"It's midnight in New York City..."

New Year's Eve in NYC means the ball "dropping" in Times Square, Dick Clark counting down the last seconds before the ball drops, and sidewalk-to-sidewalk (and then some) crowds filling up the downtown streets of The Big Apple. (Do they still call it The Big Apple?)

And when it's midnight in NYC, we celebrate New Year's Eve right here. Downtown Houston has a New Year's celebration and street party, complete with music and fireworks, but (with apologies to Houston) they just don't do New Year's Eve like New York. It's the same on Thanksgiving with the Macy's parade.... no one does it better than Macy's.

So even though it's not yet 11:30 here in our little corner of the Hill Country of Texas, we feel as if we're already into 2011 because Dick Clark said so.

When I was a little kid, we would watch Guy Lombardo and his orchestra, live on TV from the NY Waldorf-Astoria Hotel. They would show the restaurant tables filled with people wearing paper hats with their diamond jewelry and their extravagant evening clothes. The band played on, the couples danced, and if I was at my grandmother's house, my Aunt Dolly and I would pick out the best ball-gowns and the most sparkling diamond necklaces. At midnight, after Guy Lombardo's band played Auld Lang Syne, Aunt Dolly would go into the kitchen and get little fancy glass cups with a scoop of ice cream for each of us.

Happy New Year..... to my Aunt Dolly, who will be 98 this summer. I don't think she waits up till midnight anymore. Come to think of it, I think she stopped doing that after Guy Lombardo passed away.

"It's midnight in Paris..."

When it's five o'clock in the evening here, it's midnight in Paris, France. And at 5:00 this evening, we were at the home of our new friends H & K, along with a bunch of their friends.... and we were toasting the New Year. H invited us there for an impromptu New Year's Eve party.... she wanted to get together with friends, but didn't want to stay up till midnight-- and a lot of her friends don't like driving on the dark and winding country roads after dark (no street lights, and the roads are pitch-black).

So H came up with a last-minute idea yesterday-- to have a New Year's Eve party at her house, with everyone arriving at 4:00, and toasting the (Paris) New Year one hour later at 5:00. It was a lot of fun.... we met some very nice people there, and both my husband and I said the same thing to each other as we were driving home: Now we can have our parties again--- we just met a bunch of party-people like we knew in Clear Lake. Taa-daaaahhhhhh!!!

Here's to another year..... I hope it's a good one for us all....... and it will be, because every moment is a miracle.

Post-Christmas Tea & Plum Pudding

On our dining room table this afternoon were three separate plum puddings: one made by my husband, one made by a British woman named H that my husband met at the Farmers' Market, and one brought back from India, where H and her husband K traveled for the wedding of a friend.

My husband met H at the Farmers' Market a while back.... she sells homemade soups there, and she caught his attention because of her British accent, and she also reminded my husband of our dear friend Frankie. My husband and H got to talking about plum pudding..... he told her about his recipe, she told him about hers, and my husband convinced her that baking a pudding was the thing she needed to do for the holidays.

H told me that my husband wouldn't take no for an answer, even though she and her husband were set to fly to India for the wedding. The result-- H did indeed make the pudding before they left, then gave it to a friend of hers with strict instructions for adding spoonfuls of cognac to the pudding every day for a certain number of days. When they returned from India, the pudding was cognac-soaked and ready for tasting. (My husband's recipe omits the liquour and the suet.)

The plum pudding taste-testing was today, both H's recipe and my husband's, along with the boxed plum pudding from India (a throw-back recipe left over from British rule in that country, H said). Of course, the India plum pudding couldn't hold a candle to the other two, and of course I think my husband's plum pudding was the best of the three. (It's those fresh plums from our trees (that I froze in the Spring) that made all the difference with this year's pudding.)

I have to agree with my husband... H does indeed remind me of our friend Frankie. H's husband K is Texas-born and bred, and they were both a pleasure to meet. A simple tea turned into a two-and-a-half-hour conversation, talking about everything from plum pudding to British authors, from growing flowers to the re-building of London after WWII. As they were getting ready to leave this afternoon, H told me that she was so happy that my husband "picked her up at the Farmers' Market."

We will definitely invite them back... for lunch or dinner, and of course for tea. My husband talked about having a Valentine's Dinner with H and K, and also inviting our friends/neighbors J & J.... we think they will enjoy H & K's company also.

For today's visit, I dressed up the dining room table as if the Queen were coming for tea, making sure that everything was more than 'just right,' being that H is British where Tea is The Thing and serving tea must be done just so. As I was setting the table, I was thinking about all the books I have on English tea-times.

Wonderful afternoon with new friends. Tea may be The Thing in England, but my husband's plum pudding is The Thing in this house, especially at Christmas.

End of cold snap...

... beginning of cloudy snap.

We've just gone through three days of winter-y weather.... temperatures dropping to the mid-thirties during the night and not rising much over 50 degrees during the day. Yuckeroo to all of that. The cold snap has snapped itself out now, and we're back into 60-something degrees, but the sun is nowhere to be found so it feels a bit colder. When one gets used to really high temperatures, anything below 65 has you layering on sweaters.

Neighbors J & J came over last night for tea and cake, and we played "Shanghai," their favorite card game. With four players, you use two decks of cards-- a lot of cards to shuffle. J & J are so into this game of cards that they're shopping on-line for a good automatic shuffler. I guess they didn't put that particular item on their wish list for Santa this year.

My cousin's son in Chicago sent me a little video eMail this morning, wishing me a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year..... the video was half talking, half singing and was very cute. I'm amazed at the technological skills of a ten-yr-old. If someone gave me the equipment and told me to make a video and then get it on my computer, I wouldn't know how to do it. I should ask my ten-yr-old cousin to teach me how to use the mysterious little buttons on my cell phone.

I'm looking out my window here and the sky is gray-ish white. Reminds me of a NY sky in winter, either after a snow-fall or just before. We know one thing for sure... clouds over this sky aren't holding snowflakes. Been there, done that... we did have some snow here last year, which lasted all of an hour. Mostly everyone in this town who has lived here all their lives said the same thing-- it was their first time seeing snow falling from this part of the Hill Country sky.

The baby goats are crying in the fields across the road. That particular neighbor always has a bunch of goats (a flock? a herd? a group?). He raises them for the meat. I'm guessing that they had a feast of goat meat for their holiday dinners... and now the baby goats are crying and searching the field for the momma goats. I just cannot get used to the sadness with the animals here in the hills. At one time or another, there are either momma cows crying and searching for their calves, or baby goats crying out for their mothers. Can't everyone just eat vegetables, for goodness sakes?!?!?!?!

One of the Beverley Nichols books I recently read was one of his children's books-- "The Tree That Sat Down." It was a book-length lesson in the lives of the animals of the forest.... they all have their routines, their schedules, their likes and dislikes..... all of them have a basic daily routine that goes on without change, until man intervenes. And then their animal world is turned upside-down and they must renegotiate and relocate and make do with their interrupted circumstances.

Survival of the fittest. Bah humbug to that. It's not survival of the fittest... it's really survival of the ones with the most weapons.

Christmas Day plus one....

We drove to Houston yesterday to have Christmas dinner with our friends K & B. Even though we both love our own Christmas in our own home, it was nice to be a guest. K's table was set with vintage green glassware, vintage English china, and the most vintage salt-cellars, complete with with the delicate glass salt-spoons. I never sprinkle salt on my food, but just having that tiny green glass salt-cellar and spoon was a special treat. A salt-set was at each place setting, and I looked at it all through dinner and just enjoyed having it there. During the dinner, each of us picked up those tiny spoons and just turned it around in our fingers. They are truly vintage... at least 85 years old, probably more.

After breakfast yesterday, my husband and I opened gifts from "the NY cousins," as he calls them...... and then we opened gifts from each other when we got back from Houston. Little gifts for each of us..... we have this big old house, we are in good health, life is certainly good. What more do we need? Between the Treasure Boxes on Christmas Eve, and opening gifts on Christmas morning and then again Christmas night, the holiday seemed to not go by so quickly.

And the best gift of Christmas was just sent to me in an eMail........ my friend F in NY is going to be a grandmother in the summer. Her son J and his wife M are expecting their first child. I know that F is just beside herself and spinning with happiness for her first-born son and his wife. I held both of F's sons within hours of their births. So many years ago when her boys were born, I was hoping to have a baby of my own, but it just never happened. As the years went by, it was heart-warming to watch F's sons growing up, and I loved how they were such a great family. The best part-- they still are!

Those little boys are men now, but I still remember them both as tiny babies in my arms. And now J will soon have a tiny baby of his own. What a great Christmas gift. A Christmas surprise.

Tiny babies.... they bring with them such promise.... so much joy.... and boundless hope.

The Christmas Eve Poem....

This is the poem I made up for my husband.... very very loosely based on 'Twas The Night Before Christmas......


'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house, not a scorpion was stirring, not a bat nor a mouse.

The tools were all hung in the garage with care, in hopes they wouldn't be needed before the handyman came there.

The chickens were nestled all snug in their coop, while visions of crickets danced in their heads.

And L in her sweater and I in my cap, had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

When out in the field there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

And what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a red and black truck, along with eight reindeer!

With a tool-laden driver, so lively and grand-- I knew in a moment that it must be Wayland!

More rapid than tractors his reindeer they came, and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:

"Now Sears! Now Lowe's! Now Ace and Home Depot! On, Hardware! On, Lumber! On, Black and Decker! To the top of the porch! To the top of the roof! Now scrape away, paint away, fix away all!"

Up to the house-top with ladders he flew, with a truck full of tools and paint brushes, too!

And then in a twinkling, I heard on the porch rail... the sawing and sanding and hammering of each screw and nail.

As I drew in my head and was turning around, down the ladder Wayland came with a bound.

He was dressed all in denim from the top of his head to the toes of his feet. And his clothes were all tarnished with caulking and paint and lunch-meat.

A bundle of tools he had flung on his back... and it looked as if a hardware store was tucked in his sack!

His eyes-- how they twinkled! His dimples-- how merry! His smile went from ear to ear.... by the looks of this house, he'd have work for a whole year!

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work... and filled all the holes with putty and paint.
And lookng at my home from porch to roof, he smiled and said "A new house this ain't."

When he was done that first day, he sprang to his truck and to his team gave a whistle--- and away they all flew as he whispered "Yes sir! Yes sir! Yes sir!"

But I heard him exclaim as they drove out of sight: "Merry Christmas to all old houses on this windy cold night!"

Christmas Eve Treasure Boxes

We have started a new tradition this Christmas Eve..... actually, it was a surprise to my husband because I thought of doing this just last week after all of his holiday shopping was done. I didn't want to spring this on him at the last minute, so tonight's Christmas Eve was the 'gift' of the pretty Treasure Boxes.

Our friend V and her husband S have had this Treasure Box tradition for years and years. Both V and S have their separate Treasure Boxes, their two sons each have one, and one son is now engaged so V made his fiance her own Treasure Box. The tradition is that anyone can put a little gift into a Treasure Box. The only rule is that the gifts have to fit in the box and be small and thoughtful, not huge and extravagant.

V told me about her family's Treasure Boxes a bunch of years ago and I thought it was a nice idea but didn't 'adopt' it for our own Christmas Eves. This year, after the visit from V and S, and hearing V talk about the Treasure Boxes again, I got to thinking that it would be a really nice idea for us to do as well. (And being that we don't have our big holiday party anymore since we've moved, we just needed a new tradition in this house.) In my stash of holiday decorations, I already had the pretty boxes.... a red velvet one for my husband, a poinsettia-floral box for me..... both about the size of shoe-boxes, perfect size for a Treasure Box.

For tonight's Christmas Eve dinner, I used those boxes as the centerpiece for the table, one stacked on top of the other, with a Christmas doily on the top box to hide the Treasure Box labels with our names on them. My husband didn't have a clue as to what they were while we ate our dinner... he thought I just put together a creative centerpiece.

Of course, the Treasure Boxes had to have something inside of them....... I took a box of my favorite tea that my husband brought home when he drove through downtown Houston last week, and I put that into my Treasure Box. When I opened the box after dinner, I took out the tea and said to my husband: Look! It's my very favorite tea!!

Into my husband's Treasure Box, I put a handwritten poem that I wrote for him last week.... very loosely based on 'Twas The Night Before Christmas. I had come up with my own version of that poem for him and put it into a booklet form, all decorated-up with Christmas pictures. I had that under the tree for him to open tomorrow, but decided it was Treasure Box-worthy. (He loved the poem.... it made him laugh out loud.)

So now we have a new tradition for Christmas Eve.... Treasure Boxes.... thanks to our dear friends V and S and their limitless holiday spirit.

On this second day of winter....

...... there wasn't a drop of sunshine, and the temperature didn't get much higher than 68 degrees. Oh well...... the mid-80s of yesterday is now history.

However, I saw the news tonight and the rain-storms out west are causing major floods, cars and homes are being swallowed up by mudslides, and there seems to be no end in sight. So our weather today is just a drop in the proverbial bucket compared to what's happening on the west coast.


I had an eMail from my cousin R's son J up near Chicago.... he wanted to remind me that there are just two days till Christmas. J and his sister K have already opened their Christmas packages from me, so they have had a pre-Christmas gift day and I've received the cutest hand-written thank you cards from those kids. "The Chicago Kids," as my husband calls them.


Tomorrow, we'll be getting dinner ready for our Christmas Eve on Friday. My husband will make his famous Greek stuffing (gyro meat, feta cheese, pistachio nuts, along with the usual stuffing ingredients).... he will also do the mashed potatoes (Rofumo cheese goes into the potatoes)...... I am making salmon cakes, coated with crushed pecans and Panko crumbs. As I read that sentence, the word stuffing is just screaming out at me. In the south, no one knows the word "stuffing" unless you're talking about foam rubber that gets stuffed into a pillow-slip. The correct word here is dressing. "Dressing" goes into the turkey, or gets baked in a pan.... or in our case, my husband will make his famous Greek dressing. I will have to remember to play the CD of F's Favorite Greek music as the cooking begins.

Every December, I think about making Christmas cookies. I've been going through my cookbooks and magazines, bookmarking pages with pretty pictures of cute little cookies. Somehow, cookie-baking gets lost in the last-minute shuffle. My husband has made his (really honestly famous) English Plum Pudding, and that always takes center-stage for the holiday. I'd have to come up with a sincerely delicious cookie that could compete with the traditional Plum Pudding.

Two more days. As "The Chicago Kid" J has announced.... just two more days. When you're ten years old, two more days must seem like a month away. When you're my age, two days is a minute longer than a heart-beat. Jingle Bells.

On this first day of Winter....

... the temperature here is hovering just above 80 degrees. That is not a typo. That is eighty... eight-oh degrees. Now this is how just about every 'winter' day was when we first moved down here...... between 70 and 80 degrees throughout the months of November, December, January, and February, with a little teeny cold snap tossed in about every four to five weeks. During the first winter we were here, my winter coat was a wool blazer, with no gloves, no scarf.

Needless to say, this is a perfect day. I've just been outside in the driveway, washing my car, getting all the road-dust off of it, and it's shining like it's just new-out-of-the-box. Back into the garage it went, all nice and clean, and then I shooed out the cats and the chickens before I closed the garage doors. The chickens are very curious about everything in that garage and they walk in there whenever they see the garage door open. Come to think of it, the chickens are curious about everything, just like the cats.

Speaking of the garage...... this day should be circled on the calender...... my husband spent the entire morning and part of the afternoon cleaning out the garage, arranging and re-arranging, sorting and separating. The extra-long work-counter in there actually has a work space now. I told my husband that the next time the handyman sees the inside of that garage, he's going to turn around and walk back out because he won't know where he is.

The garage is nice and neat, tidy and clean. My husband says that his home office is next on his must-organize list. We're getting really close to Christmas. Just four more days. He must have realized that Santa is watching, making his list, checking it twice. Ho! Ho! Ho!

Christmas Tea

We invited J & J over for tea this afternoon....... a simple tea turned into an elaborate dessert buffet, so I made sure not to eat lunch before tea-time. Chocolate brownies, cinnamon-cherry coffee cake, apple-cheese rolls, and cranberry-orange scones.

I used my handmade little ribbon-bags for place card holders, each filled with gold-foil wrapped chocolates and a Christmas trivia card. On top of the bright green tablecloth, I sprinkled sparkly glittery red stars. Between all those stars, and more Christmas trivia card scattered on the table, plus the trays of desserts, and a few Santas in the center, it looked like elves had been here to turn the dining room table into a sweet DisneyLand of sugar and spice and everything nice.

J does what our friend R always used to do..... before she sits down at our dining room table, she looks at every little thing and how it's arranged, oohing and aahing over the little details and wondering how I can keep coming up with different ideas each time. I keep saying it's easy, which it is, at least for me. I just like all the fussing over the table, and I know everyone appreciates it... plus when the table looks extra-festive, then your friends feel extra-festive and a simple thing like a tea becomes a celebration, whether it's a holiday or not.

It's all in the details...... and the little details are miracles in themselves. Every moment is a miracle.


We're missing Gracie as it gets closer to Christmas. We're not talking about it much, but I have Gracie's picture with Santa in the dining room.... I gave that to my husband for Christmas one year. The local PetsMart had a Santa there one weekend, so I brought Gracie to have her photo taken with Santa. She loved it..... you could see it in her eyes, and she was smiling that big doggie-smile of hers. All the way to the store, with Gracie in the backseat of the car, I kept telling her You're having a picture taken with Santa so we can give it to daddy for Christmas. We spoke to that dog as if we were speaking to a child. And I swear, sometimes I believe she knew exactly what we were saying.

When we got to PetsMart that day, Gracie was so well-behaved..... she sat next to me as we waited on the line. Other dogs were growling and pulling at their leashes... Gracie sat there next to me, eyes straight ahead... she was watching all the cats and dogs with Santa. When it was her turn, she walked right up there, sat down next to Santa and smiled, smiled, smiled. One picture was all it took, and it was perfect.

It was the perfect gift for my husband that year. Gracie was the perfect dog. We truly miss that perfect Gracie.

Nine more days.....

Just nine more days till Christmas. Goes by so fast, every year. When Labor Day rolls around, the holidays are here in a heart-beat. (And I say that every year.)

I spoke to my cousin L last night..... she just started her Christmas shopping last week, so of course she's frazzled. Too much stress, with the cold weather and rain and snow they're having in the northeast, plus the crowded stores...... she says she's "getting too old for this" and she has absolutely no Christmas spirit this year. L told me the same thing last year, and the year before that.

My suggestion to her (for the past three years) was to put out some Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving..... and do her holiday gift-shopping in October and early November when the weather is nicer and the stores aren't crowded with pre-Thanksgiving shoppers. If she did that, by the time she sat down to eat her Thanksgiving turkey, all of her Christmas shopping would be history and she could just enjoy the holiday for a change. She told me she would do that next year. She won't. (She told me the same thing last year and the year before that.) I think she wouldn't know what to do if she wasn't stressed-out.


We have been having warm and sunny days (yesterday and the day before) interrupted by cool and cloudy days (today). It was so drippy and cloudy this morning that I didn't let the chickens out of the little yard by their coop. They weren't too happy about that, but at least they're protected from the hawks, who seem to do most of their hunting on days like this.

Little PittyPat, my pint-sized Dutch Bantam hen, has begun to lay eggs. Cute little eggs, half the size of the other hens' eggs, and the shells are a light blue/green in color. PittyPat is very proud of her eggs, and she will stand there in the nesting box looking down at her just-hatched egg for a full minute or two before she hops down and goes on with her day. I would guess that two of PittyPat's eggs would equal one of Scarlett's or Prissy's. Being that I use the oldest eggs first, I haven't cracked open one of PittyPat's eggs yet.


A few of the neighbors have begun to come by with little gifts for the holiday..... a poinsettia plant, a box of cookies. My husband has made some cookie-sized Christmas cakes from his plum pudding recipe and he will be giving those to the neighbors. We never did plan a Christmas party..... I just couldn't convince my husband (or myself, either) that a party here would be a good thing to do. I even thought about throwing together an impromptu pot-luck dinner party, but I don't like to do last-minute things, and we don't like to get last-minute invitations either. So that idea went out of my head as soon as I thought of it.

Maybe for Valentine's Day...... surely everyone would like to "wear something red and bring something sweet" in mid-February. That always worked for our friends in Clear Lake. Maybe it would work here? Gracious.... if we don't try it, we'll just never know.


As I type, the sun is coming out and the sky is turning from pale gray to a pretty blue. The chickens may be coming out of the coop after all. From my sitting room, I can hear Scarlett clucking and calling.... she is most unhappy when she can't run around the yard.

Birthday lunch.

We drove to Round Top (population 77 -- I love that!) and had lunch at Royer's Cafe today for my husband's birthday. Every Sunday is Fried Chicken Day at Royer's.... they start cooking that when they open and don't stop till they run out of chicken parts..... and they usually do because almost everyone orders the chicken on Sundays. They fry up so much chicken on Sundays that they don't serve fries-- they have to use all their fryers for the chicken parts.

Royer's is also known for their homemade pies, and instead of birthday cake here, we had apple pie at the cafe. It's a nice ride from here to there... all winding country roads going up, down, and around all the hills. Round Top is also the home of the Festival Institute, the acoustically correct music theatre.... beautiful wood carving throughout the interior, and the surrounding grounds are just magical, with all sorts of out-buildings and castle-like structures. After lunch, we drove through the Festival grounds and parked the car near the little chapel. The doors of the chapel were locked, but we walked all around the outside and found hidden waterfalls and stone tables and benches, and quiet little courtyards with medieval-looking statues keeping guard.

Cold day today..... the high temperature was about 58 degrees this afternoon. Bah humbug to that, after the nearly 80-degrees of the other day. I hate these cold snaps rushing down here from the north. We get so spoiled here with warm weather that when the thermometer doesn't climb to our usual winter temperature of 75 or so, we are downright freezing and it's so hard to get warm.

However..... that sounds like a complaint, and I had promised after last year's ridiculously frigid winter not to complain about the weather anymore. Besides that, I have to remember that great quote... every moment is a miracle. This is a moment... so it must be a miracle.

The Little Santa Band.

Our friends V and S drove up here today from Clear Lake for an early Christmas lunch. So nice to see them again. V and S lived around the corner from our old house and they came to all of our parties and invited us to theirs. Every morning when my husband walked Gracie, he would see V and her dog Beastie. Turns out that Gracie died one month to the day after Beastie died this past summer.

Out of everyone we have known since we moved here in 1993, our friend V can decorate a house for Christmas to within an inch of its holiday life. Each year, V came to see our decorations and I went to look at hers, to see who had out-Christmased the other, and (of course) to see whose ideas could be incorporated with our own. We are both proud to say that we have borrowed each other's Christmas ideas over the years.

V has a collection of Black Santas that has grown over the years into a huge community. The Santas are all over her fireplace mantel, her tables, her shelves, and she has a vintage post office cabinet near her staircase that's filled with those square postal cubby-holes... each cubby filled with a Santa or a Christmas decoration or a tiny plate or mug. V does what I do-- starts unpacking her holiday decorations right after Thanksgiving, and there's barely a spot in her home that isn't Christmased-out from one end to the other.

Every year, I try and get V a unique Santa for her collection. I was in just about every shop in this town and couldn't find V a suitable Santa to join her Santa Parade. Then I checked eBay...... sooner or later, you can find anything and everything on eBay. And there it was, tucked in among listings of your run-of-the-mill Black Santas....... a miniature Black Santa Band. Twelve Santa-musicians, each Santa holding a different instrument, each no more than 2 1/2" tall. Very detailed, very nicely made, and very very cute. The kind of gift that makes you smile, and smile big. The seller was in Indiana... the Santa Band had been in her own collection for years and years, but she was selling her holiday items because she just doesn't decorate anymore and she didn't want her prized Santas to be tucked inside boxes in her attic.

As soon as I saw that little Santa Band, I knew that V just had to have it...... and that's what I gave her for Christmas today. Twelve little Black Santas, which made V so extraordinarily happy that my face was hurting from smiling. I tried to find a little display shelf for the Santa Band, but couldn't find something Santa-worthy. What I did find, right in town, were hand-painted wooded blocks that spelled out HAPPY HOLIDAY. Twelve red and green blocks, for twelve members of V's Santa Band. How perfect was that?!

I wrapped up those boxes in gold paper and trimmed them with thick bows and stars. The boxes were so pretty that I used them as the centerpiece on the dining room table for our lunch today. Between the lunch and the dessert, I told V that she had to unwrap her gifts... first the blocks, which she set up in the middle of the table...... then she unwrapped the box with the Santa Band, set each one on top of one of the blocks. Then V started doing what I had done with the Santa Band before I wrapped them up-- arranging and re-arranging each of the musicians till they were on just the perfect block. V's husband S said that V would be "playing with that Santa Band from now till Christmas Day."

It was the perfect afternoon...... and the perfect gift. The Little Santa Band is now performing in Clear Lake.

Puppies and kittens at WalMart.

Just about every time I drive into the parking lot at WalMart, there is someone out on the grassy lawns under the trees with a crate filled with either puppies or kittens. I do my best not to look. One little look-see too many, and you are bound to go over and take a closer look, and then the next step is to pick your favorite cute little kitten or puppy. How do you walk away from those little eyes staring up at you from behind the wire bars of a crate?

As I pulled into WalMart this morning, there was yet another person selling (or giving away) puppies. Before I could avert my eyes, I saw three black puppies in a good-sized crate. My husband and I have agreed that we're not going to get another dog. Not now. Maybe not ever. Too hard to get pet-sitters out in the country. Too tied-down with a dog. Too much work with a puppy. All sorts of too-this and too-that excuses and reasons.

Into WalMart I went, not looking left or right, just straight ahead at the doors. An hour later, out I came with a cart-full of groceries. Didn't even think about the puppies. Actually, I had forgotten all about them. Into the car went the groceries.... into the cart-holder went the shopping cart. Then I turned to walk back to my car and there was that crate of puppies. Only there was just one puppy in the crate. One black puppy, facing me, with its little eyes locked right on me. Sitting there, quietly, its tail barely moving, but that puppy was absolutely looking straight at me.

I'm sorry. We can't get another dog now. We're not ready. I am not ready. Someone else will take you home.

I got into my car and put my sunglasses on, thinking they would block-out the puppy eyes that I knew were looking at me. When I pulled out of the parking spot, I went the wrong way up the aisle just so I wouldn't have to drive close to the spot where that puppy-crate was sitting under the tree.

Why do people let their dogs and cats have puppies and kittens if they're not prepared to keep the puppies and kittens?! And let's face it-- who one earth can honestly keep a litter of puppies and/or kittens in the first place?! Why on earth can't all pet-owners do the right thing?!?!?!

The right thing: Get your pets spayed/neutered! Selling puppies or giving away kittens in the WalMart parking lots isn't exactly the right thing to do, damn it!! You don't know the people who are buying or taking those puppies and kittens, damn it! You may be giving those babies to idiots who will abuse them or neglect them, damn it! And we have seen with our own eyes the abuse and neglect that puppies and kittens can go through... and in the down-country parts of this state, with the "survival of the fittest" mantra, abandoned puppies and drowned kittens don't raise many country-eyebrows, damn it!

Of course, all I keep thinking about is that one little black puppy in that crate. But it's just not the time. If it were, I wouldn't have been thinking about the work it takes to raise a puppy. I wouldn't have been worried about the lack of pet-sitters up here. If it had been the right time and the right puppy, I would have walked over to that crate, opened it up, scooped that little puppy up into my arms and said "How much?" to the damn fool who was standing by the crate.

Do The Powers That Be at WalMart know that their parking lots are turning into puppy mills and kitten factories?

Give me a blessed break. And I hope some kind and loving person came along and took that last little puppy home.... to a good home, damn it.

One more quote for the day...

My husband heard this quote as he was driving into town this morning:

"Life is a combination of freedom and destiny, and the beauty is that you don't know which is which."


It has been a good day for great quotes.

The greatest little quote...

Below the following quote that I found this morning was written "Author unknown..."

"I give thanks for this perfect day. Miracle will follow miracle, and wonders will never cease."


If one can keep everything in perspective, every day is perfect, every minute is a miracle, and every moment can be filled with wonder.

Monday cold-snap.

I thought the latest cold snap had snapped itself out. We keep hop-scotching between warm nearly-80-degree days to 40-degree nights and 58-degree afternoons. Not nice. (Hop-scotching.... now that's a phrase you don't hear much anymore. And does anyone under 50 even know what that is?)

We're late in decorating our big tree this year. We went out on Sunday afternoon to get the tree, brought it home and got it into the tree-stand and poured warm sugar-water into the bucket, and there it is.... nothing on it but Roy Rogers' gold eight-pointed star at the very top of it. (The one and only honest-to-goodness star tree-topper that sat for years on Roy and Dale's family Christmas tree.)

Tomorrow, my husband will put the lights on the tree, then I will do the ornaments, add the tree skirt (really a gold satin bedspread with fringed edging-- looks fabulous). Then we can both stand back and look at the tree and say Ta-daaaaahhhhhh!

When we got home on Sunday from tree-shopping, our Clear Lake friend V stopped by for an afternoon visit..... she and her friend K were in one of the nearby towns so they called to see if we were home. We weren't actually home, but we were on our way, and they pulled into the driveway about fifteen minutes after we did.

We talk about V all the time, saying how much we miss hearing her calling out to her cats..... she lived next door to us in Clear Lake, and my cats perked up their little ears when V sang out to her own cats every day. My blue-eyed AngelBoy, however, was the only cat who wasn't amused by V's singing... he would scrunch-up that pretty little face of his till his whiskers were nearly in knots. AngelBoy didn't like much of anything out-of-the-ordinary.

Anyway..... we knew V was on her way to our back door on Sunday because we heard her singing out to our chickens as she walked down the driveway. My husband and I were both in the kitchen when we heard her, and we laughed because we were both thinking the same thing--- V's cat songs have turned into chicken songs up here in the Hill Country. The chickens, like AngelBoy, were not amused. I should have given V some bread-bits and vegetables... then the chickens would have sat there for an entire opera's-worth of singing.

Another week here without W the handyman. He is busy doing a big flooring job and has to finish the whole job before he comes back here. My husband says he's on W-withdrawal. My husband painted some of the wood trim this afternoon...... he waited till it warmed up some, then stood in the sun out in the driveway where it was warmer.

The propane delivery truck was here this morning. With the extra insulation that W and my husband added to the house this past summer, plus all the new seals on the few windows that were letting in the air, the electric and propane bills have not been as high as last year. Everyone still talks about last year's winter and the horrible freezing days we went through that had water pipes bursting like straws. (Been there, done that.)

Oh well..... this cold snap too shall pass. I cannot complain. I saw on the news this morning that upstate NY had two feet of snow and roofs were collapsing from the weight of it all. I'm sure everyone in upstate NY would love to have 58-degree days right about now.

Saturday stuff...

The screen door that we love so much (because of its wonderful vintage-sounding squeak as it opens and closes) is now even better than before..... my husband put in new screening, and he painted it the bright happy green that W the handyman has been using to paint the wood frames of all the window-screens. My husband also added some cranberry-cherry trim around the new screening of the door. That old door looks new again, and it is positively delicious. (I'm beginning to use adjectives like Beverley Nichols.)

We've had some gorgeous days..... nearly 80 degrees during the day, dropping to 65 at night. That could all change quickly, if the weather wizards are correct. They said a cold front is coming in from the north (as if they ever come from the south?). If that happens, we'll go down to freezing during the nights, and no higher than 55 during the day. Yuckeroo to all of that. 55 degrees is just freezing.... I will be dressing in layers and hating every minute of it. (Everyone should have such infinitesimal problems.)

I spent two hours today organizing the walk-in closet where I keep gifts and wrapping paper and gift-bags. (And my husband would say For which year are you shopping now?) He can laugh all he wants...... but when it comes time for the cousins' birthdays, or Christmas, their gifts are in that closet, clearly marked, ready to be wrapped, boxed, and mailed. No last-minute shopping for me, thank you very much.

Our Miss C called me today to see what we were doing for Christmas. She wants to come here for the holiday, so it will feel like 'the old days.' Miss C is just 19..... does she really have any 'old days?' She's going to talk to her parents and see if they'll agree to spending Christmas up here in the Hill Country. We may also ask our friends K & B to join us. Usually, those two are off on one of their exotic vacations (such as Tibet) in December, but this year their trip is less exotic (Germany) and they're not leaving till March. So K & B will be in town for Santa this year and the Jolly Old Elf will not have to hire a donkey and a guide to find them in the Himalayas.

As I was organizing that closet this afternoon, I heard shotguns going off across the hills. One shot after the other.... breaks my heart, that sound, now that I know what it means. All this time, I thought someone was shooting just for target practice. (Such a city girl.) I truly had no idea that guns were being aimed at the beautiful elks and deer in the nearby game preserve. Someone should send that property owner a dictionary with the definition of the word preserve clearly marked.

My cousin F and I are already talking about the upcoming April wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton. I have sent F one of my yard sale rhinestone tiaras and told her that even if she chooses to watch that ceremony in her pajamas, she must wear that tiara. She does not think I've lost my mind...... she is a royal-watcher of the first order, and knows enough about the Royal Family to write a book or two. She has already told the rest of the family not to bother her the week before the Royal Wedding, and certainly not on the day of the April 29th wedding. F will be watching every minute of the coverage, and probably taking notes. She is already going through her cookbooks and trying to decide what foods to make ahead of time so all she has to do is re-heat and microwave during the TV coverage of the event. About the only thing that spoils the upcoming ceremony is that Camilla will be in attendance. I told my cousin F that maybe her invitation will get lost in the Royal Mail. (Not bloody likely... said F.)

The Game Preserve

Preserve nothing.

There is a so-called game preserve in our little community. I don't know how many acres are back there in the far parts of these hills, but it looks to be hundreds. We've walked by that property, and also driven by with the car, to see how far back that particular road goes. We turned around before we got to the very end of it, so it's a large spread of land.

A few days ago, one of the neighbors asked us if we heard all the gunshots coming from the preserve. We hadn't heard a sound, because that was the day we went to try and find the parts my husband needed to knock the virus out of his computer.

Apparently, that game preserve does indeed preserve the wildlife in there-- but only till the opening day of hunting season. And we're guessing that the season opened on the day we were out of town. Our neighbor told us that the guns were going off all afternoon, just one after another after another. The hunters have begun hunting.

Give me a blessed break. Hunting? As in hiding in the woods and stalking the wildlife while you're trying not to make a single sound because if they hear you, off they run into the forest. Their forest.

That's not what is happening on the game preserve, however. The wildlife is settled there... they know food and water are always ready and available, and they don't have to go foraging for their meals. They also probably know they're safe there-- the humans are feeding them all year long, not shooting at them. Until the opening of hunting season. Then safe becomes unsafe.

And then.... the humans who feed them become the humans who shoot them.

That's supposed to be a sport? Men go up onto that property where the wildlife is all fenced in, with no means of escape, and they can shoot till they have enough dead animals to decorate the walls of their family rooms with the heads?!

Men do stupid things in the name of sport.