"Humans of New York"

I have Humans of New York on my list of 'favorites' and I check that web-site every day, usually twice a day. Some of the stories make you laugh and smile, and others are enough to break your heart.

The latest entry this afternoon made me cringe. Absolutely cringe, to think that some parents can be so thoughtless and cruel.... and heartless enough to make their child want to end their young life.

There needs to be an instruction booklet for parents.... babies are born and honestly, I swear that there are a lot of parents out there who don't know how to take care of and/or raise their children.  At least once a week, there is a story in 'Humans of New York' that proves my opinion. This afternoon's photo and story breaks my heart.

Be kind. Be kind. BE KIND.  Is that such a hard thing to do?

Be kind to older people. Be kind to animals. Most of all, be kind, BE KIND, to children.

Outside of the bubble....

We left the countryside behind this morning as we drove into Houston.  There was an exhibit of European art and artifacts at the Art Museum that we wanted to see, so that's where we went first. So nice to be in the city again.  Easy for me to say, because I wasn't driving. So many road-blocks from on-going construction... seems like Houston is becoming a city of one-way streets and over-passes. The highways keep getting higher and higher and they all look like a confusing maze of concrete.

We had lunch at Niko Nikos, our favorite Greek restaurant in the Montrose area of Houston.... such good home-made food that's always consistently delicious. No matter what time of the day or night you happen to go there, that restaurant is just packed. And everyone happily waits on line, discussing the menu options with courtesy and patience. Such great energy in that restaurant.... the staff seems happy to be working there, and the customers are always more-than-satisfied with the food.  I truly miss the ethnic restaurants of Houston, particularly that one.

Last stop was Hank's Ice Cream... one man's dream of making and selling ice cream with his grandmother's recipe.  Hank's dream became a delicious and successful reality, and his little store near the old Astrodome is always busy with happy customers. Sadly, Hank passed away a few years ago, but his family has been keeping his tradition alive and the taste of his grandmother's ice cream is just the same as if Hank were still there. Such a nice man he was... sparkling gentle eyes and he remembered all of his 'regular' customers as soon as they walked in the door.

In an effort to not get caught up in rush-hour traffic, we left Houston before three o'clock.... driving home to the country bubble.... green pastures filled with cattle and goats, as opposed to concrete shopping centers filled with stores and restaurants.

The green pastures are beautiful, and the cows look peaceful..... but there's something to be said for a city filled with stores that aren't playing country music, museums that are filled with treasures from around the world, and an unlimited supply of shoe stores, restaurants, and bookshops.

Handymen come, handymen go...

We've been lucky with handyman R... he's been here working on the flowerbeds, pulling up that awful (and useless) black fabric that was underneath the mulch. Honestly, for the price of that stuff, you would think you wouldn't see one solitary weed. Think again.  Now we have layers upon layers of old newspapers underneath new mulch, with the hope that the newspapers will do what the Pinterest gardeners proclaim:  last at least two years before breaking down into the soil, and keeping weeds at bay.

Fighting weeds out here is like fighting fire ants.... there are billions of each, all of which are ready to pop up in the garden or the lawn at any time. I've given up with the flowerbeds. What started out as an attempt to keep them pristine and blooming has turned into a test of my patience.  And is that how I want to be spending my time? Pulling up weeds while watching out for snakes and scorpions and spiders and ants?

Ever since reading Mitch Albom's book "The Time Keeper," I've been so very conscious of time, and how minutes, hours, and days are spent.  Time is the only thing you can never get back... once those hours are gone, they are gone. Gone. So be careful how you use them, how you spend them, how you treasure them.  And working outside in that yard isn't a treasure, in my opinion.

So blessings on handyman R, who doesn't seem to mind working outside in the heat... and tells us that gardening is relaxing to him. He's been working around the perimeter of the house, and being as careful as if those flowerbeds were on his own property.  It's a pity (for us) that R already has his own house in town, because we would have asked him to live in the barn apartment.

We had also found another handyman who did work well, and quickly, but the problem was he took it upon himself to do things we didn't ask him to do. As a result, all of the smaller pecan trees in the backyard were trimmed mercilessly the last time S was here.  My husband hasn't called him to come back here to work again, and I don't think he will.

The barn apartment remains empty... we're thinking of renting it out again, and most likely will when we can find someone who really wants to live way out here, who doesn't smoke or have pets, and who is responsible and trust-worthy and doesn't have crazy friends. Jeez.... is that too much to ask for?  Hope floats.

Seriously. Hurtfully. Hatefully. Wrong.

There is something extremely horribly wrong with a society in which children are not safe in their schools and adults are not safe in their churches.

The news this morning from Charleston, South Carolina is just devastating.  Nine people were killed as they sat in their church for a bible-study discussion. Senseless. Ridiculously senseless and no explanation whatsoever could ever, ever justify such a violent act. As I type, the police (and everyone else, probably) are looking for the young man who walked into that church with a gun.

We have been to Charleston, and it's a beautiful city, beautiful beyond belief, and it seemed so tranquil and lost in time. People there were friendly and hospitable and happy to say hello to strangers. And all it takes to make that atmosphere disappear is one man with a gun.  And not only has he succeeded in killing the pastor of that church and eight of the parishioners, he has killed the sanctity of that city as well.

Charleston will get that sense of safety and tranquility back, in time, simply because the residents there will come to terms with the fact that one violent man with a gun doesn't define the population. But the fact remains that this bloodstained senseless day will live on forever in the history of that beautiful city.  My heart just breaks for the good people of Charleston, and especially for all of the members of the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church.

Peach cobbler...

With all the peaches we picked recently from a nearby orchard, I decided to bake something on this rainy day we're having. Actually, it was pouring rain when I started the recipe, but then it cleared up and the sun has been set on broiling ever since.

I have a wonderful cookbook titled "Dori Sanders' Country Cooking."  Dori is the owner of a peach farm in York County, South Carolina.  The sub-title of her cookbook is "Recipes and Stories From The Family Farm Stand."  So not only is this volume chock-full of good country food tips and recipes, but you get the added bonus of her family and their traditions... they've owned the farm for years and years.

I used her recipe for Peach Cobber, which she calls her "magic pie" because you put the batter into the pan first, then add the peaches.  As the cobbler bakes, the batter bubbles up around the peaches and the consistency is like a thick bread pudding.  With apologies to Dori, I used less than half the butter, less than half the sugar, and I didn't cook the peaches before adding them on top of the batter in the baking pan. The result.... the best cobbler I've ever made, and I will probably use this recipe for other fruits as well.  This would also be a great recipe for a Waldorf Wednesday tea.

Dori has also written two novels: "Clover" and "Her Own Place," both of which I've read and loved and have upstairs in my library.  I should check the Internet to see if she has written other novels recently... her writing is genuine and personal, as if she's right there with you telling her stories.

We had such pouring down rain today... as well as a rain storm in the middle of the night. More rain than we need right now, but that's fine... we're getting near to July and August when most of the Hill Country will be praying for a rain-drop, if not an entire rain-storm.

Haven't seen the peacock in a couple of days... guess he's down at the neighbor's house and keeping company with the hens and roosters there. And the orange cat wasn't out back this morning... he tends to hide in the rain, plus Gatsby slept on the porch last night and probably reminded Orange Cat just who rules the porch out there.

Right this minute, Dori Sanders' peach cobbler is ruling the kitchen... it smells heavenly. Is it tea time yet?

For shame...

There seems to be a new trend lately, and I have no idea how, why, or where this started. I've seen pictures on Pinterest boards and Facebook pages, mostly of house pets but some with small children.  All of the animals and the little kids have just the saddest looks on their faces... the children look like they're about to cry, and the pets (mostly dogs) look as if they've seen their last day and have been screamed at for the last ten minutes.

And what do they all have in common? They made a mistake. And the parents of the little kids, and the owners of the pets.... they have written out a sign announcing to the world their terrible lapse of judgement. For example: "I ate my crayons and then got sick on mom's sofa."  or  "I ate the cat's food after eating my dog food."  or  "I chewed up mom's favorite pair of shoes."  or  "I spilled a whole box of Cheerios on my mom's clean kitchen floor."

The signs are then suspended with ribbon or string around the child's or dog's neck, and then a photo is taken and posted on Pinterest or Facebook.... or, at the very least, eMailed to every friend and relative on someone's calling list.

Now, honestly. Is that necessary?  Does it make those people feel better, to be "shaming" their child or their pets and have the mistake or error in judgment announced to everyone they know?  Have these people nothing better to do? Or is it possible that the ones doing the shaming are so perfectly perfect that their world is shattered by a mess on the kitchen floor or a ruined pair of shoes?

As Bill O'Reilly would say:  "Wise up, people!"

Your child is a part of you, and there's no one your child trusts more than his/her parents.  There is nothing to be gained by embarrassing your child by "shaming" them on the Internet.   Your pet, whether it be a dog or a cat, holds you in such high esteem that you'd be surprised how much love their little hearts can hold for you.

So before you write that sign and take that photo, and before you scream at your child or your pet for what you consider to be a life-altering moment like a spilled glass of milk or a chewed-up pillow... take a moment to consider how less-than-perfect you yourself have been for the years you've spent on this planet.

Stop screaming at your children. Stop shaming your pets. And if you feel you have to shame someone, then shame on you!

Wedding bells....

Today was the wedding of J's daughter, the ceremony and reception held at an historic mansion right here in town. Gorgeous day for a wedding, with sunny skies and warm-but-not-broiling temperatures.

The ceremony was under hundred-year-old pecan trees on the grounds of the old mansion, the lawn cool and comfortable underneath those big old trees. The bride's uncle officiated the ceremony, bringing more than a personal touch to the vows.

The ladies on our road here all feel like we've gone (nearly) every step of the way through the preparations for J's daughter's wedding.... from the invitations to the engagement party to the dress-and-shoe shopping and now, this evening, we all did witness the marriage.

J's mother-of-the-bride gown was Gatsby-esqe and gorgeous.... a midnight blue with just enough sparkle here and a touch of gathering there.... I told J that she needs to wear that gown to one of our Waldorf Wednesday tea parties. Not likely to happen, said she.

And the bride.... an exquisite gown with a sheer overlay above a sweetheart neckline, the look of vintage lace and just enough of a train to add elegance without being bothersome or too over-the-top for an outdoor ceremony. Gorgeous wedding gown, and L looked like a bride not a starlet.

Tonight was a storybook ending to a storybook romance.... the bride being introduced to her groom by a friend who thought they'd be perfect together... and they were. They became engaged in Europe, on a "Sound of Music" trip where L twirled among the hills and looked for edelweiss.

Bride and groom will soon be living in Germany, where the groom is stationed at an Air Force base.... today was just the beginning of their journey.

Got ice cream?

Actually, we don't. Not BlueBell, at any rate. By now, the entire country has heard what happened with the bacteria explosion in the BlueBell Ice Cream factory. What was supposed to have been an easy fix has turned into a monumental overhaul of their ice cream plant in the Hill Country. Considering that BlueBell employs so many people who are now without jobs, whenever one goes into town, the ice cream factory is the number one topic of conversation.

There isn't one person I've talked to in town who does not have either a friend, family member, or neighbor who has been laid off from the ice cream factory. Those workers are desperately looking for work, any work, until the factory is up and running again. Rumors are flying all around town.... they were supposed to be churning out ice cream for Memorial Day... then they were saying the plant would possibly be operating before July 4th.... and I heard today that they're hoping to be operational before the end of August.

The local supermarkets, all of which had dedicated maximum freezer-space to BlueBell ice cream, has long since filled up those freezers with other brands of frozen foods. There was always other choices of ice cream up here in the Hill Country, but it was always BlueBell that got the most promotion and was the ice-cream-of-choice wherever you went.  When they first began pulling BlueBell out of the store freezers, the company had signs up on the freezer doors, apologizing for the inconvenience and promising to be back shortly. Well, shortly never came... but still, people were standing in front of those empty freezers, reading and re-reading the letters from the BlueBell Company, and just shaking their heads. Most of the customers walked away without purchasing another brand of ice cream. (Texans are very loyal to their state brands.)  Now that those freezers have been filled up with other frozen foods, I can hear the "tsk-tsking" of long-time BlueBell lovers who are insulted that the store chose to use BlueBell's freezer space for other types of food.

We don't know when BlueBell will be back, but when those ice cream cartons are finally delivered back into the local stores, the freezers will probably be emptied out within a day's time.  It doesn't surprise me, either, that the nationwide ice cream brands weren't selling out during the absence of BlueBell.  Customers here are just waiting for their favorite BlueBell flavors to reappear on those freezer shelves, and my guess is that if they can't have BlueBell, then they'll just be going without ice cream until their Texas brand comes back.