Can't sleep...

...and it's three o'clock in the morning.

So... what's new?

I found a new website called "The Literature Network."  You can put in a title or an author's name and out pops all the information you need to know, and then some.  I was recently looking for books by Booth Tarkington... and read that two of his novels won Pulitzer prizes. And I had no idea that one of those novels ("Alice Adams") had been made into a movie starring Katherine Hepburn.

When we went to Walmart this afternoon, I bought a cat toy by a company called Smarty Kat (I do so hate it when the English language is mangled with totally ridiculous misspellings). The toy is called "Hot Pursuit" and I discovered it at a friend's house this week. She told us all that her cat loves that toy so much that he's already worn one out and she had to replace it. Of course, after that endorsement, how could I not buy one for our inside cat Sweet Pea?

This toy has a little round battery-powered motor in the center of it which controls a plastic wand that revolves around the motor like a clock-hand. The wand itself is mostly hidden under fabric (also round so it covers the motor).... the wand goes round and round with just a couple of inches sticking out from under the fabric, the cat goes nuts trying to catch it.  Two attachments came with the toy..... one with colored feathers at the end of the wand, and the other with just a red plastic tip on the end.  Sweet Pea quickly learned how to detach the feathered wand, and he proudly brought it to my husband to show him his prize.  I re-attached the plain wand to the toy and that one was harder for Sweet Pea to pull off the motor.  I can already see that the money spent on Hot Pursuit was well spent, and Sweet Pea will be entertained for hours a day...... after his initial adventure with the new toy this afternoon, he slept for three hours. Actually, he would do that anyway, with or without the toy.

It is three-thirty in the morning..... this is crazy. I need to get some sleep.

Oh, to be a fly on the wall...

And that's what I had yesterday... a fly on the walls of the kitchen, all day long.. flying from one side of the kitchen to the other for hours on end.  Out came the fly-swatter, but I just couldn't get it.... each time I got within swatting distance of that fly, off he would go to another part of the kitchen.  Even Sweet Pea gave up trying to catch the fly, and if there's one thing that Sweet Pea likes, it's a challenge.  That stupid fly proved to be too much of a contest for the cat.

While I was cooking dinner, the fly was nowhere in sight, so I thought either Sweet Pea had finally caught him or the fly managed to get back outside when we had the back door open. All night long, we didn't see that fly or hear him buzzing... until my husband said he was going upstairs to use his computer.

It was at that point that he decided that a glass of milk and a cookie or two would be nice.  Onto the counter went a cold glass of milk, out came the package of European cookies that we discovered at the supermarket.... and no sooner had my husband opened up the distinctive-sounding cookie package... up on the counter jumped Sweet Pea, who has decided that he likes sharing European cookies with my husband. So there's the two of them... both munching away on cookies... and that's when the fly landed on the counter right behind Sweet Pea.

The fly swatter was in the kitchen, within an arm's length of where my cookie-less self was standing. Without saying a word, and trying not to move too quickly so the fly wouldn't escape.... I grabbed the fly swatter and BAM!! --- the swatter landed right on top of that fly and I got him. Finally.

However... I guess Sweet Pea hadn't ever seen a fly swatter before, nor did he realize that the loud ear-splitting sound behind him was just me hitting a fly with a piece of plastic........ so there went Sweet Pea, at break-neck speed, jumping off the counter, which sent the glass of milk sailing towards the tile floor.

The glass was vintage candlewick, very thin.... which shattered into seven million pieces on the hard tiles... and there was my husband, barefoot, standing in the midst of all that glass. Sweet Pea was nowhere to be seen.... he ran into the TV room and wouldn't come out, scared to the ends of his whiskers from both the sound of the fly swatter and the breaking glass.

While my husband stood there surrounded by the glass shards, I swept them up into a glittering pile of milk-coated molecules... and then got out the vacuum cleaner, just to make sure there were no teeny tiny pieces hiding in the grout lines of the tiles, which of course there were.... we heard them going up into the vacuum cleaner.

When the kitchen was back in order and safe enough for bare feet to walk on, we both went into the TV room looking for Sweet Pea.  The poor cat was on the very top of the cat-tower, eyes wide and petrified, with his chin resting on the carpeted circle of the tower.  "Not your fault, Sweet Pea... you can come back to the kitchen...."   That cat didn't move a muscle... he just sat there staring at us with wild and wide eyes, with not a glimmer of interest in leaving his safe haven of the TV room.

This morning, Sweet Pea slowly tip-toed his paws into the kitchen, probably looking around to see if any red plastic swatters were within my reach.  My husband says Sweet Pea was just searching for the rest of his European cookie.

Downtown Austin

We drove up to Austin this week... so different from Houston. Less roadways, more traffic. The bumper-to-bumper Austin traffic seems so much worse than Houston, and no matter which highway you're driving on, there are thousands of cars either ahead of you or behind you. We spoke to a long-time Austin resident and he said that there was a old-guard segment of Austin society who didn't want that city to expand, so they kept nixing the new roadways that were proposed.  Their belief was that if not enough roads were built, people wouldn't move into Austin.

So wrong.... whoever wanted to live in Austin moved there anyway, turning the existing roads into virtual parking lots filled with slow-moving cars.  New highways have since been built, mostly by outside contractors who got the jobs done quicker than the local builders.... but the increase in population was far ahead of the new roadways, so Austin remains firmly entrenched in its own traffic madness.  And the people who complain the loudest about the current traffic problems are the old guard who didn't want the roadways built years ago. City planning gone very wrong.

While we were in Austin, we had lunch in "The Noble Pig," which is a recommendation from the Diners/Drive-Ins/Dives program on the Food Network.  Whenever we travel anywhere, my husband searches out one of Guy's favorite restaurants in his endless list of best-places-to-eat.

I was a bit skeptical when we walked into The Noble Pig.... I don't eat meat much at all, and their menu was filled with all kinds of sandwiches filled with beef, pork, and whatever other kinds of meats are available up there. I was happy to find a vegetarian option on the menu.... a sandwich similar to a "Reuben" with grilled mushrooms in place of the meat. Between the grilled mushrooms and onions, home-made sauerkraut, delicious cheese on just-baked bread.... totally delicious.

The city of Austin has a slogan which is on everything from sign-posts to tee-shirts to coffee mugs:  "Keep Austin Weird."    In my opinion, they're doing one fine job.

Downtown Houston

Free at last... free at last.... free from all things crawling, flying, slithering.

We drove into Houston yesterday.... I put on my city clothes, which haven't come out of the closet in too long a time, and we left early in the morning.  My husband and I went to the Science Museum..... they had a special film on D-Day and the Normandy invasion, and then we also saw a special display of Italian jewelry made by Bulgari.

The museum was crowded with kids on field trips, each class wearing different colored tee-shirts... nice to see that kids are interested in museum trips. (And not one child was holding a cell phone or a video game.)

The Bulgari exhibit was hushed and very quiet, all the jewelry displayed in glass cases in a series of very dark rooms. Wonderful examples of hand-made, one-of-a-kind jewelry creations. The museum had set up two small rooms within the display area, one room showing a movie montage of celebrities wearing Bulgari collections, and the other room's movie showing how the pieces are created and designed.

We haven't been to that museum in five years, which is ridiculous, because we used to go there once or twice a month when we lived closer to Houston.  They've changed the grounds outside the museum... what used to be a huge parking area is now being turned into beautiful gardens. So parking in the museum garage is a must-do now.  While we were there, we joined the museum as members, to get discounts on events, and even discounts on the parking.  My husband was thrilled with the discounts... I was thrilled that we joined because now I know we'll keep going back.  It takes an hour and thirty minutes to drive from here to there.... certainly not too long a trip for a bit of culture and city-life.

After the museums of London, where each had such a beautiful cafe with gourmet-quality foods, we were sad to see that the Science Museum still offers just McDonald's as a food choice. (Sorry, McDonald's, but I'm not at all interested in your foods.)  We found a "Dim Sum" Chinese restaurant for lunch, in the Rice Village district of Houston..... and then before driving back up to the Hill Country, we went to our favorite Houston Greek restaurant (Niko Nikos) and came back with home-made dinners that will last a few days.

Granted, the traffic within the city of Houston is horrible:  road construction here, detours there, bumper-to-bumper traffic over there, parking restrictions here.... absolutely horrible.  But the city of Houston has a plethora of ethnic restaurants offering delicious foods from all corners of the globe... their museums and theaters are first-rate (except for the lack of quality cafes in the museums).... but a dose of culture and city-life every once in a while is certainly worth the traffic nonsense.

Reading... reading...

I've been busy reading "Angela's Ashes," by Frank McCourt.  This is my third attempt at reading this Pulitzer-prize winning book.... not because of the story, but because I couldn't at first look beyond the writing style. Once I did that, I immediately became saturated with the story, and I'm holding myself back from reading it too fast because I want to read every syllable, every word, every nuance.

When I was growing up, there was an Irish family living in the house next door to my grandparents. In a neighborhood filled with Italian and German families, those neighbors with their three little boys were a welcome surprise to all the kids. Finally! Someone different! We were all excited to meet them.

The three Irish boys just loved my grandmother.... each time Grandma looked at those boys, she would tell them "You boys too thin! Too thin!"  (She pronounced thin as "tin" with her Italian accent.)  When my grandmother cooked, those three boys would sit in her driveway, right outside the kitchen window. The boys told us kids that they loved all the 'strange smells' coming from the window.

My grandmother had no idea the boys were sitting out there till one of my cousins happened to mention it. The look on Grandma's face was one of disbelief........ she got up from her chair, looked out the window, and there were the three Irish boys, just sitting there quietly listening to our family as we talked and ate. Grandma went to the stove and dished out three bowls of macaroni and meat.... called the boys to the back door and gave them the food. "Be careful with my dishes. Go home and eat and bring the dishes back when you're done."

The three Irish boys ate well for all the years they lived next door to my grandparents. Grandma seemed pleased that the boys weren't "too thin" anymore, and they never so much as chipped one of my grandmother's delicate plates.  My grandmother would whisper.... "Those Irish mothers... they don't know how to cook."  Grandma once offered to teach the boys' mother to make sauce and macaroni and meatballs, but their mother didn't want to learn. She told my grandmother "I have three boys--- who has time to cook?" My grandmother didn't mention that she herself had 12 children, and there was always time to cook.

I have an old photo tucked away into a childhood album... the picture is of myself and my cousin R, along with the three Irish boys. I've long since forgotten the names of the boys, but my cousins still talk about that family. Before they moved away, the three boys came to my grandmother's back door to thank her for all of the food and they cried in my grandmother's arms before they said good-bye.

As I read "Angela's Ashes," I can't help but think about growing up in the 1950s, and those three Irish boys who loved everything that came out of my grandmother's kitchen.  This is a wonderful book... a heart-warming and heart-wrenching story that will have you shaking your head with pity on some pages and laughing out loud on others.

Happy 101

Today is my Aunt Dolly's birthday..... she is 101.  I called her this morning to say hello and wish her a Happy Birthday, and she sounds great. Full of life, full of news about what's happening down in Florida with my cousins there, and every third sentence was "When are you coming to see me?"

If Aunt Dolly's hearing was as excellent as her enthusiasm, these weekly phone calls to her would be a lot easier.  As it was today, my cousin S was having to repeat my questions to her after I asked them..... she can hear much better in person than over the phone.  Anyone who calls Aunt Dolly has to practically yell at the top of their lungs in order to be understood, so my cousin S easily heard everything I said to my aunt, and he was sitting there just repeating mostly everything to her.

I used to stand on the back porch when I called my aunt, thinking that the reception would be better outside than inside, making it easier for her to understand me. That theory only resulted in my voice traveling through half of the hills, giving my neighbors a word-by-word echo of my conversations with Aunt Dolly.

Now I call Aunt Dolly from the second floor of our house... I stand in the hallway and yell at the top of my lungs.... and somehow it all works.  Aunt Dolly wants me and my husband to come and see her...... "And bring the rest of the family with you," she told me.  Well, if we could get 'the rest' of the family on planes from 'the rest' of the country, we could all have a nice reunion in the state of Florida. We tried that for her 100th birthday, but only a few of my cousins were willing and able to make the trip with us.

101 years old. Good for Aunt Dolly. Good for us. We should all be so very lucky, and so very healthy, at 101 years of age.

Hope.

"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without words, and never stops at all."       ...Emily Dickinson


I love that quote.... I've typed it in here before, but it bears repeating.