rolls (the low-fat ones, of course).... unwrap each of the triangles, spoon a little of the spinach mixture on the dough, then roll it up like you usually would, to form the crescent roll. That should be delicious also...... maybe I'll do those tomorrow for lunch.

That crescent roll dough can be used for anything, according to the woman on that cooking show. Fruit jam, cheese, chicken or tuna salad, just about anything that won't run all over the pan as the rolls are baking, I guess. Those crescent rolls would be great for one of our parties, stuffed with spinach and cheese. I'll have to try that for our next Charades party.

Anyway..... dinner is all set to go into the oven later. Today is a glorious day..... lots of sun and blue sky...... flowers blooming everywhere and the air is so warm that you can smell the sweetness of the blooms. Gorgeous day.

Midnight Birdsong

Late last night, nearly midnight, I heard a bird singing...... I think it was a mockingbird, judging from the variety of notes and sounds he was making up there in the trees. The bird's songs were so beautiful that I went outside and stood on the front walkway, trying to determine where the bird was. Best I could hear, the bird was in one of the trees up near the corner of the street. I was wearing pajamas and slippers, so I didn't walk further than my own sidewalk.

Sure was pretty...... and I'm just about positive it was a mockingbird. First time I've ever heard a bird singing that late at night. Do birds get insomnia? Was the bird blind, and didn't realize that he was singing by moonlight rather than sunlight? Or was the bird filled with so much song that it just had lots of notes left over after sunset?

Whatever the bird's reason, it was truly a wonderful symphony. Made even more beautiful with last night's full moon.

That last line made me remember the words on a bookmark that I used for years and years and may still have in my desk. The bookmark had a bluebird on it, and the words: "Birds do not sing because they have a reason. They sing because they have a song."

We should all have such beautiful songs.

Wednesday Evening....

Absolutely gorgeous blue-sky, warm, clear, breezy day today. The few trees that lost their leaves in the December/January cold snaps are budding all over, the mockingbirds are singing their hearts out, and the sun is warming up as if summer is half a heart-beat away.

While I was out doing errands today, I had Manilow music on the CD player and I opened up the back window a little bit and let Barry's music float (blast!) into the sky. It was the type of day that just makes you want to "share the Manilow" with the rest of the world.

Here in Clear Lake, all was calm and peaceful, bright and sunny. Over in Texas City, everything was dark and stormy, frightening and firey. One of the biggest energy plants had a huge explosion early this afternoon, around 1:30. I'm surprised we didn't hear the blast here, being that the explosion was heard out in Galveston.

I heard about the explosion when I turned on the TV at 4:00 to see what was on Oprah, but all programming was pre-empted by the news media covering the blast at the power plant. They haven't given a definite number yet of people killed, and some workers are still unaccounted for. Victims are being taken by helicopter to the larger, better-equipped downtown Houston hospitals. The Galveston and Clear Lake hospitals can't handle the worst of the injuries, so I guess those hospitals don't have "burn units." Being that they're in such close proximity to the Texas City power plants, you would think they would be equipped.

They showed the helicopters landing at the hospitals...... blue sky, bright sun, swaying palm trees.... too beautiful a day for such horror. Not that it would be less horrible if the day had been rainy and cloudy.

And I didn't realize that Texas City's schools are so close to the power plants. What on earth were they thinking? Why couldn't the power plants be off in a little town all by themselves? When the blast happened, Texas City parents went to the schools to check on their children. The schools were under a "lock-down" until school officials made sure it was safe to open the doors, so the parents couldn't get into the schools. One distraught father broke a window just trying to get into the elementary school to make sure his son was okay. What a nightmare-day this has been for Texas City.

Today's Chronicle had more stories about the Minnesota boy who shot and killed his grandfather and then took the guns to school to continue the shooting. That boy's father committed suicide, his mother was in jail, his grandfather had a young girlfriend, and the boy studied Hitler the way most boys his age study baseball statistics. Hello??? Why wasn't anyone paying attention to that poor child?!

You just never know what will happen, from one day to the next. As my friend Frankie always told me, "No one is guaranteed tomorrow."

Not even on a beautiful, clear, sunshine-filled, bird-singing day such as today.

Tuesday News

I don't watch the news on TV because you get bombarded with all sorts of sad stories and there's no escaping the words when they're being broadcast into the airwaves. And I don't want those airwaves bouncing around my home. It makes for bad karma, in my opinion. I do, however, read The Houston Chronicle every day, from the first page to the last, with just a skim over the first pages of the sports and business sections.

The main section of today's Chronicle was very sad. Two stories that just tear at your heart and make you sit there and shake your head. And you can't help but read them, from the first word to the last.

The first tragedy in today's paper was a shooting at a high school in Minnesota. One boy with a gun...... he killed his grandparents, then went to school and continued shooting. Students, a teacher, a security guard. By the time he was done, and before he ultimately killed himself, ten people were dead and fourteen were injured.

It saddens me to think that parents can't send their kids to school and not know if they're safe. If they can't be safe at home or at school, then where else is left? We already know that safety isn't guaranteed on the streets, no matter where you live.

I'm anxious to see what tomorrow's Chronicle will say about this boy who did all that shooting. Was he a quiet child? A loner? A trouble-maker? An "A" student or one just getting by? No matter how he will be described, one thing is for sure...... he needed help and no one noticed. How very sad.

The other story is about the Florida woman who has been in a coma-like state for over 15 years. Her husband has been trying for the past seven years or so to have her disconnected from the machines/feeding tubes keeping her alive. (Alive? Does that define alive?) The husband says that his wife wouldn't have wanted that kind of existance. The wife's family has taken this matter to the courts. They don't want anything disconnected. They want to keep her just as she is, in a vegetative state (as the doctors call it). They think she could eventually come out of it.

I can understand both sides of this story. The husband wants to do what he thinks his wife would've wanted, and he needs to get on with the rest of his life. The wife's family wants to keep their daughter/sister hooked up and on life-support so they can keep her in the family rather than buy a headstone for her grave.

The bottom line in all of this: who has final say in this kind of situation? That is the only issue that should be brought before the courts. According to established law, that husband has the right and responsiblity to make the decisions for his wife. Case closed, in my opinion. The courts shouldn't have allowed the family to drag this case through the legal system for the last seven years. And as far as all the politicians getting involved with this case, they're only doing so for the publicity. Why aren't they so concerned about the general state of health insurance (or lack of it) for the rest of the country?

Kids having access to guns...... unreasonable people having access to the court system. There's never a happy ending in either circumstance.

C's First Dance

I went to see our young friend C this afternoon... she wanted me to see the dress she bought for the 8th grade dance next month. Her first grown-up dressy dress, and she was all excited. She had told me over the phone that she picked out a "Miss Larrie dress." I love that child, I swear.

C told me that her dress was "simple, elegant and fun, black with sparkles." She tried to describe it to me, but she said it was better for me to just see it. When I got to her house this afternoon, she was practically jumping out of her shoes, she was so excited.

The dress is a soft black, with ruffles from the waist down, and each of the ruffled layers has tiny rhinestones in the fabric. The ruffles are a different fabric than the top of the dress--- sort of like a sheer, soft netting, with the soft top fabric under the ruffles. The dress is strapless, which C isn't comfortable with, so her mom is bringing the dress to a seamstress to have thin straps added to it.

All C has to do now is get some pretty shoes to go with the dress. She's thinking sandals, something sparkling and cute. I told her not to get too high a heel, so she can dance well in the shoes. And I suggested she practice walking around the house with them before the night she has to wear them to the dance. She asked if my husband and I could go to her house the night of the dance, so we can see how she looks all dressed up, and maybe take some pictures of her before she leaves. We shall plan to do just that.

I gave C a pair of black pearl earrings when I saw her today. Small ones, just a nice size for her. They were my earrings and I wore them a lot till I got larger ones. C loves jewelry, and she loves the sentimentality of having something that belonged to people she loves. She told me she would wear the earrings with her new dress. Before she saw the earrings, she told me that she was going to look for some sparkling rhinestone earrings, to go with the tiny rhinestones on her dress. I told her to look for some dangling rhinestone earrings before committing herself to the black pearls. The dress is fun, so her earrings should be fun as well.

That little girl is just growing up before our eyes. I can still picture her as she was in the second grade, when I met her. Jeez.... that seems like yesterday. She is a sweet, sweet girl, and she's growing into a sweet and mature young lady. Time sure does fly.

Saturday Stuff

A fairly nice day today...... mixture of sun and clouds, and even a touch of thunder off in the distance to make sure we were all paying attention. When I went out to walk Gracie this afternoon, there was a huge black cloud hanging over part of the subdivision, so I cut the walk short. It really looked as if the sky would open up with pouring rain, but it just never did.

I took the time to send an eMail to the downtown Houston theatre where "The King and I" is playing. I told The Powers That Be there how much we enjoyed the play the other night. And, of course, I mentioned the gentleman on stage with the 10-minute advertisement, and the plea for money at the end which brought an abrupt halt to the applause for the wonderful cast. I actually got a return eMail from one of the theatre managers. He thanked me for the praise of the performance, and said he understood my concerns about the other two issues. I'm sure the theatre will do whatever it wishes to do, but I was happy just to know that my two-cents-worth of opinion was actually read.

I got a note from my cousin L up in NY.... she sent me a photo of her mom (my Aunt Edie who passed away a couple of weeks ago). The picture must have been taken either in the late 1950s or early 1960s. My aunt was posed in front of the Oriental cabinet that was in her living room, and there's a portrait of a beautiful Chinese woman hanging on the wall behind the cabinet. Both are beautiful..... my aunt and the portrait. In this photo, my aunt even had her hair arranged in a Geisha-girl style. She was very stylish. All of my father's sisters had their own sense of style, and they're all beautiful. Each one has aged gracefully, beautifully.

A friend up in NY sent me a newspaper article (obituary, actually) on a man we both knew when we worked at the library. I always called this nice gentleman "Mr. T." He came into the library every day to check the stock prices in the Standard & Poor's listings. Even after he bought a computer, he still came into the library everyday to check stock listings and say hello to the staff.

Mr. T passed away on the 3rd of March.... he was 90 years old. He was fortunate to have a son who moved into his home with him and took care of him till he died. Mr. T lived in that house for more than sixty years. I know he loved that old house..... he used to talk about neighbors of his who moved into smaller houses or condos after their children moved out or got married. Mr. T. didn't want to do that..... he used to tell me that "every nook and cranny of our home has a memory in it..... how could I possibly leave there?"

As I said, he was a nice old man. Very astute.... he knew when something was bothering you, or when you weren't feeling well. He would say "I don't want to pry, but whatever is worrying you will surely get better... just give it some time." And he'd pat your hand once or twice and give you a smile or tip his hat. He always wore a baseball-type cap. Come to think of it, I don't think I ever saw him without a cap. Even in this photo with the obituary, he's wearing a cap.

Rest in peace, Mr. T. Same for my Aunt Edie. Same for our friend Frankie. Jeez... it has surely been a month for new angels.

"The King and I"

We just got back a little while ago from downtown Houston.... we were at The Hobby Center Theatre, to see a performance of The King and I. Wonderful, beautiful play, starring Stefanie Powers in the role of Anna.

I don't remember the name of the actor who portrayed the King, but after seeing Yul Brenner as the King of Siam, how could anyone else possibly be King? My husband saw Yul Brenner on the stage, I saw the movie more than a few times. Each time, I watched it with my Aunt Dolly. She and I would stay up way past midnight (in the 1960s) watching what she called "the old movies, when Hollywood really made movies." I learned all the names of the stars, and I learned to appreciate the fashions and jewelry of the 1930s and 1940s.

Back to Siam.......... the sets were beautifully done tonight, very elaborate, very King-ly. The costumes were extravagant, colorful, breath-taking. All the children in the play were so cute. It truly was a magical performance.

However....... two complaints. First, at 8:00 when they dimmed the lights and we all expected the play to begin, a man in an ill-fitting gray suit walked onto the stage with a microphone. He was a representative of The Hobby Center Theatre, and he spent nearly 15 minutes telling everyone about upcoming performances. The longer he spoke, the more feet-shuffling and whispers you could hear.

When this man finally said "I'll just be a minute or two more..." --- you could hear some people applauding (my husband included). Then this gray-suited-wonder began to advertise a book that was for sale in the lobby for ten dollars. When he gave the price, a man's voice (not my husband) called out "I'll give you just five dollars for that book." Not to be out-done, Mr. Gray Suit asked the man his name and told him he could have the book for five dollars. The man called out his name, then said something else that I didn't hear, and then Mr. Gray Suit told the man he could have the book for free. "But it's only free for you........ the rest of y'all will have to pay. Ten dollars, not five."

When that little drama ended, the lights really dimmed and the play began, after a short announcement reminding everyone that the play takes place in Siam, in the 1860s, and they didn't have cell phones then, so "would everyone take a moment to shut off phones, beepers, and anything else that makes noise."

As I said...... watching "The King and I" was a beautiful, magical experience. At the end of the play, the audience stood and applauded all the performers. As Stefanie Powers took her lastbows, she suddenly broke character (while still on stage!) and, discarding the British accent of Anna, she spoke as Stefanie, asking the audience to contribute "any loose change" as they left the theatre for the AIDS Awareness Foundation. She went on and on for nearly 6 minutes, as we all just stood there with hands that wanted to applaud the performers who were slowing fading from Siamese royalty to plain old actors and actresses.

Excuse me.... I thought we had been transported by the magic of the stage... we were supposed to be in Siam, in the 1860s--- no cell phones, no beepers, and no AIDS.

Now I know that contributing to an AIDS foundation is a good thing to do...... but do we have to be reminded of reality just when we're all glowing and enjoying musical theatre?

We left the theatre not talking about the beautiful play, but wondering why Stefanie Powers broke character while on that stage, not even allowing us time to finish our applause for her fantastic performance.

Well.... it still was a beautiful, wonderful play, and I'm glad we went. In my opinion, though, Yul Brenner will forever be the King of Siam.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

Today is my husband's mom's birthday. I think she really enjoyed having her birthday on St. Patty's Day. I've lost track of the numbers..... this would've been her 83rd, I think. We all miss her.

I had mentioned the idea of having a St. Patty's Day get-together..... but we never got around to planning anything. My husband has been busy this week, and tonight we're going downtown to see "The King and I" at one of the Houston theatres. I have a pretty green outfit to wear, but not today..... too cold....... the temperature dropped from 85 to 60.

Still colder than usual here.... totally stupid weather, but at least the sun is out today. The cats drive me crazy in this weather. They don't like to be cold, so they don't stay out on the screen-porch for too long, which gives them "cabin fever."

I kept Rusty in the house the night before last and I swear that cat woke me up every couple of hours. When he's in the house, he thinks his food dish should always be filled up to the brim. And I can't do that, because he'd sit there and keep eating till every morsel was gone. Rusty is already over-weight so I have to be careful of how much food he gets. I'm like the catfood-cop around here.

When I lived in NY, I had a female cat. She never woke me up during the night... never over-ate... and she never ever had "accidents" on the floors or carpeting. Our three cats (all male) always wake me up in the middle of the night. Unless, of course, it's nice and warm and I let them sleep on the screen-porch..... which they will be doing soon. It's the only way for me to sleep through the night.

AngelBoy woke me up the night before last at 4:00........ because he had used the litter box in our bathroom. Of course, I was happy that he used the box (being that I didn't put him in the laundry room that night to sleep). AngelBoy is a strange little cat. He won't set a paw into a litter box that's been soiled by one of the other cats, and he makes sure to let me know when he has used a box, because he can't stand it not being cleaned out quickly. And believe me..... the litter boxes get cleaned out promptly around here. No one walking in our front door would even guess that we have three cats in this house.

Three cats. Three male cats whose main mission in life is to make sure that I don't get a full night's sleep. Just wait. Wait till it warms up again. Rusty will be sleeping out on the deck... AngelBoy and ShadowBaby will be sleeping on the screen-porch. And I will have my head under the pillow for a really good night's sleep.

........ I received a note from my friend H in Florida. She and her husband moved there from NY before I moved here to Texas. H took her time and spent over a year looking for the perfect house in Florida. She found it........ and loved it.... and now she and her husband have moved into an "assisted living" senior community. They sold their beautiful, perfect house. I was just stunned when I read that. H wrote that their apartment now is just big enough for the two of them, and if they get to the point where they need "assisted living," the facility is equipped for it.

She sounds perfectly happy..... she said that she took just as much furniture as would fit into their smaller home. "It looks just like our house, only smaller," she wrote. I plan on calling her this week, to say hello and wish her well in her new home. I was just so surprised that they sold their house.

I have another friend up in NY who just recently sold her home there and moved to a senior community in Pennsylvania. She was hesitant about moving and had lots of mixed feelings before she put her much-loved home on the market. Her house sold, her family helped her pack, and now she's in PA unpacking the boxes in a much smaller home.

Is that what life comes down to? Going into an "assisted living" community when you get older? H and her husband must be around 75 or so now..... maybe a bit older. H was always so vibrant... running here and there, keeping busy, doing everything herself and doing it well and quickly. I just can't picture her needing assistance for anything.

I couldn't imagine myself in an assisted living apartment. I couldn't bear not to be able to do things on my own. And I couldn't bear the thought of not living right here in our home. Hopefully, I'll never have to.

From my lips to God's ears, as my dear friend Blance used to say.

Rhinestones and Piano Lessons

Piano.......... I keep struggling with these new notes....... not to mention sharps and flats........ so many keys, not enough time. Never enough hours in the day. Piano lesson tomorrow... I don't feel as if I'm ready for the lesson. But I'll go...... and suggest to K that we start all over at the beginning of the book, or close to it. She will think I've lost my mind.

It amazes me how I can play some songs from beginning to end without a single mistake and then I can't get past the first few measures in another (simpler!) song without either hitting the wrong key or not knowing which key to hit. Whose idea was it to take piano lessons in the first place? (Mine.) Oh.

Rhinestones....... I've been looking on eBay for rhinestone brooches. I could kick myself for selling some of my vintage rhinestone brooches on eBay a few years ago. I had stopped wearing the larger ones and they sold for nice prices, but now I wish I had them. The newer brooches at the jewelry shows are very pretty, but most of the rhinestones are just glued in. And those that are glued usually come un-glued.

The vintage rhinestone brooches have hand-sent stones, and the best of the best are the Eisenbergs. Without a doubt, their designs are always spectacular... the prettiest of all the "vintage" designers. And the bidding on eBay has no limit. Amazing to see the final prices of some of those pieces. I have a list of ones I'd like to bid on...... I keep watching the auctions..... then I usually don't bid because the prices go too high.

I found two Eisenberg brooches at J's shop last week, and I knew the dealer who was selling them, so she gave me an excellent discount if I bought both of them, which I did. So now I have a red Eisenberg and a clear Eisenberg. I've got my eye on a pink, a blue, a green, and an orange.
An Eisenberg brooch in every color.... as long as the bids don't get too crazy. I may re-think that orange one..... it would be nice to wear for our Halloween party, but how many other times during the year would I wear orange?

----- After all of our sunny and warm days, today has been cloudy and cold. Time to get the sweaters out again. I can't stand this hot-one-day, cold-the-next-day weather. Summer can't be more than a heart-beat away.......... I'm so ready for it.

Cousins

Gorgeous day again today.... hopefully, summer has arrived and will stay here...... at least till November, if we're lucky.

I spoke to my cousin L yesterday..... it had been a good many years since we've been in touch. L is the daughter of my Aunt Edie, who passed away on March 2nd. The same day that my Uncle Mino passed away six years ago.... which has my dad thinking that March is a bad-luck month for the family. My Uncle Larry passed away in March (before I was born), as did my grandfather (in the early 1970s). I have a feeling that Daddy won't ever be going too far away from home during the month of March from now on.

Anyway....... back to my cousin L. I had sent her a note when I heard that her mother passed away, along with a check in lieu of flowers. I've never understood the custom of sending flowers to people who have passed away and can no longer see them. I thought that L could use the money instead, to purchase a headstone for her mother, or to use towards the funeral expenses.

In my note to L, I mentioned that my love of Oriental art began with a visit to her mother's house when I was around 6 or 7 years old. Aunt Edie's home (in the 1950s) was filled with beautiful Oriental statues, screens, handpainted tables, and other bric-a-brac that I'd never seen before. In the 1950s, I don't think anyone else in our family had such exotic tastes in home decor.

I told L that I've found Oriental items at estate and yard sales here in Texas, as well as in antique shops. Every time I've placed these "exotic" things in our home, I've thought of Aunt Edie and her wonderful collection. She had the most beautiful statues of Geisha girls that I just loved when I was a kid. L told me that my note to her brought tears to her eyes, which was truly not my intention. But I would guess that anything can bring tears to the eyes of someone who has just lost a parent.

My cousin L and I had a nice chat on the phone. All the years we had lost touch with one another just melted away. She reminded me of something that I'd long forgotten. When I was a baby and learning how to walk, I was brought to my Aunt Edie's home for a visit. Needless to say, I was much too young at that visit to appreciate her collection of Oriental furnishings. And, being that I was learning how to hold myself upright and walk, I was grabbing onto anything and everything.

One of the things I grabbed onto was my Aunt Edie's coffee table. Well, I guess I was so happy to be standing at the coffee table that I clamped my new little baby-teeth down onto the edge of Aunt Edie's hand-painted Oriental coffee table. My cousin L said my teethmarks are still in the table to this day, and Aunt Edie tried everything from doilies to decoupauge to cover those marks over the years.

My Aunt Edie always believed that "little children should be seen and not heard." I can hear her saying that now because I know she must've said that a zillion times when all of us were growing up. It's possible that even as a baby, I knew what she meant... and maybe that's why I clamped my little teeth down onto the edge of her coffee table-- so I wouldn't be able to utter a sound!

I can understand why my dad has been so sad since March 2nd. As each family member passes away, the family gets a little smaller. And even though there are little babies being born here and there to keep the family growing, no one can really replace those that leave us. Who can replace my grandmother, after all? Who could possibly replace my grandfather? Uncle Mino? He was one-of-a-kind. And Aunt Edie? She was the keeper of the Geisha-girl statues.

My grandmother used to hold up her hands and say to us: "See these ten fingers? I had ten children. And just like each of my ten fingers, my ten children are all different. Each of them are special, each of them learn from the next how to get along with the others on the hand."

I can still see my grandmother, standing in the kitchen by the chimney and wiggling her fingers.

Sunday Morning... Nice and sunny

Another glorious day...... lots of sun, a nice breeze, temperatures should be up in the 80s. What a great place to live! (Note to self: remember that line when it rains.)

I can always tell when summer has begun here-- my husband and I start to do the "thermostat dance." He turns the air conditioning down (colder) and I tip-toe to the thermostat and turn it up (warmer). Depending on the shoes I'm wearing, sometimes he hears me in the hallway on my way to the thermostat (which is right outside his computer room) and sometimes I can get there and tweak the thermostat quickly and get away before he turns around. Yesterday, he told me I tweaked it up to at least 700 degrees. (Note to self: remember to take off sandals before walking towards the thermostat.... the slip-slap of summer sandals can wake the dead.)

Rusty (oldest cat) continues to sleep out on the deck in the backyard. He alternates his choice of bedding between the rattan sofa and the lawn chair on the deck, and the chaise lounge on the lawn. Rusty doesn't mind being alone out there.... he's always been sort of a loner, and I think he was disappointed in us when we added two other cats and a dog to his household.

AngelBoy (middle cat... my fluffy blue-eyed prissy cat) slept on the screen-porch last night. He started the night on his pillow in the laundry room but before I got myself ready for bed, he was banging his paw on the door and he wanted out of there. As soon as I let him out of the laundry room, he jumped through the open breakfast room window and let himself into the screen-porch. It was nice and warm outside last night, so I put his food and water dish out there and shut the window. AngelBoy certainly has his choice of sleeping spots on the porch, since all the wicker furniture is out there. There are also two cardboard boxes, which I can't take away because AngelBoy likes to jump into them and "hide". Silly cat, he thinks I can't see him when he gets into those boxes. Oh well... the cardboard boxes have become part of the decor.

ShadowBaby (youngest cat) slept in his usual spot last night... my side of the bed. Then at 5:30 this morning, he curled up on my pillow and started playing with my hair and trying to wake me up. (His signal to me that he wants to go out on the screen-porch and start his day.) So that's where I put him, along with fresh food & water for him & AngelBoy, and I went back to sleep. Didn't wake up till 8:30.

Don't know why I got started typing all of this about the cats. Sometimes I sit at this lap-top and just type out whatever I'm thinking. Right now, AngelBoy is sleeping not too far away from where I'm sitting. He's upside-down, fluffy paws curled up on his chest, and every minute or so, he opens his kitty-blue eyes to make sure I'm here.

I think one can judge the "atmosphere" of a home by the mannerisms of the pets who live there. In one of the cat books I read recently ("The Nine Emotional Lives of Cats") the author (Jeffrey M. Masson) wrote that a cat who is comfortable enough to sleep upside-down and expose the most vulnerable part of its body is a cat who truly feels safe.

When I was growing up, I made a promise to myself that if I had children, I would make sure they always felt safe and felt loved. Well, I never had children, but I've always had cats and dogs, which became my "children." I've made sure my four-legged kids always feel safe, and I do believe they know that I love them.

All is perfect in this little corner of the world on this beautiful sunny morning.

Rusty 1 - Mouse 0

The nights have been warm, and I've let Rusty (our oldest cat) sleep out on the backyard deck. There is a comfy rattan sofa out there, as well as a lawn chair, so he has his choice of cozy cushions to dream on.

Last night, when I went out to the deck to put a few morsels of food in his dish (to hold his lion-sized appetite at bay till morning), I heard some noise in the bird-feeder. Birds don't eat after dark, so I knew the mouse was back. I don't know if it's the same mouse who keeps coming back to our bird-feeders at night, or maybe the first mouse has told his friends about the left-over birdseed. And no matter how little birdseed I put in the feeder every morning, the mouse always seems to come by for a night-time snack on whatever is left in there. I guess the birds don't believe in the "clean plate" rule.

I stood there on the deck and listened to the mouse. Too dark to see him, and I wasn't going to stroll out into the yard to see more closely (heaven knows what could be lurking in the dark grass... we have all sorts of bugs/ants/worms that thrive in this state).

I looked at Rusty. He was alert and listening, with his pudgy little whiskered face staring out into the dark yard. The last thing I said to Rusty last night was "There's a mouse out in the bird-feeder, Rusty. You are a cat. Don't you think you ought to do something?" Rusty didn't look at me... he never took his golden-eyed gaze away from the yard. Off to bed I went.

This morning, when I went into the backyard to feed Rusty and change the water in the bird-bath, what did I see? A mouse, very dead, near the door to the backyard screen-porch. And there was Rusty, sitting smugly on the cushions of the rattan sofa on the deck. If he could speak, he would've said "So there. You asked. I delivered."

I took the broom and the dustpan and swept the rigid mouse up quickly. AngelBoy (my fluffy, prissy middle cat) was already sniffing at the mouse and I didn't want him to pick it up. He spotted the mouse before I did, as soon as I let him out of the porch. Not that I thought he really would touch the mouse..... I do believe he's too prissy for that, but you never know. He is a cat, after all. (To that, AngelBoy would say "I am not merely a cat, I am King.")

As I swept up the mouse, I saw my husband through the window of the kitchen. I held up the dust-pan for him to see. I smiled at him through the glass. He made a face and I knew what he was thinking (How were you able to sweep that up?)

And that's exactly the question he asked me when I came back into the house. He reminded me that I can barely keep my composure when I see a spider, and there I was with a dead mouse in the dust-pan and a smile on my face.

Well, the mouse was dead. As in not moving. And if I didn't sweep it up as quickly as I did, AngelBoy might have picked it up and ran out into the yard with it. And AngelBoy likes to lick my hand when he wants to prove to me that he can be a loving cat as well as an aloof cat. So the thought of AngelBoy's tiny mouse-furry tongue possibly touching my hand was all the incentive I needed to get that dead mouse out of the yard.

Besides, as I swept up the mouse, I sang to myself: "M - I - C........ K - E - Y....." -- just that put everything into a different perspective.

A Barry Friday Morning

Well, can the day get any better? Gorgeous, warm sunny day outside, and Barry Manilow on The Ellen DeGeneres Show this morning.

Actually, the Ellen Show today was a repeat, but I missed the first airing of the show because they scheduled it for the day when Georgie W was sworn into office for his second presidential term. Now really.... for the networks to put Georgie W on in place of Manilow..... what were they thinking?

I telephoned our friend J to tell him that Barry was on TV........ so he watched it also. I couldn't call A because she's in Florida this week....... maybe she happened to have the TV on. Hard to believe that we saw Manilow in Houston back in November. Now he'll be in Las Vegas for the next couple of years. His performances are selling out as quickly as they're scheduled. If he stays in Vegas, then I guess the only way to see Barry is to fly out to Vegas. I read that the publishing company who printed his book (Sweet Life) has again released the hardcover edition. I have taken my own copy of Manilow's book to every Houston concert except the first one. And that's the one where I should have had that book---- we had front row seats and Barry shook my hand. It would've been the perfect opportunity for me to ask him to sign the book. Note to self: Take the book to Vegas, if we happen to go there.

My husband and Gracie (our dog) are at Galveston Beach right now. My husband took a book and some iced tea, I wrapped up dog biscuits and a plastic bowl of water for Gracie and off they went. I used to like going to the beach in Galveston, but for the past few years, the seaweed on the beach has increased to the point of disgust. Plus, they're building so many ocean-front homes out there that the stretches of secluded beaches are quickly diminishing. I'd rather sit in the sun in my own backyard. No sand... no seaweed... and a clean bathroom.

It would be perfect if we had a pool in the backyard, but we're still talking about that. As much as I'd like to have an in-ground pool put in, I'm still not sure that I want to deal with the construction and the upkeep. Both of which are necessary if you want the pool, of course. We even have the blueprints for one. Looks great on paper. But the blueprints will not cool us off when the temperatures get over 100 degrees.

I continue to get eMails from Frankie's friend R, who lives in Germany. He has eMailed me some wonderful photos of Frankie in her younger days. Just looking at these pictures, I can tell that Frankie was as fun and as fun-loving back then as she was during the past 10 years when I knew her. Strange to see Frankie in long dark hair and eye make-up! Guess I was just used to her short gray hair and her collection of hats. As Frankie taught me, it's not what's on the outside that's important. ("That's all so superfluous!" she would say.) It is indeed what's on the inside that matters the most. And Frankie had the sweetest inside.

Thursday... Sunshine

Absolutely gorgeous day...... not a raindrop in sight. Yee-haaaw! We're back to Texas weather!

My husband and I drove to Pearland this afternoon, to try an Italian restaurant recommended to us by our friend J. It's called Santa Barbara -- do they think they're in California?

My husband ordered chicken stuffed with spinach and feta (do they think they're in Greece?). It was served with noodles (boxed) with pesto sauce. Very good, a huge piece of meat... my husband ate just a third of it and took the rest home for dinner.

I ordered seafood risotto-- very creamy, filled with crabmeat and topped with grilled shrimp. (Kroger-type shrimp, not fresh Galveston Bay shrimp.) I also have a to-go box in the fridge, ready for dinner tonight or lunch tomorrow. The salad was fine, but the dressings were standard out-of-the-bottle flavors. The bread was Wonder Bread, shaped like an Italian loaf. But it was warm, so I guess that's something.

We also shared a slice of their homemade carrot cake, which was excellent. It was huge.... we didn't even eat half of it..... brought the rest home. We usually don't order dessert at lunch-time, but we drove all that way, so I figured we might as well see what their desserts were like. (The dessert was the best part of the whole meal, just because it was entirely homemade.)

Bottom line..... it was a nice place to go, if you want to drive over half an hour for an okay meal and a great dessert. In no way does it surpass our favorite Babbo Bruno. Stefano's menu just can't be topped. All of his pasta and breads are homemade, the ingredients in his kitchen are fresh and his seafood hasn't ever seen the inside of a freezer.

Going to Babbo Bruno's is like going to your best friend's home for dinner...... they welcome you with a hug when you walk into the door and they fuss over you so you really feel like you're "out." If you want a lunch or dinner that gets you in and out in 33 minutes, then don't go to Babbo Bruno. Go someplace else for an "okay" meal because that's what you're probably used to settling on. Babbo Bruno's is the place to go for fine dining, not quick eating.

This is sounding like the food page of The Houston Chronicle.

I got a call today from one of Frankie's writer-friends. She wanted to remind me that tonight is the get-together to "honor Frankie's life" at the little pub in Bacliff. I thanked her, but told her we wouldn't be there. I know that Frankie went there all the time, but she liked that place because it was convenient for a quick martini and a fast order of fish and chips. The rest of the menu wasn't all that great, according to Frankie, and the place filled up with smoke quickly because of all the smokers who kept cigarettes lit during dinner.

Somehow, going to a smoke-filled restaurant to honor Frankie's life, which ended because of her smoking, just doesn't make sense to me. Does it? I can honor Frankie every day by taking notice of the sky, the trees, the flowers, the birds, and by loving my cats unconditionally. All of which I do. And Frankie taught me how to find the bird nests in the trees, so I don't ever forget to do that.

I'd like to take all the people I know who smoke and shake them by the shoulders and tell them that their last days on this planet will most likely be spent trying to inhale fresh air into their blackened and collapsed lungs.

On that somber note, I bid you all a good day.

Happy Birthday -- the 14th for C

We celebrated our young friend C's birthday today. Yesterday was her actual birthday, but my husband and I don't like to intrude on her family's plans for her, so we had our special day with her today. C is 14 now...... hard to believe that I've known her since she was in the second grade.
In fact, the way I met C was through the Reading Partners program at our local school, which was started up by our dear friend Frankie.

Frankie, like me, loved books and loved to read. She thought it would be such a great idea for "senior" adults to tutor young children in reading. I didn't qualify in the "senior citizen" category because I wasn't old enough, but the school let me join the program anyway. C was one of my students and we just 'clicked' right from the beginning. We've been friends ever since.

And today was C's day. It was warm and sunny and a beautiful day-- much nicer than all the rain and wind of yesterday. Being that she's getting older, and she's very social and outgoing, we gave C the option of either going out for lunch or dinner, according to what her schedule was (being that this week is Spring Break here); and we also told C that she could invite one of her friends to have lunch with us if she'd like to.

C picked lunch-time.... and she invited her girl friend L to join us. So off the four of us went... to Babbo Bruno. Our favorite place, and C's favorite restaurant as well. We took her there last year when we celebrated her 13th birthday. And we've brought her there from time to time during the year.

We were at Babbo Bruno's last week, and my husband asked the owner if he could order lobsters for C's birthday and surprise us with a special dish. And so he did. Stefano himself brought out two large platters and put them in the middle of our table. They will filled with lobsters, shrimp, mussels, and homemade pasta.... all smothered in a light tomato/garlic sauce. Totally delicious, and C felt very special to be having lobster for lunch. Her friend L hadn't ever tasted lobster before, but my husband showed her how to get the meat out of the shells and she loved it also.

For dessert, we were all surprised. Stefano had fixed up a special dessert platter... four different desserts (flourless chocolate cake, Italian cheesecake with orange sauce, panecotta with raspberry sauce, biscotti... plus fresh strawberries and ice cream). There was a candle in the chocolate cake, and Stefano and his family sang Happy Birthday (in Italian) to 14-yr-old C. It was a magical lunch for all of us.

C was thrilled with her gifts...... a pretty leopard purse that I filled up with silver heart-shaped earrings, a silver bracelet with blue dolphins, an ankle bracelet with blue beads, a silver necklace with a blue dolphin, lip glosses and a pink suede mirror, and a pair of movie-star sunglasses that C called "Miss Larrie" glasses. (I knew she'd love those because she's always loved mine!) C has always loved dolphins too.... and my husband made her a special one-of-a-kind dolphin birthday card on his computer, which she thought was "So cool!"

I wrapped up a party-favor bag for her friend L...... a small yellow silk purse which I filled with girl-y goodies-- lip gloss, emory boards, a pink suede mirror like the one I gave C, and a little gold shoe filled with chocolate.

Fourteen. C is getting to be a young lady now. She's a girl-y girl...... she loves pretty things, and shoes, and jewelry...... and she loves cats, and dogs, as well as dolphins. She has my sense of style and my husband's sense of humor. C's parents have told us that no other couple that they know is as close to C as we are. And truly, my husband and I couldn't love C any more if she were our own daughter. She's very special to us. And to think that if it hadn't been for Frankie and her idea of that Reading Partners program, we never would've had this wonderful child in our lives.

There are no coincidences. Everything happens for a reason. That's what Frankie always used to tell me. And I firmly believe she was right.

Tuesday.... Rainstorms

Will our sun and warm weather never get here? We had such heavy rains and winds today that the rain was actually blown sideways into the screen-porch. Five minutes after the rain quit, the sun did come out, but it was just a tease. Didn't last long, and didn't much matter anyway because everything was so thoroughly soaked. Totally stupid weather.

I made anise cookies tonight. I have a recipe for Greek cookies from my friend F up in NY, and I just used her recipe and added anise for the flavoring. I'm not crazy about anise, but my husband likes that flavoring. One of our neighbors gave us some homemade anise cookies last month and my husband thought they were delicious. I took one bite of B's cookies and left the rest for my husband. (Not my favorite cookies, so I didn't want to 'waste' calories on them.)

The cookies I made tonight could've used a little more anise, but I still think they came out pretty good. My husband said they weren't as sweet as B's recipe. Well...... they're not supposed to be a sweet cookie, they're supposed to be an anise cookie.

Let's see..... what else....... Piano lessons. I'm still having trouble with new notes that I'm learning. 88 keys on that keyboard and a note for each. I keep practicing..... I keep looking at the sheet music...... looking at the notes........ studying the notes........ trying to read intervals quickly...... Sometimes I think all my studying is going into one part of my brain and just hiding there and refusing to come out when I need it. Sure was much easier to learn piano when I was younger.

Books........ I've been going through my cabinet of books that I wanted to read. So far this week, I've added three books to my give-away pile. Just couldn't get into them. I refuse to read a book if I don't like the story or don't like the writing style. There are just too many books out there to read.... can't be wasting time on books that I don't like.

And that's about it. Nothing much going on today..... too much rain.... too many clouds.... not enough sun. Nice and warm outside, but no sun. Can't have everything, I guess.

Drippy Sunday

Oh goodie...... another drippy, rainy, dreary day........ which means another soup day. We didn't even feel like going out anywhere. I swear I've made more soup these past three months.......

Last night we went to dinner at J & S's..... they live on the other side of our subdivision. They invited another couple (a retired engineer and his wife who goes to Europe to buy antiques to sell at the markets here). Nice dinner..... J & S are from the Philippines and they made some of their ethic dishes---- rice noodles with vegetables--- delicious. Interesting that the woman we met there travels to European flea markets to look for antiques. I would imagine she'd have to make enough of a profit on her purchases to pay for their trips back and forth across the Atlantic. Not to mention the cost of shipping the things here. Plus, she pays a lot to store the items till the shows come around, since she doesn't sell through a shop. Seems like a lot of work when mostly everyone is shopping on eBay these days.

Always interesting conversations with J (a retired medical doctor)...... he's into everything spiritual, and very well-read on the teachings of Buddha. He can also make you think about the different 'levels of reality' as he calls it. His wife, however, brings him right back down to earth by saying something like 'his reality of the moment is anything chocolate.' He's very interesting to listen to, no matter what he's talking about. J is also the most serene person I've ever met, and he just exudes a calmness that one can't help but absorb. We have a friend who can see a person's aura and when she met J, she said his aura was bright gold, which is as near to a god-like state as one can get.

Nothing much going on today..... as I said, it's been raining all day long. I was sitting in the dining room having a cup of hot chocolate this afternoon and decided that I was tired of looking at the curtains in that room. So off the rods they came. I fashioned a Roman-type swag out of a large ivory damask tablecloth. Fabric is fabric, isn't it? That damask no longer looks like a tablecloth. Plus, over that, I layered some lace curtains, so the whole thing looks like a puffy valance of lace. The windows look better than they did before (there are three of them in that room, floor to ceiling, close together, and they don't open). Just something to do on a rainy day. Next time I'm at the stores, I'll have a look-see at the curtains. Until then, my puffy-cloud valance looks just fine.

Saturday Afternoon

Finally.... finally.... I found the local newspaper/magazine that printed the memorial page for Frankie. After the third day of trying locals stores and shops, I just decided to drive into Seabrook and go straight to the office that distributes these papers.

I remembered they said they were located near the post office in Seabrook, and I knew where that was, so I just drove down the little street and looked for some signs. Seabrook is so small, and the streets are fairly short, so it wasn't too hard to find.

They did an entire page on Frankie, with an article written by one of her friends that I had met at the hospital. They even mentioned the Reading Partners program that Frankie started up with the local school system. (That's how I met our little friend C... way back when she was in the 2nd grade. Now she's going on 14 and we're still best of friends.)

I'll send one of these papers up to Ohio to Frankie's daughter. I'm sure she'll be wanting to read this. When she went through her mother's little house for the last time, she found all of Frankie's writings and articles and she was thrilled to have them.

They titled the article "A Final Hug from Miss Frankie."

Very appropriate. Frankie gave everyone a hug. "Whether they liked it or not," as the article says.

The article's author called Frankie a 'free spirit.'

Yes she was. And she's more free now than ever before.

Hide and Seek

My husband has taught Gracie (our dog) to play hide & seek with him. Amazing how it works. He makes Gracie sit and stay in the laundry room. I count to 25, then tell Gracie to "Go find daddy."

Out comes Gracie, most often with her nose to the ground. Around the house she goes, peeking into all the rooms till she finds the most special person in her little doggy-world. During her search, we can hear her collar and tags jingling throughout the house. My husband has tried to trick her, by walking into a room and then out of it and hiding in another room. He has taken one of his slippers and left it in one room while he hides in another. Gracie is never fooled.

Gracie alternates between sniffing the carpeting as she walks around and standing very still in the middle of a room and just listening. You can actually see her brows knit up in concentration. She keeps a serious look on her face all the while, then explodes into a mass of tail-wagging, smiling dog when she finds my husband.

The most amazing part of this little game is how seriously Gracie takes all of it, and she will go from one end of the house to the other and back again until she finds my husband. Somehow, she knows the game isn't over till she finds him. And he doesn't give her a treat or a dog biscuit as a reward...... her sole 'reward' is finding him and getting a big hug.

One night after Gracie and my husband finished their games, my husband told me to hide so he could watch Gracie go through her routines as she looked for me. So I went to find a hiding place while my husband made Gracie sit in the laundry room while he counted to 25.

Off I went to hide. I was more anxious for my husband to see Gracie's method of finding me than I was for her to actually see where I was hiding.

As I sat in my hiding place, I heard my husband say "Go find mommy, Gracie... go find mommy!"

Dead silence. Not a peep.... no jingling sounds of Gracie's collar and tags.

I sat and waited. Again, I heard my husband say "Go find mommy, Gracie."

More silence. Then I finally heard my husband calling out to me: "You may as well come out. She's not moving."

What? No hide and seek for me?

I came out and there was Gracie, staring up adoringly at my husband. He told me: "She wouldn't go looking for you... she just sat there looking up at me."

Oh well. No hide and seek for me. Gracie looks for her daddy when she wants to play. She only looks for me when she wants food.

Thursday.... So Much Going On......

Cloudy day today, a little bit of sun, but not enough.

We're still trying to get copies of that Seabrook newspaper so we can read the articles about Frankie. I called the Greek restaurant today and the papers hadn't been delivered. The owner of the restaurant will save 6 copies for me when they come in. He told me to call him back tomorrow. If the papers haven't been delivered by then, I'll just try to call the newspaper direct and ask where I can pick up the copies. A already tried calling one of the papers and got an answering machine. These little town papers are just that--- little town papers, probably being run from someone's house.

Frankie had a friend in Germany who kept in touch with her via eMail. When she went into the hospital, she asked me to eMail this man and tell him of her condition, which I did. When Frankie passed away, I also eMailed him to tell him that sad news. The other day, he eMailed me to say how sorry he was...... and he also attached a photo of Frankie when she was younger.

I don't know what year the picture was taken, and I'm just guessing that Frankie was about 45 or 50 in that photo. And beautiful...... just lovely. She's wearing a white dress and holding a single red rose by her shoulder. Long dark hair......... all the years I'd known Frankie, she had gray hair. But her eyes in this younger photo are full of fire, just as they were when I knew her, and her smile is still the same.

My husband printed out the photograph on his computer and made copies for me and for A, and one for Frankie's daughter. I've already given the picture to A and we sat outside in her courtyard and oohed and aahed over that young and pretty Frankie. I'll mail a copy to Frankie's daughter tomorrow. My copy is still on my desk here...... I'll put it in a nice frame. A suggested I hang Frankie's picture up on my living room wall with the portraits of the Victorian ladies that I collect. With that white dress and the red rose, Frankie will fit right in with all those lovely ladies.

On the NY front......... I spoke to my Aunt Dolly and my cousin R and my dad today......... Daddy doesn't want to go to the funeral for my Aunt Edie. He said he doesn't want to see her dead, he'd rather remember her alive. My Aunt Dolly wasn't too happy about that decision, but she can no longer drive, and neither can my dad, so she can't really press the issue. My cousin R, who is my age, will be the one driving everyone to and fro. R calls herself "The Pony Express" because she's always bringing someone somewhere.

I called my father.... to tell him that I understand why he doesn't want to go. He said it's not just because of Aunt Edie. He said he doesn't want to go anywhere now during the month of March. He said "Too many people in this family have already died in March. I'm not going to push my luck."

Wednesday.... Rainy, Dreary, Dark, Damp.

What a day..... pouring rain, lots of wind, puddles deep enough to make the ducks happy. This morning when I woke up, I felt as if I hadn't slept all night long. As the morning wore on, I just felt sad. Couldn't explain it.... but I just felt sad enough that I could've burst into tears without trying.

This afternoon wasn't much better...... but I didn't feel sad, I just felt on edge. Couldn't explain that either. Of course, the drippy, stormy weather didn't help much.

My friend A and I had planned to go into Kemah to the little Greek restaurant for dinner tonight. I didn't want to cancel that, and figured as long as the storm eased up a bit, I'd drive there. By the time 5:30 came round, it was just drizzling out, so we went as planned. Aside from meeting for dinner and catching up with one another, we wanted to pick up copies of the Kemah/Seabrook newspaper so we could read the memorial pages they wrote about Frankie.

The best laid plans....... The newspapers hadn't been delivered by the time we left, so we now plan to call the restaurant tomorrow to see if they brought the papers by. Back we'll go to Kemah....... I'll get some extra copies as long as we're there.

When I got home, there were five messages on the answering machine. Three from my dad, one from my Aunt Dolly, one from Frankie's daughter. I called Daddy first........ he told me that my Aunt Edie died this afternoon. Not a surprise, since she'd been in and out of a comatose state for a few years now. She had Alzheimer's and didn't even know the family when they went to visist her in the nursing home. My father didn't seem too broken up about it, and didn't ask if I was going to fly up to NY for the funeral. Which I don't intend to do. My father was more upset about the date today......... my Uncle Mino passed away on March 2nd also (a few years ago). Daddy told me that next year on March 2nd, he plans to stay in bed. "Just to be on the safe side," he said. (Now you know where I get my sense of humor.)

So of course, I wondered if my Aunt Edie's passing had something to do with the intense sadness I felt this morning. I got out of bed at 7:10 this morning. Aunt Edie passed away at 7:30. Of all my aunts and uncles (on my dad's side) I would have to say that Aunt Edie kept herself the most remote. She believed that children should be seen and not heard. Not a peep. Trouble was, as much as she believed that when we were all kids, she kept on holding to that theory when we were in our 30s and 40s. We were still 'the kids." Needless to say, it was hard to get too close to someone like that. I feel sad for my dad and my other aunts, because they've lost a sister. But Aunt Edie was in and out of a coma-like state for years now...... she was 90 years old when she died today. As Johnny Carson said: "You have to know when it's time to get off the stage."

I tried to call my Aunt Dolly back, but her line was busy...... so I called my Uncle & Aunt in Arizona and told them the news. They won't be flying to NY either.... they long ago told everyone that they would visit the family while they're alive, not fly up to see them when they're dead. I can guarantee that my Aunt Dolly will be upset with me, and with Uncle Tony. She expects everyone to show up for funerals.

Then I called Frankie's daughter back...... she just wanted me to know that they got back to Ohio safely. She's sad that her brother wouldn't just let her carry out her mother's wishes for a quick cremation, but I told her not to worry about something she couldn't change. She loved her mother, her mother loved her...... that's all that counts.

It has been a day. One long, dreary day. It's supposed to be sunny tomorrow. As that song goes: Tomorrow... tomorrow... it's only a day away.

How To Keep Cats Off of Your Sofa.......

Ever since I put a pink velvet fainting sofa in my sitting room, all three of our cats have cuddled up on it. Sometimes all three of them, other times one or two of them. Try as I might, I couldn't get them to nap someplace else. So I just gave up, and put a cotton afghan over the pink velvet so at least they weren't really on the velvet.

A couple of weeks ago, I had put the cover for a cardboard box on top of the dryer in the laundry room. I was going to just throw it out. But AngelBoy found it and curled up in it and went to sleep. Within half an hour, ShadowBaby noticed him in the box and he pushed and nibbled and meowed till AngelBoy got out of the box.

Next in the box was Rusty.... he got ShadowBaby by the back of his neck and just held him there with his teeth for a half a minute or so........ just a subtle little message to make ShadowBaby get out of the box, which he did.

The box cover is still on top of the dryer. At any given time, one of the cats are in it. As one cat naps in it, another cat is waiting on top of the washer for his turn, and the third cat is resting on the little rug in front of the machines. All three cats, waiting for one cardboard box... instead of all three of them on my pretty pink velvet sofa.

I tried to add more cardboard boxes in there, but they weren't interested. They all want the one that was there first. You would think one box would be just as good as the next, but for whatever reason, the first box is the one of choice.

It amazes me that any of them like the box cover, since it isn't all that big. Just about three inches high, maybe 12 inches x 18 inches. My husband came home from work tonight and AngelBoy was in the kitchen when the car pulled into the driveway. AngelBoy ran into the laundry room, jumped on top of the dryer and dove into the box. He stuck his head down into one of the corners and I guess he thought no one could see him. I didn't want to burst his little cat-bubble, so I didn't tell AngelBoy that a three-inch-high box can't hide a 14-pound cat.

Speaking of cats, I've just finished reading the most remarkable book: "The Nine Emotional Lives of Cats," by Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson. Wonderful book, each chapter discussing the emotions that bubble up in our felines. I've always said that our three cats are so different, each personality unique. The theory that "a cat is a cat is a cat" just isn't true.

The nine emotions discussed in this book are narcissism, love, contentment, attachment, jealousy, fear, anger, curiosity, and playfulness. There was a lesson in each chapter, and I won't go into every lesson here. The non-cat people won't care..... the cat people will look for the book and read it themselves.


Gorgeous day today..... lots of sun....... I haven't planted the Morning Glory seeds yet. I want to make sure we're not going to get any more overnight frosts.