Waldorf Wednesdays

As I spent the last few weeks planning today's tea party, I came to the conclusion that we all don't really need an 'occasion' to have a get-together.   We've had these tea parties when our friends up the road have had visiting granddaughters.... we all thought that a tea party would be a nice thing to do for the girls... something different for them to experience.

The little girls just love the tea parties.... but so do us 'big girls.'  We try different teas, we all bring a plate of little sandwiches or desserts... and we talk and laugh and enjoy each other's company.  So why not do that on a regular basis?

Welcome to Waldorf Wednesdays, beginning on August 20th.  The ladies who came to this afternoon's tea left here with invitation cards telling them about my every-Wednesday-idea for tea.  Tomorrow morning, I will hand-deliver identical cards to the rest of the neighbor-ladies in our community here.

And, me being me, I've started another blog (titled "Waldorf Wednesdays," of course)...... the link can be found by clicking on the 'View Complete Profile' line on this blog.

I'm hoping for Wednesdays filled with all the ladies in our hills here, or however many can attend on any particular Wednesday, plus new friends that we can all invite along the way... and a dining room table filled with teacups and smiles.

Wednesday Tea Party

Another tea party for J's two young granddaughters today.... and the tea parties keep getting better and better.  We all started this a few years ago now..... an idea to give the out-of-state granddaughters something different to do during their visit.  With each of the parties, the guest list grows a little longer, and the laughing get louder, and the menu gets more varied because everyone brings something to add to the afternoon buffet. We started this for the little girls, but the big girls have just as much fun.

Tea for the ladies, chocolate tea for the little girls, and tiny sandwiches and rich desserts. Plus the decorations...... "Drink Me" tags on tiny glass bottles filled with bright pink cranberry juice; "Eat Me" tags on fancy picks stuck into the sandwiches.  All we needed was the Mad Hatter to show up, along with Alice. (Johnny Depp.... where were you??)  I bought very small gold picture frames that I filled with a picture or a fancy initial for each of us, which was everyone's place-setting surprise as they found their place card around the table.

The young girls always like to play the 'tea bingo' game ("Teago," actually, which you can buy on-line), and I had books for them to pick out as prizes. Both C and J love to read, and they started looking through their storybooks minutes after choosing them. (I do love kids who read!)  Each of the tea parties has had a theme of sorts, and this time I asked everyone to wear a dangling pair of earrings or a sparkling crazy necklace.  JD wore so many Mardi Gras beads around her neck that you could barely see the blouse she was wearing. And the little girls made their own earrings from tiny colorful elastic rings.

Special gifts for all the ladies, as a thank-you for bringing goodies to add to the table... and I picked out gifts individually this time, rather than giving everyone the same party-favor. Everyone walked in with a smile, and left with a bigger smile. (Aunt Dolly would be proud.)

JAS brought along her little Bella.... a precious little Chihuahua wearing strands of pearls.  Bella, being the star of the afternoon, had her own special chair and a doggie place card, but she preferred sitting on her mama's lap so she could watch all of us. Too cute for words, that little dog, and possibly the most well-mannered Chihuahua on the planet. When Bella got bored with all of our chatter, she buried her head into JAS's arms and went to sleep.

Another great tea party, with the nicest compliment from J's granddaughter C:  "Coming to the tea party is my favorite part of visiting Texas."  Awesome kids.... and they love books!

A man on a mission...

When we drove up to Dallas a couple of weeks ago, my husband was happy (delirious) to find a New York-styled deli (The Deli News, which is a play on the title of a NYC newspaper called "The Daily News").  We had breakfast two days in a row at The Deli News, each morning loving the fresh bagels and scrambled eggs, cream cheese and lox. Before leaving Dallas, we brought home an assortment of bagels and I put them into the freezer.

One by one, out of the freezer they came, into the toaster they went, and my husband was in New York heaven because I bought smoked salmon and cream cheese at the supermarket here.  Two days ago, he had the last of the bagels.  Oh goodie, said I... time for another drive up to Dallas. (I had visions of walking around the mega Half Price bookstore again while my husband went to the deli for a bag of bagels.)

My husband searched the Internet.... surely there must be a deli in Houston that sells 'real' New York bagels. (All others need not apply, thank you.)  Well, lo and behold your bagel..... he found just the place..... New York Bagels on Hillcroft Street in downtown Houston.  And perfect timing.... my husband had to drive through Houston for meetings at his office.

The man on a bagel mission came home with a bag filled with an assortment of New York bagels. Real bagels, not just round bread with a hole in the middle. The bagels from Hillcroft Street are just as delicious as the ones from Dallas.... and just as delicious as the bagels we both enjoyed in New York. My husband is very happy (delirious).

"We won't have to drive to Dallas just for bagels anymore," said my husband.

"Does that mean I'll never see the inside of that bookstore again?" said I.

Can't sleep...

I think it's strange that when I wake up during the night and can't sleep, I don't reach for the book I'm reading.... I come into my sitting room and turn on the laptop and start typing.

So many things keeping me awake tonight..... wasps all over the yard, first of all. No matter how many nests my husband sprays and knocks down, there's always more wasps flying around and either looking for the nests that were destroyed, or they're looking for a good spot to build more nests.  Before I could get into my car this afternoon, I had to spray some wasps that were flying in the garage.

Lots of lizards in the yard these days.  I see them running on the courtyard stones or racing across the driveway, and into the flowerbeds they disappear.  I don't mind the lizards (which surprises me to no end) but after the lizards run into the flowerbeds, I can hear all these rustling noises, which makes me think the lizards have been captured by a snake hiding in the mulch. Needless to say, I don't get too close to the flowerbeds.  I haven't done much of anything in the garden this year. After all the re-planting and re-mulching that I did last year, only to have so many plants freeze during the ridiculously cold winter we had, I have no interest in 'making nice' out there in the flowerbeds. Not to mention the fact that there are just too many wasps and bees this year.

The orange cat is still around.... he's been here since December, I think.  We've tried everything, even not feeding him, but still, he stays around the yard, either on the porch or under the cottage or inside the barn. He has chosen our property, and we can't convince him otherwise.  Being that we have two outside cats (who are tolerating him) and one inside cat who stares at him from the windows, that orange cat must feel he belongs here.  We don't pet him, because he's quick to scratch, and there's no way we can trap him and get him to the shelter because he's smart enough to stay away from the catch/release cage.

I've been awake for a couple of hours now.... it's 2:00 in the morning as I'm typing. I haven't heard the sound of the train whistle since before midnight. I can tell you for sure that as soon as I get back into bed and start to fall asleep, that train is going to go along the tracks in the next town and I'm going to hear that whistle loud and clear.

More on Dallas...

We drove through a lot of very small towns during the 235-mile trip from our driveway to Dallas. During the early-morning drive, we saw scores of vultures... some much larger than the ones we've seen here on our own property. All the road-kill on those highways and back roads make great feasting for those ever-hungry birds. Ugly creatures, those vultures.

There was one property we passed that had an old VW Beetle parked in the front yard. The color of the car was a rusted red, and both the hood and trunk lid were missing, as were the wheels. The car was parked in a huge flowerbed, and the property owner had planted wild daisies and purple vines in the ground under the hood and the trunk.... the result was a perfectly blooming VW Beetle that looked very pretty. I'm sure it made everyone smile as they drove by it.

We saw an old blue barn with white trim in the town of Bedias (established in 1832).  Large white wooden letters on one side of that barn spelled out "Hooker Haven."   Heaven only knows....

In the tiniest-ever town about 70 miles south of Dallas, with one main street that wasn't even long enough to have a stop sign or a stop light, there was a liquor store with a drive-thru window. Honestly, people.... life must be really tough if you can't even get out of your truck to buy a beer.

The skyline of Dallas reminded us of the Houston skyline... two small clusters of buildings that rose up into the clouds... if you're from a tiny town in Texas, those skylines are magnificent. If you come from a city like New York or Chicago, those skylines are somewhat insignificant, but pretty, just the same.

We stayed at a small B&B... the owner had a brown and white dog named Happy. And indeed she was.... a very friendly dog who pulled a chew-toy out of her toy-box just ten seconds after meeting us. Once again, I miss having a dog in this house.

There was a Dunkin Donuts in Dallas..... a nice little surprise. We didn't stop there... we had our breakfasts at the New York-styled Deli that my husband found on the Internet.  I guess we could have brought some donuts home, but we just didn't think of it.

We're still talking about that NY deli ("The Deli News")....... such a good energy in that place, and we could tell that most of their customers were regulars. We did note that the menu prices were New York-style, but at least all the food was great and fresh.

In the town of Wylie, we ate lunch at "Taste Of Home," which is described as a "quaint country eatery" on Ballard Avenue. The cafe is an old house built in the early 1900s.... lots of rooms filled with mirrors and antiques and the food was freshly made and served on pretty plates. Wonderful place to enjoy a meal... tables both inside and outside on their wrap-around porch.

The Dallas Arboretum.... can't believe how beautiful the gardens were.... and the mansion (once belonging to the DeGolyer family) was exquisite beyond belief.  We didn't get to see all of the gardens because we got there in the middle of the afternoon, but we did tour that mansion.  I would love to go back and walk around and see more of the gardens. (I believe they have 66 acres there.)  One of the highlights that we did see--- two huge topiary peacocks with their 'tail feathers' composed of multi-colored flowers spread out on the ground behind the birds. Absolutely breath-taking.

When we left home, I had forgotten to bring the book I was reading ("Bachelor Brothers' Bed & Breakfast.")  How could I have left home without anything to read?!  I told my husband in the car that we would have to find a bookstore once we got to Dallas. Little did I know that we would find the granddaddy of all bookstores.... Half Price Books.  We had Half Price Books in Clear Lake, and there's a Half Price Books in College Station that we go to... but the store in Dallas was huge beyond belief.  And one of the first books I found there was a hardcover copy of "Bachelor Brothers' Bed & Breakfast," which was a great find because the one I had was a softcover.

Happy, happy, happy.... just like that dog in the B&B where we stayed... Happy.

Dallas

We drove up to Dallas this past weekend..... been there, done that.... and can't wait to do it again!  I don't know what took us so long to make that trip.

We went to the Dallas Arboretum (which was outstandingly beautiful, and we didn't even get to see one-third of it, so another trip there is a must-do)... the tour of the inside of the mansion on the arboretum grounds was worth the price of admission.

Through the Internet, my husband discovered In-Sync Exotics, a wildlife sanctuary specializing in cats. Lions and tigers and panthers... all rescued from people who bought them as cubs and didn't know the first thing about taking care of them. Wonderful established sanctuary... worth the trip just to see how the volunteers love those beautiful animals.... it's not far from Dallas, in the town of Wylie.

My husband found two Greek restaurants... Kosta's Cafe (old-school and delicious) and Stratos (more of a bar-scene with crazy non-Greek music).  We also ate at two Chinese restaurants... Bo Bo China and Royal China (the better of the two).  The best find was "The Deli News," a New York-style deli with New York foods (minus the attitude)... we had breakfast there two mornings in a row.

Also saw the Perot Science Museum... lots of glitz, not much substance... more of a kid's museum than an adult science museum (we were totally spoiled with the Science Museum in London back in May). Plus, the museum cafe was the typical fast-food stuff on paper plates... give me a blessed break.

The best find in Dallas.......  Half-Price Books... huge, huge, huge..... I was in book-heaven, and we went there three separate times during our three-day stay.  The store is open seven days a week, from 9:00am till 11:00pm..... books, books, books........ I searched every inch of the Clearance section and found about a dozen books to bring home. Will there ever be enough time to read all that I want to read?

We got to see friends V and B, our next-door neighbors from our old house, who have since moved to Colorado.... they were in Dallas to visit their daughter and son-in-law and their new baby.  First grandchild for V and B.... and it was nice to see them all again.  Last time we got to visit with them was at the wedding of their oldest daughter, who is now the new mom to a beautiful baby girl.  It was a bittersweet moment, holding that tiny baby.... and remembering when the baby's mom used to come to our house when she was a little girl.  We all had such fun on our old cul de sac.... and now we're all spread out from Texas to Colorado.

Great, great weekend........ fabulous restaurants, good friends, and the best bookstore.

Curiosity kills the memory...

Still looking up people on Facebook. (Quite addictive, that Facebook thing.)  I told that very fact to my computer-wizard husband and he looked at me as if I'd just recently joined the 21st century.

I did some searches on ladies I worked with at the library up in NY.  I didn't find them on Facebook, but the Internet directed me to a site which had their names listed under 'Obituaries.' Good grief. Not at all what I expected to find. (Seek and ye shall find, whether ye want to or not.)

In this case, I didn't want to find their names there.  One woman passed away last year, barely into her 84th year. Another woman made it till nearly 90.  The most surprising, and the most heart-breaking, was learning that my 'wise old Greek' library supervisor passed away at 84 years of age, and was followed shortly thereafter by her husband (whom she married just a few years before she retired from the library).

My 'wise old Greek' was our Circulation Desk Supervisor at the library, and she was much loved. When she retired, I applied for, and got, her job. Following in E's footsteps wasn't the easiest thing I've ever had to do, particularly because there were other women in that library (all older than myself) who also wanted that position. An application and a written test were required.... I scored well on the exam..... I got the job. It must have been a tough pill to swallow for the other women who had been working there longer than me, but that's how the cookie crumbled at the time.

Finding people on Facebook, or any other Internet site, has its pros and cons.  In your mind's eye, you tend to remember everyone as they were the last time you saw them. As you picture them from years ago, your mind isn't conjuring up their image as their life may appear now.... gray hair, grandchildren, retirement, or (sorry to say) gone to that big library up in the sky.

One of E's favorite sayings was "Dance alone, and you can jump as high as you like."

We reminded her of those words when she announced to us all that during her two-week vacation, she and her long-time beau had "tied the knot."

"But what happened to all that stuff about dancing alone?!" we asked her.

"It's also nice to have someone there to catch you when you fall down," she told us.

That Facebook thing...

Amazing what you can find on the Internet these days. Using Facebook, I've found old classmates from both my grammar school and high school years. Looking at their over-60-year-old faces in their Facebook photos, I can still see the younger faces of the kids I knew years ago.  Those 'kids' now have kids and grandkids of their own, for goodness sake.... a sure sign that time is indeed marching on.

Looking through Facebook, I found people that I knew for just a few years, and some that I knew for a life-time. Browsing through the photographs they've made public, I've seen their families... spouses, children, grandchildren, cousins, aunts and uncles... everyone is there, and I sit here at my laptop and smile at them all, happy that they're happy.

I don't use Facebook for myself... my opinion is that I pour enough out about myself in my four blogs... and I don't know how to transport photos from one place to another on the computer.  I do, however, enjoy looking up (and finding) people that I once knew.

Curiosity?  Probably.

Just needing to know that they're happy?  Most likely.

A great quote!

"Be yourself...... everyone else is taken!"

    I found that on another blog, and it's the best quote I've read all week!

(And I can't remember the name of the blog, to give credit where it's due... so my apologies for that.)

Outside the bubble...

I mailed two computer-printed photos of the recent July 4th parade in Chappell Hill up to my cousin F on Long Island.  The pictures were taken by our friends J and J as we were all watching the parade, and those two particular photos showed the longhorn cattle with their riders.  Each longhorn was wearing a blanket and saddle, each saddle held a rider between the ages of 8 and 18.  The cattle were well-trained, the riders were smiling and waving.

My cousin F took one look at how close we were sitting to those "huge horned beasts" and she got on her computer and blasted me an eMail asking me if I'd lost my city-mind.  "You were sitting so close to the cattle! What if they had gone wild and run themselves into the crowd?! You and your husband would have been the first ones in line for those horns!! You could have both been killed!!!"

Killed? At a little July 4th parade in Chappell Hill?  That thought never crossed my mind. "Well, of course not!" (said cousin F)-- "You're living in a tight little bubble down there!"

And of course, my cousin is correct.  We don't have city-stress here (wildlife adventures not counting as city-stress)... we don't have the northeast rumble and bumble of me-first attitudes... we don't think that everyone we meet is out to get us.... and sitting at the fringe of a 4th of July parade and being two feet away from longhorn cattle who could toss us into the trees with one sideways swing of their horns just never crossed our minds.

We are indeed living in a bubble.  We live in a town where car doors are hardly ever locked, even when they're parked outside a store on the main 'downtown' street and the motor is left running so the car stays cool with the air-conditioning.  Store-keepers leave merchandise outside on the sidewalk all day long, and sometimes overnight, without a thought that someone could walk away and take them. (The word "steal" probably doesn't come into play in this town.)

I've invited my cousin F to come down here for a visit time and time again. I have suggested that if she gave this town a try, she wouldn't want to leave our guest rooms. I've offered her the guest rooms over the barn or the guest cottage..... "Take your pick! Stay a week, stay a month, stay for the rest of your life!"

She's not ready for such an adventure. She's never flown on a plane before, and it's going to take more than this little bubble to get her down here. Looking back on all my years on Long Island, that's about as outside the bubble as one can get.  I wonder how long it would take to drive from Long Island to the Hill Country....

Fried Red Tomatoes

Don't try this at home, kids...

I made fried chicken for my husband's dinner tonight... I don't like fried chicken at all, but my husband does. I made too much breading for the three chicken pieces, so I went looking in the fridge for something else to fry. (Mistake number one.)

Tomatoes.... I had tomatoes in the fridge.  And when we traveled to Savannah, I tried Paula Deen's Fried Green Tomatoes and I loved them. (I do make an exception with some fried foods from time to time.)  So there I was, looking in the fridge with Savannah on my mind, thinking why not just use the fresh tomatoes my husband bought at the Farmers' Market yesterday? (Mistake number two.)

I picked out the firmest tomato that I had, and sliced it up into four thick slices.... breaded them up.... and let the slices fry in the same pan I had just cooked the chicken in.  Within 20 seconds, the juice from that ripe tomato started spattering and flying out from the hot oil in the skillet.  It was somewhat like being shot at with a teeny machine gun and having no place to hide.

Never let it be said that I cringe at a challenge (unless said challenge involves any sort of wildlife critter, scary movie, or outdoor activity).  I stood at my post in front of that skillet, trying to stand as far away from the stove-top as my arm would allow...... and waited for the tomato slices to get brown and crispy.

Please take note:  slices of breaded red tomatoes do not get crispy. They get soggy.

When my husband came downstairs for dinner, I gave him his plate of fried chicken, and then showed him the plate of fried red tomatoes.

"Aren't the tomatoes supposed to be green for that?"  (Details... men can get obsessed with details.)

"I didn't have any green tomatoes," said I.

"Will that work with red ones?" 

"Let's taste them and see," said I. (Mistake number three.)

Please take another note:  slices of fried red tomatoes do not taste very good. Paula Deen would have hit me over the head with her favorite frying pan for what I did to those tomatoes, and I would have been asked to leave Savannah.

And now, please pardon me.... I have to go back downstairs to my kitchen and clean the stove-top, and the entire counter-top as well.  (Can you get oil stains out of a gray cotton top with pretty silver sparkles all over it?  The little oil spatters don't quite match the silver sparkles....)

Happy Birthday, Fran.

Tomorrow would have been my friend Fran's 63rd birthday.

Would have been. Happy Birthday anyway, Fran... and I hope you can hear me. You've been on my mind for days, as you always are when your birthday has come around.

Fran passed away in 2011, just two weeks before the birth of her first grandchild, which was a little girl. After raising two boys, Fran would have loved a little baby girl... the daughter of her oldest son and his beautiful wife.

My husband and I flew up to New York when Fran's granddaughter was a few months old...  such a darling beautiful little girl.  Fran's son put her in my arms and I held her for hours and hours, just listening to her soft little sounds and watching her sleeping and eating and smiling.  I just couldn't put the baby girl down..... it was as if I were holding the baby not just for myself, but for Fran also.  And tears came to my eyes on that day because when Fran's son was hours old, I had held him in my arms as well.

Before the baby girl was born, and before Fran lost her voice for the last time, we talked over the phone about the coming baby-bundle. Fran was hoping that her grandchild would grow up loving books, loving to learn, and wanting to find out everything she could about the world she would soon be joining.  Fran said that parents and grandparents make sure their children have toys and games, but only book-loving parents and grandparents will start a library of books for the new babies. Fran wanted her grand-baby to have books, books, books.

I've been buying books for Fran's grandchild since before she was born... sending them up to her for holidays and birthdays.  Fran's son tells me that his daughter loves all of her books, and he sends me photos of his little girl as she opens up the packages I send her.  That tiny little baby girl just celebrated her third birthday last month.... she can recognize her name now on the packages and she knows when "Aunt Larrie" has sent more books.

So today, on this day before Fran's birthday..... I'm trying not to feel sad over her loss.  I realize that the loss of my friend is nothing compared to the loss suffered by her husband and her sons, her brother, her daughter-in-law and her granddaughter.

I have a picture of myself and Fran, taken at our wedding dinner after my husband and I got married in 1995.  Fran is healthy and vibrant, beautiful and lively..... her voice was music, her personality was enthusiastic and exciting.  That photo was always in our wedding album, but when Fran passed away, I took it out of the album and put it in a small frame on my dresser.  I see it every day, every day.  I don't want to forget Fran..... I don't want to forget how she looked at her best, how her voice sounded, how her eyes truly sparkled when she was happy.

Fran and I have a long history together..... beginning at the end of high school... continuing on in our early 20s.... through our 30s and 40s and 50s.  We knew nearly everything about each other, the good and the not-so-good, the happy and the sad.  Fran died just before her 60th birthday. Much, much too young for such a wonderful life to end.  When I turned 60 the following year, I wanted so much to talk to Fran about this 60th decade.... but she was already gone.

In my darkest of moments, Fran was there for me, with a cup of tea and "a good chat" (as she called our discussions) at her kitchen table. We sat there for hours and hours, talking and crying and laughing, letting the tea get cold.

Happy Birthday, Fran.  I miss you, and probably always will.  I have tried so hard not to forget your voice, but I have to admit that sometimes I can't remember the exact sound of it. But I do remember your friendship, your patience, your kindness, your understanding, your fairness. I wish we could have added this 60th decade to our history together.

I hope you're still out there somewhere, Fran, watching your grand-baby girl reading her books and enjoying her especially wonderful family.

The pizza gods are happy.

I don't care what anyone says... once you get out of the cities of New York or Chicago, you're hard-pressed to find great pizza. And by "great," I don't mean pizza that's made by part-time high school kids who follow a diagram and count the number of pepperoni slices that go on each pie.

What I do mean is honest-to-Italian-goodness hand-made pizza with home-made dough, sauce made with a grandmother's recipe, fresh mozzarella cheese, and baked in a hell-hath-no-fury-like-a-real-pizza-oven.

Except for one restaurant in downtown Houston (Star Pizza) we don't usually get pizza anywhere else in this state. It's just not worth the time and the trouble, although we have tried time and again. Yesterday, my husband had to drive into Clear Lake.... and discovered Dan's Pizza Co., in the town of Webster. And let me repeat....... the pizza gods are happy.

Not only was the pizza delicious and worthy of being called a New York-style pie.... my husband brought home two pizzas, which now sit in the fridge.  He ordered a meat-topped pie for himself, and a cheese pie for me. (Can you hear the angels singing as I type?)

When I opened the box, I took one look at the pie and said "Now that's a pie!"  It not only smelled delicious, but it looked delicious, and the aroma of the sauce reminded me of Mr. Pumpernink's Pizza in London. (That Italian restaurant was so good that we ate there five times--- the owner/chef is originally from New York.)

I tasted the teeniest-tiniest slice of the cheese pizza last night when my husband got home.... it heated up nicely in the microwave, but when I have a slice for lunch today, I'll use the oven. Without a doubt, my cheese pie will last longer than my husband's meat pie.... I will have one slice at a time, probably every day for lunch until there are no more slices left in the box.

And then I'll be asking my husband when he's going back to Clear Lake.

---Note about the pie slices..... when I re-heated a small piece in the microwave last night, it was delicious and tasted right-out-of-the-pizza-oven.  Today for lunch, I re-heated the slice in the oven......... the pizza was very good but not as good as last night's zap in the microwave. This particular pizza's crust is just a bit too thin for re-heating in the oven, and the mozzarella didn't stand up to the oven temperature either.  So, Dan's Pizza Co. is still a go-to for pizza from Clear Lake.... I just wouldn't re-heat it in the oven anymore.