Vote this.

I don't usually write about political issues. I hate to even talk about politics because it bores me to tears and there are as many opinions as there are people in this country. As far as I'm concerned, in my own personal opinion, not much changes in this country when a new president is elected-- except for the nameplate on the desk in the Oval Office.

I have, for the longest time, said that what this country does not need is another politician. What it does need, in my own opinion, is someone real, someone who has worked from the bottom up without the benefit of being fed with a silver spoon, someone who can see that this country is running itself to the ground, settling for mediocrity instead of striving for excellence, someone who can admit that the school systems need to be fixed because if we're not going to properly educate the next generations, then we might as well just pack up the country now and be done with it.

And here comes Barack Obama. Not a politician, in my opinion. Someone real, who has certainly worked his way to the top even with all the obstacles that life and society has tossed to him along the way. He's a gentleman, who seems to me to have aimed for excellence, kicking mediocrity out of his way with every step. And he has indeed admitted that if this country can't pay teachers a decent wage, then we're not going to have good teachers, and our schools will fail, our students will fail, and our future will fail.

I watched Obama's speech last night from the stadium in Denver. That man can speak. Speak, with a capital S. I hope he gets elected, I hope his dreams of a newer, better country come to be. I hope Obama continues to be a man, not a politician. When the signs are posted here at our local library for "Early Voting," I will be one of the first on line. I want to vote early, before the library lawn is covered with political signs, before the lines for voting wrap around the library in November.

And this morning..... John McCain has announced his running mate. Alaska's governor, Sarah Palin. I laughed out loud when I heard his choice. Not because I think the governor from Alaska isn't up to the task-- I have never heard of her, I know nothing about her. What made me laugh was that last week, I told my husband that the only way McCain could compete against Obama was to give the Vice-President spot to a woman. Mc Cain had buried himself, in my opinion, especially with his remark last week about $5,000,000 (five million dollars!) being the measurement for "rich" in this country. Does that mean that anyone having less than five million is in the middle class? Can McCain be that far removed from society? That far removed from the people he wants votes from?

Why did I think McCain would pick a woman? Because, "my friends," (to quote McCain) he is a politician, through and through. He wants to win, period. Whether he's good for the country or bad for the country, that doesn't seem to matter. Winning is all that matters. And having a woman running as his Vice President is going to give his campaign the kick, the spice, the extra something that he needs. Because, lord knows, McCain can't hold it together on his own.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Even if I had intended to vote for McCain, his VP choice would have changed my mind in a heartbeat. And speaking of a heartbeat, this governor from Alaska, who has just two years of an elected office behind her, will be a heartbeat away from the presidency, as the saying goes. And wasn't McCain and his party complaining about Obama not having enough experience to be president?

Give me a blessed break. Give me Barack Obama. And I swear, if I have to hear McCain say "my friends...." one more time, I think I will just scream.

Thursday Thai lunch.

Our friend K drove in from downtown this afternoon and we went to a local Thai restaurant for lunch. My husband and I used to go there on a regular basis, but we had stopped for some reason. Not that there's anything wrong with this restaurant... we just got into the habit of driving to other restaurants farther away for Chinese food, or downtown for Thai food.

This little Thai place is tucked into a corner of a tiny shopping center not far from here, and that's where we decided to eat today with K. As soon as we walked in there, it was as if we had been there yesterday. The waitress who was always there in the beginning is still there, and she came up to us to say that it had been too long since she had seen us. Before we went into the restaurant, I peeked at the little tree just outside the front door-- the owner burns incense at the base of that tree every morning before he opens for business... he had told me once that this custom brings luck, dispels bad spirits, and calms the heart. At the base of the tree were the ends of the incense sticks, so I knew he was still shooing away bad spirits and calming his heart.

The restaurant is small, and they have soft music playing which is always soothing and easy to listen to... background music with a purpose, rather than "elevator music." The tables are covered with bright white tablecloths, the plates and utensils are perfectly set, the napkins expertly folded. Everything in that restaurant shines and glistens with cleanliness. "Pride of place," as my Uncle Mino would call it.

For such a small restaurant, their menu is extensive, and K couldn't decide what to order. She loves Thai food, and there are many larger Thai restaurants in the downtown area that she goes to every week. Plus she had traveled to Thailand, so she's not exactly a novice with a Thai menu. When she didn't see what she wanted on their menu, she just asked the waitress if the cook would make something for her--- some sort of eggplant dish in a green curry sauce, I think it was.

Before the main course, they bring you a very small cup of soup, then another plate comes with a small salad and either a fresh Spring Roll or a fried one, depending on which you asked for. Then comes the main course... each course is carefully timed so you're finished with one plate before they bring you the next. Between the wonderful music, the white tablecloths, and the efficient service, you would be perfectly content to just sit there for hours and talk.

Now that we've gone back to this Thai restaurant, it seems ridiculous to drive all the way to the other side of the Gulf Freeway to the large Chinese restaurant that is always too cold, too noisy, and too hard to get to because of all the road work on the side of the Freeway.

Before we left today, K and the waitress were speaking to one another in the Thai language, complete with folded hands and bowed heads.

A couple of thoughts...

Two things that I recently thought about... I can't remember their origins, but I remember the phrases.


There are two types of people in this world--- those who believe that nothing is a miracle, and those who believe that everything is a miracle.

For those who "get it," no explanation is necessary; for those who don't get it, no explanation will suffice.

Ice Cream Sundae Sunday Lunch

That's just what we had here today.... an Ice Cream Sundae Sunday Lunch. We invited six of our neighbors and told them we would be serving cold ice cream, hot waffles, and fresh whipped cream. We asked that each of them bring their favorite ice cream toppings. We told them our reason for the party was that we needed to do our part to take care of global warming. In truth, I thought this house has been too quiet for too long-- we just needed some good noise, and some good company. Plus, I had everything I needed for this ice cream party... tucked away in the closet for the past two summers now... we just never got around to having a summer party the last couple of years.

After all the rain we had here this past week, and a nearly-midnight thundershower last night, today's weather was broiling hot and blindingly sunny--- perfect ice cream weather.

We drove downtown to Hank's Ice Cream yesterday to buy Mr. Hank's most delicious flavors. Actually, all his flavors are delicious, so we just picked the ones we thought would be good for the party. We had to get chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry, of course.... then we picked Sweet Cream, Rum, and Butter Pecan. I talked my husband into getting two pints of the chocolate, and he got two pints of the Sweet Cream, and then just one pint of the other flavors. Which gave us four quarts of ice cream. Much too much-- my husband was right..... but I wanted to make sure we had more than enough, rather than who wants the last scoop of chocolate?

I found thick Belgium waffles in Kroger, so I toasted them up just before our friends got here, then kept them warm in the oven. I also had two kinds of ice cream cones (the ones that taste like sugar wafers, and the thicker waffle-design cones), plus little bowls made out of the waffle cone batter--- again, way too much. Only one of the waffle bowls was eaten, and none of the cones.

Everyone either had their ice cream on top of the warm waffles, or they made sundaes with different flavors and a mixture of the toppings. Some of the toppings were--- blueberries, tiny chunks of pineapple, peanuts, walnuts, cashews, homemade "Rocky Road" with chocolate sauce and tiny marshmallows and nuts, butterscotch syrup, maple syrup, pineapple syrup, hot fudge syrup, M&Ms, chocolate-covered raisins, chocolate-covered sunflower seeds, shredded coconut, chocolate sprinkles, sliced bananas, and sweet red cherries (the bright red ones with their stems on that are sold in jars brimming with cherry juice). To go with all of that sugar, I made Chock Full of Nuts coffee (not decaf).

I set up the ice cream, waffles, and toppings buffet on a table in the living room, and everyone fixed their own calorie-free (not) concoction. I misjudged everyone appetite... so we have a lot of ice cream left over. I really thought our friends would try a couple of different flavors on the small cones, but everyone seemed to stick with their favorite standard flavors, and just took a tiny taste of the newer ones, like the Rum and the Sweet Cream. Me included.... my flavor of choice is and always has been chocolate.... but I sprinkled mine with fresh blueberries, pineapple chunks and crushed cashews. And my one small scoop of chocolate on top of that thick waffle was more than enough.

I had found everything for this party by accident... ice cream books, ice cream parlor invitations, ice cream cone ornaments, colored plastic tiny-taste spoons, napkins with ice cream designs, large colorful ceramic ice cream soda glasses-- whenever I came across something that would go with this kind of party, I kept putting them on a shelf in the party closet and before I knew it, everything was there and waiting. All we really had to buy was the ice cream and a few toppings. It took me less than a week to get everyone and everything together for this afternoon. We limited the number of friends to the number of party accessories and favors that I had, but with all the glassware (ice cream dishes) that I have, we could have invited everyone in the Charades group.

I told my husband that we have enough ice cream and toppings left over to have another party. But it's nearly 6:30 as I'm typing... the kitchen and dining room are cleaned up and back in order, so I don't think there will be another party right away.

For place cards, I used blown-glass ornaments in the shape of ice cream-filled cones-- one of those for each of the ladies. For the favors, everyone got to pick either a book about ice cream (either trivia or recipes), or large ice cream soda glasses with colorful swirling straws. My husband made up a word "Jumble" for everyone to figure out, similar to the Jumbles that are in the newspaper every day--- Why did the ice cream truck get a flat? ---Too much "Rocky Road."

We all had a nice time.... it was a good, cool way to spend a few hours on a hot Sunday afternoon. Everyone who was here was asking about our annual Halloween party--- Are we having it? What should they wear? What should they bring?

We told them all to start thinking about their costumes... Halloween is just a heartbeat away. And of course we're having our Halloween party. Boo!

The Puddle Parade

We are having typical Texas weather this week: if you don't like what's up in the sky or falling down from it, just wait a few minutes and you will see something different. We are also having a cold snap, to quote one of the more sarcastic weathermen-- the temperature has dropped from 103 to 87 in the last day or so. (Oh my.... let me get my sweater.)

The Houston area is being hit left and right with thunderstorms this week. One minute, the sun will be broiling hot and you need your sunglasses to go out and get the mail, but if you stay too long talking to the mailman, you'll be drenched in a downpour that sounds like a freight train rumbling across Highway 3 on loose tracks.

The rain comes smack in the middle of the day... and damn those weathermen for interrupting Oprah to tell us It's raining in the 610 Loop, folks, so have y'all's umbrelellas handy! -- and that's not a typo... that's how some people here say the word umbrella. Then the Powers That Be on Channel 2 will show a video of all the cars getting stuck in thigh-high water in the streets of downtown Houston--- the very same streets that get flooded each and every time the sky opens up. (Can they just send all of that video to Mayor White, and leave the rest of us alone?)

The rainstorms will also surprise us in the middle of the night, around three o'clock in the morning when the cats are sound asleep on the screen porch till that first thunderbolt lights up the sky. A split second later, Mickey Kitty is screaming his little meowing-lungs out, begging to be let into the house. I can't open the door fast enough for him, no matter how quickly I get out of bed and stumble to the breakfast room, hoping that I don't fall over Gracie along the way. (We need to have a light-up collar for that dog... a mostly black dog sleeping in a dark house must be a fire hazard or something.) As soon as I open the door a crack, Mickey Kitty is up against it, pushing it with his front paws-- I have to take a quick step backwards so the door doesn't smash me in the knees, all the while trying to be careful not to step on that little cat.

Of course, if you let in one cat, you can't keep the other two out there in the thunder, with the rain making all that racket on the roof of the screen-porch. So in comes ShadowBaby (which now, along with Mickey Kitty and Gracie) makes three black pets in the middle of a dark house. Three ways to kill yourself as you navigate around the house while you're still half-asleep.

AngelBoy comes in as well.... he's afraid of thunder, afraid of the rain..... and I'm always afraid that he's going to find a spot in the house that doesn't have a litter box in it. So into the laundry room he goes-- the "time out room" for naughty pets.

By the time all this happens, Gracie is awake and is standing by the front door with those eyes that say "Please, please let me go outside on the grass." So out we go--- I have to go with her, to make sure she doesn't chase after a raccoon while she's out there. When we come in, after the jolt of rain-soaked air and the sounds of 187 happy frogs, Gracie goes back to sleep but I am wide awake and the cats are meowing because they think their morning has begun and they're looking for their can of Fancy Feast.

And this same story gets repeated every time we have thunder and rainstorms, and my nights become sleep-deprived. When the day breaks, I can see the same three low spots in the backyard are filled up with water so it looks like we have three small ponds out there. One of these days, I'm going to buy that plastic bags of small yellow bath ducks that they sell in the Dollar Store.... and when it rains, I'm going to go out in the yard and release the flock so they can smile ridiculously with their little orange beaks.

As for the Puddle Parade..... I look forward to our down-the-street neighbor and their three young ones, who just love the rainstorms because the part of the street nearest to the curb gets filled with water when the rain falls faster than it can flow down into the drainage ditches. Out the three children will come, with either their mother or their father--- each child is wearing high rubber boots, each one holding a colorful umbrella (the littlest one has an umbrella shaped like the head of a penguin). They begin their parade down at their end of our cul de sac, sloshing and splashing and laughing and giggling as they make their way towards the corner, not caring a bit that their clothes are getting splattered with both the rain and the puddle water, not caring that their hair is getting soaked because they're laughing so hard they can't hold the umbrellas straight up.

The best part--- neither one of their parents care that the kids are getting wet, and neither parent thinks that this Puddle Parade is a waste of time. Those kids are now about six, three, and two years old. They will probably remember their walks through these puddles for the rest of their lives. And maybe that's really the best part.

Crawfish Stuffed Avocado.

I don't know which food is more popular down here... crawfish tails or avocados. Between the countless seafood restaurants and all the Mexican restaurants, both food groups are always in demand.

We went to a Kemah waterfront restaurant a few months ago, and one of the dishes on their menu consisted of crawfish tails in a tomato-based cheese sauce poured over lightly breaded and fried avocado halves. They served it with garlic bread, which I didn't eat because that particular restaurant always has the freshest of fish but the cheapest of breads. (I'm sorry, but unless the breads are homemade, southern Texas restaurants just don't have the greatest breads.)

When we went back to that restaurant to get that particular dish again, they had taken if off of the menu. What?! They offered to make it for us, then couldn't because the avocados they had in the kitchen were either too ripe or not ripe enough. The dishes that we did order that day weren't so great, and we've not been back there since.

I have, however, managed to make the Crawfish Stuffed Avocado dish. As with all these restaurant recipes, if you sit there and examine what's in them, you can sometimes figure out how they're made. It's just food, not rocket science. And if it doesn't come out right, so what? It's not your last meal.... although, you never know.

The crawfish tails were in a tomato-based cream sauce with onions.... I make a basic roux with butter, milk and flour-- but first, I sauted diced onions and garlic in the butter before adding the cheese to really thicken it. I don't know the measurements.... I just used a two-quart saucepan and judged the amounts according to the size of the pot. As for the cheese--- sometimes it was Swiss, other times it was Jarlsburg.

When the cream sauce was nice and thick, I added about a third of a regular-sized can of Campbell's low-sodium tomato soup, along with two tablespoons of picante sauce (also a staple down here), and a little over a teaspoon of Old Bay seasoning (lots of spices in there to shake up the crawfish).

Then the crawfish tails.... they sell the tails in a frozen one-pound package. Once you thaw it out, you squeeze out the excess water and add the crawfish into the very thick bisque-like mixture. Heat that through and taste it to see if it needs more picante sauce or more Old Bay. (Be careful with the Old Bay-- it has a kick to it that doesn't start kicking till after you've swallowed.)

The avocados have to be firm, but ripe enough so they're not too hard. (Avocado is such a picky fruit. If they're too soft, they'll get mushy; if they're too hard, they will have the consistency of a fresh coconut.) You slice them lengthwise, take out the pit (resist the urge to plant it) and then cover them with just a little bit of very fine breadcrumbs. Into one of my cast iron pans goes a tiny dab of butter, then each side of the avocado gets browned lightly. (While this is happening, the crawfish mixture is getting thicker, bubbly and hot and if you have cats, now is the time to put them on your screen-porch.)

Onto a plate goes one of two of the avocado halves, with the pit-less part facing up. Pour the hot crawfish mixture on top of the avocado, and if you have fresh-baked rolls, bread-machine bread, or very good garlic bread, add a slice of that for dipping. (If all you have is supermarket-style Italian bread that an Italian has never laid hands or eyes on, forget the bread.)


I decided to write this recipe down because it's been a while since I've made it, and this afternoon as I was about to defrost the crawfish, I stood there in my kitchen looking out the window at the rain trying to remember how I made this dish the last time. It's too bad that the waterfront restaurant took this off of their menu, but that's okay. Mine is better, because I've eliminated most of the fats, and I just lightly brown the avocado instead of deep-frying it, which saves even more calories. This sounds like a weird recipe, but the taste of the avocado with the crawfish mixture is really good. I would imagine, if you live in a part of the country where crawfish aren't available, you could make this recipe with shrimp. But the crawfish are cuter.

Summer of Joey.

Every summer brings one special puppy to the Greenbelt..... the large park area surrounding the bayou that runs down the center of our subdivision. I've been walking the trail around the Greenbelt every evening for the past few months now, sometimes by myself, other times with V next door. On some nights, the Greenbelt is sprinkled with just walkers and joggers. On other nights, there are skate-boarders and bicyclists competing for space on the three-foot-wide walking path.

No matter the traffic pattern, the Greenbelt gives everyone an opportunity to see who and what's new in the neighborhood as you walk the path around the pool and tennis courts, the soccer fields and the basketball court, the playground and the gazebos. Most importantly, you can meet everyone's dog, being that the Greenbelt is the place to be if you have a four-legged kid.

And that brings me back to the special puppy named Joey. Every summer on the Greenbelt brings out the new puppies, and this is definitely the Summer of Joey. He is a bright and happy Border Collie, mostly white with large black splotches artfully arranged all over his cute little puppy fur. Joey is friendly and playful, as all puppies are, but there's just something about this little ball of black and white fur that makes everyone want to go out and get a puppy of their own.

Us included. Looking at little Joey, I can forget all the middle-of-the-night trips into the backyard with our own Gracie. I would be out there with a flashlight, so the overhead spotlights wouldn't disturb the neighbors at three o'clock in the morning. And can I really forget all the times Gracie would chase our cats from one end of the living room to the other..... around and around the sofa like a four-footed car race. And the endless hours of puppy-training.... Sit, Gracie, sit! Stay... stay... good girl! For the longest time, I believed Gracie would think her real name was "No Gracie No."

As I said, watching little Joey romp in the grass and dance around your legs makes you forget all the aggravating puppy stuff that you go through with a twelve-week-old Border Collie, who has more energy than you can ever hope to contain and control and you just count the hours till you're back at the dog trainer's and he's teaching you how to keep your cute little bundle of fur from making the cats go flying over the sofa so they can jump on top of the buffet and you're keeping your fingers crossed each time that they don't send the antique lamp crashing down to the floor.

No matter how much we love to see little Joey in the park (and he seems to recognize us now) we will not (will not, will not, will NOT) look for another Border Collie puppy. Gracie wouldn't be happy with another dog in this house anyway. She's a one-dog dog, and we already know that. And it took her just a little more than a year to quit chasing the cats, and now she's very protective of them and lets them cuddle up to her and the only time she'll try and "herd" them is when she sees them getting too close to the front door. Somehow, she knows that the cats aren't allowed outside the house.

This is Joey's first summer. He is the cutest, friendliest puppy... the star of the Greenbelt. His family consists of two parents, a little girl about 6 years old, and a three-year-old boy. They walk around part of the Greenbelt every night with Joey, stopping at the park so the kids can play on the swings, then making their way very very slowly towards home because every single person on the Greenbelt just has to stop in their tracks and bend down close to Joey and tell him what a cute, adorable, happy, sweet, precious puppy he truly is.

And little Joey is eating this all up. His tail wags, his mouth opens up in a drooly, toothy smile, his eyes look at you as if you're the light of his little puppy-life... as if he's never seen anything or anybody more interesting than you are, and you go home wanting to get a new puppy of your own because the little puppy-light in Joey's eyes reminds you of the puppy-days with Gracie.

We will not, will not, will not, will NOT get another puppy.

The storm that wasn't and the frog that is.

We never did get the storm that was headed our way last week. A few of our neighbors had evacuated, but most of us just stayed right here. Of course, had the storm hit hard, we would have been wishing we were anywhere but here. As it was, when our neighbors drove into their driveway and saw just a few small tree branches scattered on their lawns, we were telling them that they wasted their time and their gas for the two-hour drive north. Hind-sight is a wonderful thing.

Hurricane season is here to stay, at least until late October or early November. I'm sure we'll have a few more scares, with weathermen listing the wind velocities and rainfall measurements while standing on the seawall in Galveston.

The little frog who has been living underneath our flowerbed near the front walkway is still there. I was worried about him during all the heavy rain we had. I thought his little kingdom (frogdom?) would get water-logged at best, or flooded-out at worst, but he seems to be just fine. He crawled out of his little cave earlier this evening and hopped into the flowerbed near the drainpipe. Was he looking for water? Do I have to put a little water dish out there for him? Just what I need-- another little mouth to feed, another pet to worry about.

Our gardeners came and trimmed the bushes and shrubs out front when we weren't home one day last week. Now everything looks too neat and too tidy, as if the leaves are standing at attention instead of dancing on the wind. I hate when they do that. I had asked them to just weed the flowerbeds, not march through the shrubbery with every power-tool in their arsenal. It's not easy to communicate with the gardeners. I will either have to learn more Spanish, or they have to learn more English.

How do you say "Just pull out the weeds and be careful of my frog!!!" in Spanish?

There's a Buddha in my shower....

We're waiting for Tropical Storm Edouard to find its way to Galveston Island. We're hoping, of course, that Edouard finds another path, hopefully over water, not land. The Powers That Be suggested that residents of the west end of Galveston should make their way to the east side of the Island. Well, that makes no sense to me.

With only one bridge going over to that Island, if the storm proves to be a hurricane instead of a tropical storm, no matter which end of the Island you're on isn't going to be the right end. I've been on Galveston Island during storms, and the only thing to do as soon as a storm starts is to get into your car and drive out of there and get back on the mainland.

Our next-door neighbors have already left... they're on their way to a cousin's home in Conroe, two hours north of here. Now that we no longer have our lake house, we don't have a secondary destination in times of evacuations. Finding a pet-friendly hotel which will take both of us plus one dog and three cats would not be so easy.

I was on the phone with my cousin L this afternoon. She asked me what important things we would take in case we had to make an emergency evacuation. I told L the same thing I told my husband two years ago when we had to evacuate for Hurricane Rita--- "If it isn't breathing, then it doesn't have to go into the car with us." Our friend J filled up his car with every piece in his collection of vintage porcelains when he left before Hurricane Rita. The last thing I would worry about before a storm comes would be a lifeless chunk of decorative porcelain.... our dog and our cats would always be on the must-take list.

With the threat of high winds on the way tonight, I put the lawn furniture into the garage so it wouldn't blow into the screens of the back porch. My husband suggested we bring in the large Buddha statue that's always on our front porch. It isn't that the Buddha is priceless--- I found him years ago for just a dollar at a yard sale-- but we do like him, and he has a wonderfully happy face. He makes our friends smile when they come up to our front door, and he has always been "dressed" appropriately for all of our parties.

When my husband carried him into the foyer this afternoon, I realized that the poor Buddha was covered in dust-- a result of the lawn guys who aim those noisy blowers at everything in sight except the sidewalks. I tried to dust off the Buddha statue with a rag but that was taking much too long. I decided to put Buddha into the shower and let the warm water send all that dust right down the drain.

So right now as I type, there's a three-foot-tall green Buddha standing in the shower... and Mickey Kitty is standing in the middle of the dressing room, afraid to get too close to the shower, but too curious to take his eyes away from the dripping Buddha.