Saturday.... C's School Dance

Up late again....... we were at C's house having dinner with her parents while she and her friends went to their 8th grade dance. My husband took photos of C and her group of friends before they left for the dance..... such a nice group of kids.... most of them were here for our Christmas party last year. And we'll be inviting them all back again this year, I'm sure.

Anyway.... tonight.... I had seen C's dress and her shoes and her dangling rhinestone earrings.... but tonight I saw her all dressed up in her "Miss Larrie dress," as she called it. She came out of her room in that dress and her little high-heels and within fifteen seconds, I had tears in my eyes. C noticed that right away and she ran over to me and gave me such a big hug.

I told her they were happy tears.... she was just so beautiful and growing up right before my eyes. I was so happy for her, and so happy for my husband and I that she is part of our lives.

Jeez.... I'm typing this and my eyes are puddling up again. I guess there's a sadness here also. Of course, I wish that we had a daughter of our own.... as sweet and as smart and as socially adept as C. If I had to pick a child in this world for my own, of course I'd choose C.

So maybe that's why my eyes started to tear up. C is part of our lives, I know that...... but she isn't our child, no matter how much we love her, no matter how much she loves us.

C has always told me that I've taught her so much over the years. She gives me more credit than I'm due. I taught her little things along the way, little lessons here and there during the days we've spent together. But her parents are the great teachers in her life, in my opinion. They have raised such a well-adjusted child who is socially confident, emotionally secure, and spontaneously joyful. What wonderful gifts they have given that girl.

C will telephone us tomorrow and tell us all about the dance. I can't wait to hear it all, from beginning to end. In a couple of weeks, I'll be at her school with her parents, watching the 8th grade graduation ceremony for C and her classmates. I'd better remember to tuck some tissues into my purse.... there are bound to be more tears.

Friday.... Up Late.......

We had a late dinner..... went to Babbo Bruno's...... so now of course I can't sleep..........can't even think about getting into that bed until I feel like I've digested the meal. (Pacific salmon, in a sauce made with white wine, sliced apples, raisins & pine nuts....... and I have half of it in the fridge to enjoy tomorrow.) Is it tomorrow yet?

I'm still going through my clothes closet.... taking out what I don't wear, taking out what I no longer like, what doesn't feel good/look good. I went to SteinMart today... they had a 30%-off sale, plus I had a coupon for an extra 20%-off. (50% off... how could I not go?)

And of course I found things to buy. Do I ever not find something to buy? I have enough black clothes in my closet, so I'm buying a lot of pink and light green and aqua-blue summer tops and slacks. I swear, sometimes I think I look like a breath-mint.

I found a great skirt today... pink and yellow and white flowers... sort of a 1960s print (my sister would kill me) but it's so cute, and I knew I had white tops and pink tops to wear with it, and it was on sale for $11.00...... I mean, really, how do you leave that on the rack?

I also bought a beautiful knitted sweater with the most beautiful beading (which wasn't on sale but it was too pretty to leave it there and goodness knows I love anything with beads).

I'm sticking to my rule--- "one thing in, one thing out," so when I put the new things in the closet, I went through my closet and my dresser and took out things I could put into the donation box. I also pulled out a pretty sweater that I can give to one of the ladies at the Senior Center. I've never worn that sweater..... it belonged to my husband's mom...... totally not my style but I was keeping it just because it belonged to her. Time to get it out of the closet and let someone enjoy it.

When we came back from dinner tonight, my husband put the television on and clicked to the Comedy Channel. We watched a 30-something-year-old comedienne, wearing a pretty pink dress and silver high heels.... nice-looking with a sweet face and great Maria-Shriver hair. She was saying some of the most outrageous things, and she was very funny. I'm convinced that if she wasn't as pretty, and not as well-dressed as she was, her act would've been on the "raunchy" side, instead of funny and cute.

Which proves, in my opinion, that you can get away with just about anything if you're wearing the right clothes.

Thursday.... Vet Visit with J.

Our phone rang before 9:00 this morning. Our friend J was on the phone... his little dog was sick, and poor J was just totally beside himself. He couldn't find the phone number for his vet, so I found it for him and called the office to tell him he'd be on his way there with little Mandy.

Of all days, his vet was out of town till next week. Back on the phone I got, and called J to give him directions to our vet. J was so upset because his dog wasn't doing too well that he couldn't even grasp the directions I was trying to give him. I finally just told him to drive to my house and I'd get him and Mandy to the vet. (Our vet's office is closer to our house than to J's.)

And, of all days, there I was at 9:00, still in p-js and not a stitch of make-up on. Not exactly my thing to go out without make-up. Now.... could I get make-up on before J got from his house in League City to our house in Clear Lake? Ten miles.... ten minutes for make-up.... I've never brushed my teeth and got make-up on and gotten dressed so quickly unless we've had to catch a plane.

I knew that J would just pull into our driveway and honk the horn, so I was prepared for that. (No one honks their horns here.... that's such a NY thing to do, and J is also from NY, so I just knew he'd be doing that.) I had gotten AngelBoy in from the backyard and put him on the porch with ShadowBaby, so the cats were all set. Gracie was just watching me rushing around: locking doors, calling my husband to let him know where I'd be, grabbing my purse and shoes and keys.

J was just so upset.... his little dog is 13 years old and she was crying and holding her left front paw out straight and not able to move it. I wanted to drive, but J wouldn't get out from behind the wheel of his car. He was just too upset to move, and all he could do was talk to Mandy and the tears were just flowing to beat the band.

Off we went.... J driving and crying, Mandy whimpering and crying and looking at me as if I were an intruder in her car. J kept looking down at his dog and talking to her... I kept telling him to watch the road, and I'd watch the dog. And the tears kept falling.... made me wonder if we'd make it to the vet's office without driving through a tree first.

But we did.... and our friend and vet took care of Mandy... x-rays and pain-killers.... poor little thing has arthritis, and she must have hurt her leg this morning jumping down from J's bed. The vet told J to put a little footstool by the bed so Mandy wouldn't have so far to jump.... she's getting too old and too arthritic now for such high-jumps.

We were at the vet's for over an hour. In that time, J went through a box of tissues, and poor Mandy just couldn't stay close enough to J. They've been together for so long... J got her when she was 6 or 7 weeks old and they've been together ever since. And she's such a tiny little thing... just fourteen pounds.

I don't know what was worse this morning.... hearing that little dog whimpering or watching J cry because he didn't know what was wrong with Mandy and he was thinking the worst was about to happen.

Children of the 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s, 70s...

The following essay was sent to me via eMail from a friend of ours. It is just so great, I had to copy/paste it into here. (I'm also thrilled that I finally learned how to copy/paste!)

TO ALL THE KIDS WHO SURVIVED the1930's 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's !! First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us. They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing and didn't get tested for diabetes. Then after that trauma, our baby cribs were covered with brightly colored lead-based paints. We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets. When we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention the risks we took hitch-hiking. As children, we would ride in cars with no seatbelts or air bags. Riding in the back of a pick-up on a warm day was always a special treat. We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle. We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this.

We ate cupcakes, bread and butter, and drank soda pop with sugar in it, but we weren't overweight because WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING! We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the street lights came on. No one was able to reach us all day....and we were O.K. We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem. We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 99 channels on cable, no video-taped movies, no surround-sound, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or Internet chat rooms..........WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!

We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents. We made up games with sticks and tennis balls and ate worms and although we were told it would happen, we did not put out very many eyes, nor did the worms live in us forever.
We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just walked in and talked to them! Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of.
They actually sided with the law! This generation has produced some of the best risk-takers, problem-solvers and inventors ever! The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas. We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!

And YOU are one of them... CONGRATULATIONS! You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as kids, before the lawyers and the government regulated our lives for our own good. Kind of makes you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn't it?!

Wednesday..... Gorgeous Day

Today was picture-postcard perfect...... nice and warm, but not too hot. Cool breeze coming in from the Gulf, just enough to stir up the air without making it a bad-hair day. It's a day like this that makes me forget all about Monday's rain.

Wednesday is piano-lesson day, and that went well this morning. Come to think of it, the lessons have been going really well. I think everything just clicked and I don't find myself sitting in front of the keyboard and searching for a 'B' or an 'E' or the always illusive 'A flat.' Somehow, all the notes are right where they should be... and were probably right there all along. (I can hear my dear friend Frankie saying: "I told you that long ago, darlin'.")

I'm still going through the clothes in my closet. Every time I take something out that I think I want to wear, I stand there in front of the mirror and decide if it's really me or definitely not me. If it isn't me, then it goes right into the donation box. One of the local charities picked up two small boxes of not me clothes today. The boxes were filled with clothes that I've just had for too many years. I tend to do that.... keep clothes for years and years. They don't wear out, I don't buy anything too trendy so they don't go really out of style, and as long as they fit and I still like them and wear them, then I just keep them.

Somehow, the clothes that I was wearing in my 40s are not feeling and looking the same now that I'm into my third year of the 50s. The feel of the fabric is the first thing.... if it doesn't feel soft against my skin, then into the donation box it goes. I somehow managed to find three blouses in my closet that probably would've set off a metal detector at an airport--- talk about scratchy material. What in the world was I thinking when I bought those? I bought them in my 4os, when style was "key." Now in my wisdom-enriched 50s, comfort is "key." (And blouses with metallic threads running through them doesn't spell comfort.)

I've seen the inside of Marshall's and SteinMart just about every week for the last month. I find clothes on the racks, try them on in the dressing room, pay for them and take them home. Then the next morning, I try them on again in my own dressing room. Sometimes, the same clothes that I loved the night before in the store turn into something totally different in my own mirrors. There are two full-length mirrors in my dressing room, and believe me, they have no mercy. If something doesn't look good from all sides, it becomes evident in three seconds flat. (Like the three pairs of shorts I just returned: they looked great from the front. From the back, the pockets did strange things to my hips.)

And back to the store I go.... I get a full refund.... then I go searching the racks again. I returned those three pairs of shorts tonight, came home with two more items (a pair of capris and a blouse). Not wanting to wait till morning, I tried them on when I got home. These are keepers. I've already ironed them and they're in my closet. The capris even get bonus points, because not only do they match the blouse I bought tonight, but I have four other tops in my closet that look great with them. (That's a good shopping trip in my book.)

Men just wouldn't understand all of this. A good shopping trip for a man is not to have to go into a store in the first place. (They don't know what they're missing.)

Drippy Monday

The weekend was beautiful..... today is rainy, drippy, dreary, wet. The rest of the week is supposed to be warm and sunny, but today is a soup day for sure. I've already made crawfish bisque, so dinner is done.

We spent yesterday with our 14-year-old friend C.... my husband and I couldn't get over how tall C has gotten in just the last couple of months. It's like overnight, she has gone from a little girl to a young lady. Totally amazing.... we just couldn't get over it. The three of us went to Kemah for lunch, and sat out by the water and watched the boats go by. Of course, we all picked out our favorites. (Mine was as big as The Queen Mary.) Then we played a game of miniature golf, and stopped at an ice cream shoppe for homemade ice cream (49 flavors to pick from).

I was so careful to make those banana muffins as low-calorie as I could, only to follow them with real ice cream. Oh well.... I got just a "kiddie-sized" cup of chocolate. (49 flavors, but plain chocolate is still my favorite.)

Before taking C back home, we stopped at our house to measure C up against our breakfast room door. A few years ago, my husband started making marks in the door to record her height. Yesterday's mark was an inch and a half higher than the last mark he made. Needless to say, C is thrilled that she's getting taller. Needless to add... we're somewhat sad that this little girl is growing up.

And this Saturday night is C's first school dance.... I've seen her dress, her shoes, her jewelry... but I (we) won't see her all dressed up in everything till Saturday evening. We're going to her house to take some pictures.

Note to self: buy film... and buy an extra box of tissues.

Banana Pecan Muffins

What to do with three small bananas that were over-ripe........ get out the recipe book and make banana bread..... or in this case, muffins. Of course, I took a perfectly good recipe and changed it around to eliminate some of the fat and calories, so if I don't write it down here, I'll forget what I did.

The recipe called for 2/3 cup sugar and 1/2 cup shortening. (Ugh. Straight to the hips that would go.)

I used 2/3 cup Splenda (delicious faux-sugar) and 1/2 peach butter (similar to apple butter, only made with peaches). I creamed those together in a large bowl, then added two eggs, one at a time, and mixed till smooth. (Mixed with a spatula.) Into that, I added about 1/4 cup of finely chopped pecans, then added the three mashed-up bananas and mixed just till everything was combined.

In a smaller bowl, I mixed together 1/2 tsp. salt, 1 & 1/4 cup flour, 3/4 tsp. baking soda, 1/4 tsp. baking powder..... stirred that all up, then added it to the banana mixture in the larger bowl and mixed it with the spatula till everything was blended nicely.

I just bought a new muffin pan.... the mini-muffin size..... so I used that. Instead of greasing the pan, I used those paper liners that they sell. Into a 350-degree oven, for about 15 minutes. The recipe made 16 muffins. Delicious....... especially the one I had with a cup of tea as soon as they were done baking... warm from the oven, and the peach butter made them moist and sweet.

Friday Stuff

Pretty day out there today.... just a little cloudy, but everything is in bloom and wherever you drive or walk, you can just smell the sweetness in the air.... honeysuckle, jasmine, white lilacs, hibiscus.

I've been listening to a new CD by "Il Divo"....... wonderful group of 4 men with voices that are off the charts. They were on Oprah's show a few weeks back and I ordered the CD on Amazon. The songs are a mixture of English and Spanish and even if you don't understand all the Spanish words, beautiful music is still beautiful music.

The songs are so beautifully orchestrated and the background music sounds like a symphony. The CD is so good that I'm giving my Manilow CDs a rest. (Barry is probably saying Thank you.)

The "Il Divo" CD has gotten me interested in learning Spanish. I studied that language in high school and was actually very good at it.... so good that I was able to understand everything my family said in Italian. But when you don't use a language, you forget it, which I have. But that can be fixed.... during my errands this morning, I went to the bookstore and found two simple-to-follow books. One is called "Spanish for Gringos" and the other is a Spanish/English dictionary. Between the two, I should be able to make some progress in teaching myself the language. Heavens knows, it will come in handy here in southeast Texas anyway.

When I have Spanish down pat, maybe I'll try learning Greek, so I'll be able to understand the words on my Greek music CDs. Then again, I'm sure that wouldn't be as easy as learning Spanish.

The Amazing Race

Okay, I am hooked on this show this season... and have been since the first episode. All because The Houston Chronicle had an article about one of the couples (Uchenna and Joyce) who happen to live in Houston. The article was so interesting... how could I not tune in and see the first episode?

And the second... and the third.... and I'm still watching. And I will be here in front of the television for the last episode, I'm sure. How could I not?

Tonight was a sad night for Lynn and Alex... they were eliminated... and I could have cried for them. They were gracious right to the end... accepting the loss and saying they had a great time.

The Houston couple got me watching, but I was rooting for Lynn and Alex because they were having so much fun and they made me laugh. Now I'll be hoping that Uchenna and Joyce make it to the end and win it all. Especially after tonight--- Joyce had to get her head shaved as part of the "fast forward" option that they chose. She really showed what she was made of. I mean honestly... how many women would sit there and let a stranger cut off all their hair and then shave off the rest of it? Joyce cried just a little, her husband kept telling her she was beautiful, and you could tell that he actually meant every word.

I swear, I was sitting there with tears in my eyes as all of her pretty braids were cut off. Between The Amazing Race on Tuesday nights, and The Apprentice on Thursday nights, I've watched more television this year than in all of the past ten years put together.

And, of course, I have to watch Oprah. To use Oprah's words: I know one thing for sure--- I wouldn't be in The Amazing Race for very long. One broken nail and I'd be ready to go home.

Anyway.... the cardinals in Rome elected a new pope today. Should be interesting, given that CNN reports that this man will further divide a church that's already divided enough. He's a conservative, as was John Paul II.... but they say he doesn't have JP's personality. Well, Pope Benedict XVI had better take a crash course in making nice, because he has some big shoes to fill. There will be no one in The Vatican telling him "You're fired!" if he doesn't go a good job. Then again, the man is 78.... how long can he reign? Maybe ten good years? Which may be what the cardinals had in mind.

Saturday and Sunday Stuff

Very pretty weekend.... lots of sun, nice breezes from the Gulf, warm but not hot. Seems that everyone is out working in their yards... planting flowers, trimming bushes, or just sitting out and having a look-see at what's already there (which is the category I fit into).

Yesterday afternoon, our friends A & D brought their out-of-town company for a visit. They're from NY... D's niece and husband, and their little baby girl. They've been here for a few days and have already seen a lot of the area and are liking/loving what they've found. So much so that they're spending some time looking at houses. Everyone is always so amazed at how far their housing dollars can go down here, as opposed to how far it doesn't go up north. Their little baby girl was totally adorable.... sweet rosey cheeks that you just want to kiss. Our poor Gracie had such a sad look on her face... maybe a little jealousy because of the baby. Gracie is used to being the only 'baby girl' in this house.

Last night, my husband and I went to Babbo Bruno's for dinner. I just love that restaurant. We sit at the same corner table, we have the same waitress, the owner/chef comes out to say hello, his wife comes to our table to chat for a bit, we don't have to ask for tea, for bread, for anything... I guess we've been going there so long now that they just know what to bring and when to bring it. I've gotten so spoiled with their tea that I've begun making myself a small teapot of hot tea when we have dinner home. In a teapot... with a cup and saucer, not a mug.

Today, we went to Kemah to have lunch at one of the waterfront restaurants with friend J & S. We sat outside and watched the boats go by..... all of us picking our favorite boats, followed up by 27 reasons not to buy a boat. (Gas prices, docking charges, maintenance, etc.) We walked around the boardwalk after lunch, then drove to Goodies Creamery for their homemade ice cream. Definitely the best ice cream in Clear Lake... 49 flavors to choose from... all made by hand by the family who owns the creamery. They have a kiddie-cup size, which gives you about 1/4 cup of ice cream, which is the perfect size for me. Gives you a nice taste of the ice cream without having it drop down to your thighs after ten minutes.

Took Gracie for a walk when I got home, just to keep that ice cream moving... then walked up to A's to see her and play with the baby again. Her husband was out driving around with his niece and her husband.... looking at houses again. Which doesn't surprise me... mostly everyone who comes down here wants to pick up and move here.

And that's been about the day..... tomorrow begins another week.... and hopefully, the workmen will be here at 8:30 as promised, to fix the problem in the just-tiled bathroom so we can actually use that bathroom instead of just oohing and aahing over how pretty it looks.

It's Always Something....

On the plus side... the handymen showed up here two mornings in a row-- on time. Which was a good thing. Oprah's Nate would be proud.

On the minus side... the handymen have to come back here first thing Monday morning-- apparently the seal around the base of the toilet wasn't fixed properly and there is a very slight leak. Which, of course, happened after they had left this afternoon. Too late, of course, for them to get back here today. And they don't work on Saturdays (???) so that leads us to Monday.

On the plus side again... the new bathroom floor tiles look beautiful... so pretty that I don't even want to walk on the floor. (I'll snap out of that right soon.) Also, the new toilet is much nicer looking than the old one... so much so that I rearranged some of the decorative things in there (translation: I didn't put everything back in that I had taken out).

On the minus side again... we now have a beautiful "new" bathroom that we can't use till the workers get back here on Monday.

I'll be watching AngelBoy really, really closely during the next few days and weeks. One of the things I rearranged in the bathroom was his litter box... it's in a different corner of the room. (I didn't want it too close to the brand-new commode.) AngelBoy doesn't appreciate changes of any kind. This afternoon after the workers left, he tip-toed into the bathroom and inspected every one of those new tiles. I could actually see his whiskers twitching from side to side. (I swear, this cat might have been a rabbit in a previous life... he can wiggle his nose, twitch his whiskers, and his fur is bunny-soft.)

So until my picky, prissy little AngelBoy gets used to the idea that his litter box is facing west instead of east, I'll have to keep an eye on him when he's in the house.

As I said... it's always something.

Italian Texas Chili

I got to thinking about the Chili Cook-Off that we went to last weekend... some of those chili concoctions were downright frightening. I offered to make my own chili recipe for my husband and he looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. Not surprising.... since I don't eat chili. I guess he thought since I didn't eat it, I couldn't make it. (Oh he of little faith.)

There is now a small pot of my own chili in the fridge... which my husband said was very good. I hadn't made chili in at least 15 years, so I figured I'd better type the recipe in here so in case he wants a second pot of it, I'll remember what I did the first time. (Oh me of little faith.)

First, I browned up some ground beef.... the best that I could find in the store.... I think it was 98% lean ground sirloin. I browned that up with a diced-up medium-sized Vidalia onion, as well as a diced-up sweet red pepper. I let the onion and red peppers cook down till they were nearly carmelized, before adding in the ground beef and letting all of that brown together. I added in salt and pepper.... then a few cups of crushed tomatoes (I used canned Progresso). Just enough of a large-size can to make the mixture like a very thick stew. (I saw too many chili recipes at the Chili Cook-Off that were too thin and watery.) ---- (No beans in this chili recipe... but if my husband liked beans in his chili, I'd use the large red kidney beans.)

After that was all mixed together, I let it all simmer on very low heat for about half an hour. Then I started adding chili powder. Extra-strength Texas-style chili powder. Teaspoonful by teaspoonful, into the meat mixture it went. I actually tasted a tiny bit of the chili after each addition of the chili spice. When my mouth started to feel numb, I added another teaspoonful and called it quits. Then I let my husband taste it.... he said it was "mild." So I added in a full tablespoonful of the chili powder. That did it.... it was no longer mild... but I lost track of how many teaspoonfuls and tablespoonfuls went into the pot.

Which means if I make chili again, I'll have to wing it again with the chili powder. (Oh ye of little spice.)

Thursday Tile Work.......

Lo and behold...... there is indeed a Handyman God.......... the workers were here right on time this morning. Out came the old linoleum floor and the old commode. The old linoleum is tied up for trash, and the old commode is sitting out on our front lawn right now till they put it in their truck and take it away.

The commode looks lovely on the lawn...... if I lived out in Alvin (a tiny Texas town, home of baseball great Nolan Ryan).... I could use the toilet as yard decor. There is actually a ranch-home out there with half a dozen old toilets sitting on the front lawn-- with flowering plants blooming up out of them all year long. I don't think my Clear Lake neighbors would appreciate that sort of country-charm here on our street, though, and neither would I.

The new tiles look great.... much better than the old flooring. Can't wait till the whole room is done and put back together again. Gracie and the cats are all on the porch....... not one of them is happy about that. They all love the porch, but don't appreciate not being able to come in and out of it as they please. Gracie keeps trying to push the door open so she can get into the breakfast room.... not going to work, since I latched the door. Oh well, I'll have one dog and three cats upset with me for the rest of the day.

Another Handyman Journey....

.... And so it begins.... tomorrow morning at 9:00 (translation: possibly 10:30)... the workers will be here to tear up the lineoleum floor in the second bathroom and install the new ceramic tiles. I have just taken away the scatter-rugs in there, and the little vanity seat, and the candlesticks that sat on the floor by the tub. (Translation: I've cleared the way for the workers, to make it easy for them to begin as soon as they get here... sometime before noon.)

I had to laugh at an eMail I got recently from Frankie's friend in Germany. He said they have similar problems with handymen over on his side of the Atlantic as well. He also suggested that my husband and I consider doing the work ourselves, to get the job done quicker and to save some money. I laughed out loud at that. R has no idea that our household tool-box consists of a hammer, some nails, a jar of screws, a pair of pliers, and a few screwdrivers. And somewhere in the garage is a power-drill and some extension cords.

Speaking for myself, I do not want to learn how to rip up lineoleum and install ceramic tiles, nor do I even want to think about taking out a commode and installing a new one. For goodness sake... I could break a nail. I don't even pump my own gas into my car-- I rely on the one last remaining gas station in Clear Lake that has a "full service" gas pump. If they ever change that policy, I guess I'll have to learn... but that's another story.

Speaking for my husband... with all the hours he puts into his job, he doesn't have time to be Mr. Handyman around this house, so scratch that idea. I'm just happy that we've found a good contractor who will come out here for all these "small jobs" that need to be done. I searched the telephone book last year when we needed work done on the master bathroom.... no one wanted to come out here to install "just" a new shower. Jeez... you would think I had wanted someone out here to turn on a faucet for me so I could get a drink of water.

I'll be happy to see ceramic tiles in that bathroom, rather than the lineoleum. It wasn't my favorite lineoleum pattern, to say the least, but it served its purpose for the past 8 1/2 years. I know what will happen, though. Once those new tiles are in, I'm going to get itchy fingers to have the lineoleum changed in the other bathroom. But we'll see. One bathroom at a time.

The Pope and The Prince

Busy couple of weeks for the television news programs........ the Pope died and the Prince of Wales got married.

I watched the news as the Pope's health began to fail..... it was evident that the end of his life was very near, especially the day he appeared at his window and couldn't speak. The poor man looked to be in such pain. I had to wonder why they let him be seen like that, as his health failed and his dignity melted away.

The Pope's funeral was very impressive, and the music and the choir were indeed beautiful. There were at least 200 leaders from around the world, all gathered together at The Vatican. I wonder if the rest of the world had their fingers crossed that all would go well, with no "international incident" of any kind.

Should be interesting to see who the next Pope will be. Not that I follow that religion anymore, but it's just a matter of curiosity on my part. Pope John Paul II was so adamant about not having women as priests, not allowing priests to marry...... sooner or later, the Catholic Church is going to have to change their traditional ways, or they won't have many people filling up the pews of their churches. In my humble opinion.

As for the Prince of Wales...... I hope he's finally happy. Somehow, I think he's happier being in a state of melancholy rather than in a state of bliss. But again, that's just my opinion.

Years and years ago, I got up before dawn to watch the wedding of Charles and Diana. It was a fairy-tale wedding, except that the Prince and Princess didn't live happily ever after, of course. Far from it. And how sad........ for them, for their two sons, for their country.

And now Charles has what he wanted from the beginning: Camilla. I have to say that she looked wonderful on her wedding day. The magic of being a bride... after all, don't all brides look beautiful? The British press has been awful towards poor Camilla, but she handled it all very well. At least in public. For all we know, once she got behind her own front door, she quite possibly hid herself in a closet and cried till her mascara ran down to her toes.

I think the only way that Prince Charles can prove to his country that he is indeed a man is to announce that he won't accept the position of King of England when his mother the Queen passes away. There's been too much controversy with Charles. Too many shadows following him around, even now that he's changed Camilla from a mistress to a wife. But he'll insist on being King when the time comes. And even then, His Royal Whineness will find something to complain about.

As I told our friends B & P at dinner last night...... I talk about the Windsors as if I'm part of the family.

Saturday.... Texas Chili.... Greek Food

Gorgeous day... sunny, warm, breezy, blue sky, high puffy clouds.... perfect southeast Texas day from sun-up to sunset.

This afternoon was the annual Chili Cook-Off at the local college.... so off we went to that. I don't eat chili, but my husband does, and we go there for this every year. For a $3.00 entrance fee, you get plastic cups and spoons and you can eat your little chili-heart out as you go from booth to booth sampling all the chili recipes. Before you leave, you vote on the best-tasting chili.

There must have been about 20 booths this year, all of them decorated with different themes... from an Hawaiian luau-look to a mod-1960s-groovy design. There are also prizes for the most creative booth designs. The Hawaiian booth stuck tiny paper umbrellas into their cups of chili, the 1960s-hippie booth gave everyone plastic peace signs to hang around their necks. The Indian chili (vegetarian) gave everyone paper crowns decorated with rhinestones and beads.

So my husband went from booth to booth sampling the chili, I followed along and held the paper bag filled with the spoons and cups. I also got to taste cornbread from some of the booths who offered small squares along with their chili. Only three booths this year had cornbread... the others had the usual diced onions, grated cheese, sliced peppers, corn chips, and crackers. One cute idea with the cornbread--- they baked it in large shallow pans which resulted in 1/2"-thick cornbread which they cut with cookie-cutters. So the cornbread was in the shape of the state of Texas, or a large star, or a cowboy boot, or a cactus. Cute idea... and their cornbread was the best-tasting. (Too bad they didn't give prizes for that.)

Tonight, we met our friends B & P for dinner.... we went to one of the local restaurants which specializes in Greek and Turkish foods. They're located right across the road from the Johnson Space Center and they've gotten quite a reputation in this area. (In fact, when Paul McCartney came to Houston a couple of years ago, this restaurant catered all the food for McCartney's concert.)

Dinner was delicious, conversation was interesting/hilarious/thought-provoking, and we sat and talked for nearly three hours. B & P will be moving to Dallas this coming June.... a fact that is breaking the hearts of all of their Houston/Galveston friends. I told B & P that I'll have to arrange a Charades Party before they leave. It will give us all a chance to not only say good-bye, but to ask them "Are you sure you want to go?"

We were talking about parties during dinner, and I told B & P that they will just have to drive down from Dallas for our Christmas party, because we've got something really great planned. Then P said they would also have to drive down for New Year's Eve to spend it with us. They missed last New Year's Eve because they had out-of-town company, but they had joined us the year before last and we all had such a great time. I told B & P that we'd be doing something different this year... we don't know exactly what yet, but now I've got to get thinking.

As I told B & P: "Such pressure.... not even the end of April and I've got to start planning something for New Year's Eve that will be worthy of a five-hour drive down from Dallas."

Thursday Tid-Bits...

Glorious weather we've been having....... every time I get in my car, I blast one of the Manilow CDs and leave one of the back windows open just an inch or so and let the music soar up into the blue sky.

I took Gracie on an extra-long walk this evening. It was just so pretty outside that after walking around the park with her, I just kept on walking. Between the jasmine and the hibiscus blooms, the air is popping with delicious aromas.

Piano.... I've been trying to play a short piece by Johann Sebastian Bach.... trying now for the past couple of weeks. What on earth was Bach thinking? The left hand must do something totally different than the right hand. K (piano teacher) says I've played other songs that call for the same method. Maybe so, but it wasn't Bach. So I keep at it.... and at it.... one of these days, it will just click and I'll get it. Until then, I keep asking why there must be 88 keys on a piano.

I once asked Frankie that question. Her answer: "Well, darling, 77 was superfluous, 99 seemed like over-kill, but somehow 88 was just right."

When I stopped laughing, Frankie quietly, seriously added: "You have 88 keys. Don't fight it. Deal with it." Frankie at her life-lesson best.

Waiting for The Other Paw to Drop....

AngelBoy has been very, very good lately, which makes me extra-cautious with him. As my middle cat, he's the most sensitive. And he lets his fractured sensitivities show in the most inventive ways he can imagine.

But lately, even though he's been pounced on by Rusty (oldest cat), AngelBoy has been a charming little blue-eyed cat for months now. Instead of being confined to either the screen-porch or the laundry room at night, AngelBoy has been sleeping in our bedroom at night. He sleeps on the fainting sofa in there, on top of a bright blue fleece blanket. I no longer believe that cats can't distinguish one color from another.... AngelBoy is definitely attracted to anything blue. And I doubt if he knows that the shades of blue he loves match the blue of his eyes.

I don't know why Rusty is doing all of this pouncing on AngelBoy, but when I hear Rusty meowing loudly and walking towards AngelBoy, I know what's going to happen: Rusty gets behind AngelBoy's neck and clamps his teeth into the thick fur and just hangs on for dear life. And poor AngelBoy doesn't even fight back or try to get away... he just lays there, letting out one high-pitched "meeewwww" after another, till I get there to break them apart.

More often than not, AngelBoy gives Rusty a scathing look before walking away, then he'll jump up on the pink velvet sofa in my sitting room and curl up for hours. Clearly, AngelBoy seems to be embarrassed that he had to be rescued from Rusty's jaws.

I'm surprised that AngelBoy hasn't turned this displeasure into an "accident" in a corner of the carpeting. He hasn't done that in the longest time, which is why I had started to put him in the porch or the laundry room at night. And don't think that AngelBoy isn't aware of the night-time routine around here. Somehow, that little blue-eyed cat knows when I'm going to pick him up and put him in "his room" for the night.

The reason I stopped confining him at night was because when I went to get him and put him into his room, he would run away from me and go straight to his litter box and use it. He would sit in there and look me square in the eye, then walk out with his tail up high and he'd walk close by my leg and give me a blue-eyed look that seemed to say "There! I've done all I needed to do! Are you happy now?"

So I started letting him stay "free" in the house at night when he started to do that, and he's been using his litter box every night just before I get ready for bed. Then he walks into our bedroom and curls up on the blue blanket on the sofa and he stays there all night long. He'll wake me up at dawn, usually, mewing by my side of the bed. He does this because he has again used his litter box. AngelBoy is like me... he doesn't like to see a dirty box, and he wants it cleaned out. I can't fault him for that one.... he knows the routine around here.

The big test with AngelBoy will come when the workers start re-doing the smaller bathroom. The old linoleum has to come up, and new tiles have to be installed. AngelBoy's favorite litter box is in that bathroom, and I'll have to take it out of there while the men are working. Now if that isn't enough to mess up this blue-eyed cat's routine, I don't know what is.

I can see AngelBoy now... his little blue-eyed, furry self sitting in the hallway outside of that bathroom while the men are working... and he'll be thinking: "Hey! You with the tile! Are you done yet?"

Rusty's Saturday Morning

Rusty is our oldest cat.... approximately 12 years old now...... we found him the year after we moved here, and the vet guessed that he was about a year old when we found him. Or rather, he found us. As my friend Frankie used to say: "Cats always seem to find people who will take them in, not boot them out."

Rusty is the ultimate cat. So "ultimate" that he looks like Morris the cat in those cat food commercials. Unlike finicky Morris, however, Rusty never met a morsel of food that he didn't like. He is overweight, but healthy as a horse, as that old saying goes.

I've tried to keep his little cat-face out of the food bowls of the other cats, but Rusty is smarter than I am. If I turn on the vacuum and don't remember to pick up the cat food bowls, he'll sit there and eat every last bit while I'm running the vacuum cleaner and not paying attention to what's going on in the kitchen. Rusty also knows that if I go out the front door with Gracie on her leash, then he's got some time to see what's left in the other cats' dishes. And if there's nothing left in the cat food dishes, he'll just sit there and eat whatever Gracie has left in her dish.

With this warm weather now, I can keep Rusty out on the deck in the backyard, and he has access to just his own food dish, and I can control his portions. Or so I thought. This morning, as I was eating my own breakfast and watching the birds at the feeders, I saw Rusty race from the sofa on the deck and plow head-first into the flower garden. I can't remember the last time I saw that cat move so fast.

I just sat where I was, eating my oatmeal and watching the birds, and trying to see what Rusty was doing in the flower bed. He was behind the Sago Palm, which is very thick at the bottom, and I could hardly see him at all. A couple of minutes passed, and there came Rusty, walking slowly out between the white begonias. Such a determined step, his eyes looking straight at me through the breakfast room windows. (Those windows go from floor to ceiling so we had a clear view of one another.) He knew I was watching him and he never lost eye contact with me as he walked across the lawn and up onto the deck.

One step up to the deck and he sat there facing the breakfast room windows so I could see him. He had something in his mouth, and I moved closer to the window for a better look. A lizard. A big fat green lizard. Its head and two front legs were hanging out of one side of Rusty's mouth, its tail and two back legs hanging out of the other side. The body of the lizard was clamped between Rusty's jaws.

Wonderful. I had a mouthful of oatmeal as I'm watching all of this. I stopped chewing just as Rusty started to chew his little green snack. All the while, Rusty kept eye contact with me as he munched on the poor little thing. As if to say "Go ahead and cut my calories.... I'll find my own."

I left the breakfast room and went to the far end of the house... to my husband's computer room. He was working at the computer. I sat on the sofa in there with the rest of my oatmeal and told him what his cat was doing. He thought it was funny. He didn't see the grossness of it at all.

Men. They all stick together, no matter the species.