Fah Who For-Aze

It is Christmas Day in New Zealand (they may be a small country, but Santa comes there first), and hopefully Mr. Curious is happily engaged in exploring the spoils of the season. Fortunately, we were able to witness his opening of our gift several days ago before Skype struggled and went down. Unfortunately, the Baby-All-Star's First Christmas Hoopla had to be postponed til next week since he and his family have been fighting a nasty bug that invaded North Texas.

That leaves the DH and moi , roasting chestnuts by the fire, with our pathetic tree ( and you thought everything was bigger in Texas) to celebrate on our own. Of course, one is never really alone at Christmas because memories of so many Christmases Past dance in one's head. So, my little elves, just like the Whos discovered: Christmas comes ... no matter what. May yours be filled with glee, not greed.

Texas Toes

If you live in Texas, you gotta own a pair of boots. Tiptoeing is not an option and swaggering is a must. Dallas beauty queens cannot wait for cooler weather in order to pull on their boots and go out to do some ridin' and ropin'. Men too - sometimes with chaps - at the beach. Well, that's a story for another day .......



Of course, cowboy boots are not de rigueur for every occasion. We can be quite civilized, y'all. Nevertheless, we will walk all over you.

An American Holiday

It's the day of the feast. We gather together to offer up our thanks for food and family.

And then it is black Friday, and we run out to the malls to spend our money and tangle with our fellow shoppers in order to prepare for the next holiday on the calendar. It's the American way.

Hey! Where are the pictures of the cars and the crowds?

I am reluctant to confess that just the thought of the Friday frenzy forced me to retreat to my jetted tub where I gazed at my favorite tree whose-name-I-do-not-know, and I meditated on the madness of it all.

Some of us shop; some of us drop ...... and to all a good night.

You Can Cook But You Can't Hide

One of the popular bloggers opined that it was so b.o.r.i.n.g reading blogs about food and kids and cats and...... Well, dudette, I feel your pain ... if it's not about us, who gives a fig? Oh, fig ... another food reference. However, we all have to eat - usually several times a day too. Somehow doesn't seem the most efficient use of time. As you might have guessed, we are not in my kitchen. And could the photographer have snapped a shot while my eyes were open? I have my glasses on, for Pete's sake. And, no, it couldn't have been the effects of the wine.

To continue, tuna and mango and orange sections and cucumbers and water cress and sauces ... yum. Again, not in my kitchen, where PB&J is often on the menu although on rare occasions I have been known to toss something on the grill just to keep the DH guessing. I know .... the Barefoot Contessa must be trembling in her boots. Oh, wait...

See the guy at the bar? No, it's not Tony Romo, but it might as well be since he doesn't have to put in his time on the grid iron for the rest of the season, but I digress. What do you think the dude is watching on the big screen behind the bar? Remember... this is Texas - football football football. OK, maybe not this year. All that almost-winning-the-World-Series seriously hindered our macho or mojo or something. Anyhow, the big screen broadcasts the play-by-play action in the kitchen. Talk about must-see TV.

Don't Feed the Bears

That's what I like about Texas. The restaurant owners warn you about the wild animals that might be hanging around the bar. I could have used that info when I was in my twenties.

P is for Pumpkin

Daughter Dearest is a big fan of Halloween. Unfortunately, she has been living in a country that doesn't appreciate the tricks and the treats. See her adventures here on Wellington Road in New Zealand. Even as a child, she enjoyed the costumes and the fantasy more than the candy. Moi, I'm all about the chocolate. Of course, before it became too scary out there on the sidewalks and we all became strangers to our neighbors, my mother and her friends actually handed out home made goodies ..... cupcakes, popcorn balls, caramel apples .....

Number Nine

It's TEXAS, people. We all want to be Tony Romo - or date him.

It's football-football-football. Friday night is for high school games and Saturday is for the colleges, and Sunday....well, Sunday is for the Cowboys. Except we are not happy sitting over here in the L column. So ..... you may be a good time Cowboy Casanova, leainin' up against the record machine, but you're runnin' for your life on the grid iron.

Dude, you stole our happy. You made us cry. We wanna uh-uh-uh-uh undo it.

apologies to Carrie Underwood

Going Green for Halloween

Now that the humidity has left town, we can go outside and enjoy the trees at the Dallas Arboretum. The one I'm standing beside reminds me of the threatening trees in The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Of course, Halloween does arrive at the end of the month. Scary.

Still Baseball Season

Outside Ranger Stadium. Not much of a crowd today, but our Rangers have already cinched their division title. They're playing the Seattle Mariners, who are trying to end the season with less than one hundred losses ...... so not much excitement there; and most of the big bats are taking the day off. It's just us and the die hard fans. Well, we are, but mostly on television.

Our real seats are a level lower, but it's damn hot with no breeze so we're up here under the overhang with the cool crowd. How about some AC, people?

Looking across from the walkway to where the Cowboys play. Do they really need that dome? I thought cowboys were tougher than that. Don't they sleep under the stars?

One of my favorite five minutes was singing Deep in the Heart of Texas while deep in the heart of Texas. Hey, I'm adaptable ...... a necessary trait for survival of the species. Check your science book.

Take Me Out to the Beach

From the first time I snuggled my toes in the sand I have loved the beach more than any place on earth. Here, I am hailing you from the snow white sand on what is now known as the Emerald Coast of Florida. Back then (no, I'm not going to tell you when! Get a clue, people - the photos are in black & white) it was the Red Neck Riviera. Gorgeous, nonetheless. No crowds and no condos.

I was on the very same beach last November with a smile just as big. Of course, I was wearing my sunglasses on my eyes. All the better to see you with, my dear.


So, tune in next week. Will our heroine follow the sun or will she head west for a rendezvous with the Rangers? What a cliffhanger.

Where Were You?

There are a few dates in history that live in infamy. I was not yet born when Pearl Harbor was bombed. However, my father, his brother, and one of my mother's brothers were drafted and served in the Armed Forces as a result of that attack. Their generation bore that burden and was forever affected in one way or another.

My own generation spent years, ducking under our desks during drills, identifying the locations of the nearest air raid shelters, and scrambling into underground tunnels during our college years. Vietnam permanently scarred some of us and scared all of us.

Every one of us still remembers where we were when we learned of Kennedy's assassination.

And yet, nothing. Nothing in our experiences. Nothing in our imaginations. Nothing prepared us for the assault on the World Trade Center. Frozen in horror. Motionless in shocked disbelief. Most of us were not in New York, but we could not turn away from the images on our television screens.

Where were you? I was here, tending America's hope for the future. La petite classe de francais .... a month later, we were making a photo album for a classmate's mother (the school secretary) who was in the hospital ...... dying. My smallest class ever. (French was dying too.) I loved each one of those kids (yes, smaller classes do mean more teacher/student interaction) and many others, and I pray that they are able to overcome the challenges they face, including the aftermath of 09-11.

We're Not in Kansas, Are We, Toto?

my photo

photos by Eric Garcia

According to the #1 Son, Texas is a land of weather extremes. We have lived here less than a year and have experienced the deepest snowfall ever and the hottest day on some date in August and now? now we are subjected to a close encounter with a tornado brought to us in living color thanks to Tropical Storm Hermine. Will the fun never end?

The DH informed me, while the sirens were wailing and the media and our weather radio were warning that the tornado was on the ground just a few blocks away, that there was no rush to seek cover because we would hear it coming. you know, a tornado sounds like a roaring train ......

FYI: Don't bet your life on it.

The Other Side of the Street

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only. A Tale of Two Cities - Charles Dickens (1812 - 1870)

Sometimes we become discouraged. The sun may be shining brightly; but, like this small tree, we are surrounded by cement, slowly withering in the hot sun. If we could only manage to get to the other side of the street where there are underground sprinklers and twice-weekly landscape maintenance.....

Stalking the Sunflower

Ya know, Van Gogh loved sunflowers. Me too. Of course, he was crazy; I'm not commenting on my own sanity, but I do still have both ears. I just saw the doctor today, and she verified their presence although they are currently struggling against the Texas allergens.

Sunflowers are beauty queens and work horses (so Texas, y'all); and they are not at all choosy about where they grow. A few scattered seeds in an out-of-the-way alley for a sunny surprise or tidy rows in a well-tended field for a pretty profit. The old bloom where you're planted idea. I don't know who plants them at Whole Foods. However, they must be organic so I take them home in my recyclable shopping bag.

Too Hot to Cook

I have mentioned how hot it is here in Texas, land-of-the-free-home-of-the-brave, haven't I?

Yes, you have. Waaay too often.

And did I tell you how I strive to limit my time in the k-room?

Uh-huh. (yawn)

We had lunch at a very fancy French bistro this week .....

Indeed.

And the owner extolled the virtues of a very nice chilled melon soup they were offering that day.......

Do tell.

I giggled to myself, "Why I made that myself this week."

You don't say.

Watch for my new cookbook Almost Cooking coming to a bookstore near you.

A Messy Desk

Albert Einstein supposedly wondered, "If a cluttered desk signs a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?" Methinks the answer to this question is probably much more simplistic than that E=MC2 thing. So we're all in agreement, then .............. a cluttered desk is a sign of genius.

My desk was in this state of disarray while I ranted and raved, as I do every month, about our cable bill, which just went up again last month. The DH throws in his two-cents worth about television used to be free." (He's old.) I remind him that we receive a lot more channels now, but we both agree that there's not a lot worth watching despite the increased selection. However, he never complains when he's watching football ...... or baseball ..... or golf ..... or basketball ....

On the other hand, we don't usually complain about the bill from Texas Power since we are sandwiched between two condos and, therefore, run our AC less than if we were more exposed to the sizzle of the Texas sunshine. Fourteen consecutive days of temperatures over 100 degrees. I hope we're not striving for the record of 42. And yes, it feels just as hot as you imagine it might. But, I digress. Texas Power sent a notice this week, informing us that they had compromised our personal information, and we are currently at risk for identity theft. With a lukewarm apology, they gave us a list of tasks it would behoove us to perform ASAP, which included placing fraud alerts on all of our accounts. We have to go to the bank in person. Thanks, Texas Power, and what is your penalty for your laissez-faire attitude regarding personal identification info? Is it spread out on your desk in a jumble or neatly organized in stacks of social security numbers and bank codes?

At the moment, my desk is clear; but my mind is cluttered. Yours?

Please, Mr. Weatherman

I am not dropping my leaves, but I can identify with the resident ficus tree. Does it really have to be so friggin' hot every day? Doncha know variety is the spice of life? Sure. I love the sunshine as much as the next person, but if every day is sunny and hot what have you got to compare it to? You have seen that groundhog movie, right?

The President was in the Lone Star State today. Even he mentioned it was hot, and you know presidents spend a lot of time in hot water so they really ought to recognize hot when they see it.

So ............ if you need me, I'll be in the bedroom ........ raking leaves.

Summer in the City

This frowzy geranium had perky blooms not too long ago. Perhaps if she used a good moisturizer, her leaves wouldn't get so dry and crackly. I attempted to move her out of the hot sun, but she turned all weepy and moldy on me. After I removed all the unsightly bits, she's having another go at a spot in the sun, but I don't really hold much hope for her .... maybe a more heat resistant pot?

It's summer in Dallas when:

it is not a dry heat
the thermometer is stuck above 100 degrees outdoors
the AC is below freezing indoors
car convertible tops are up
restaurant patios are deserted
the supermarket ices down your purchases for the ride home
the alley cats have disappeared
it never rains
hot water comes out of both faucets
there's no ice in ice cream.

What can I say? When it's hot, we're hot. The geranium too.

Glorious Food

The smallest gourmet sampled carrots and gave them less than rave reviews this weekend.

Are you sure carrots are edible?

Later in the week his grandfather inquired, with almost the same facial expression,

Are you sure edamame are edible?

"Oh, even if they're not, they sure are colorful, n'est-ce pas?"

Sorry, Dude ... My Bad

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

We used to take the kids to baseball games ..... now they take us. In fact, for several summers we owned (with friends) season tickets to the Cincinnati Reds' games. My father was an incredibly loyal, unwavering, life-long Reds fan. His number one grandson, pictured here last weekend outside the ball park in Arlington, Texas, not so much. He is a more fickle fan, having had a fling with both the Tigers and the Rockies, but now, as you can see by the attire, we're totally on base with the Rangers.

We've been having a bit of rain here in the Dallas metroplex, but we don't let inclement weather dampen our enthusiasm. And yes, this is the stadium where the overly enthusiastic fan tumbled over the deck when he reached for a foul ball last week. My advice: just buy a baseball if you want one.

Inside with the boys and the beers and the brats. What could be more fun? Yeah, we know. The World Cup, and Wimbledon, and LeBron, and yada yada yada; but Baseball is America's Pasttime. Right up there with Mom and Apple Pie.

Washed Up

Ever feel like a fish out of water? I won't lie to you; I miss the beach. However, now that the Gulf has become an oil retention tank, I wonder whether the Sunshine State can break through the clouds. Hurricanes are bad enough, but black gold gone postal??? At first, it seemed Texas might be spared the gusher's wrath and I was able to console myself with thoughts of treks to Galveston or Port Aransas, maybe even Padre Island. That dream was dashed when tar balls washed up on the beach north of Galveston this weekend (as if they haven't suffered enough). And why do you think the media has settled on the term tar ball? Maybe that seems less icky than the ugly gooey sticky slimy globs they really are. And people, I don't care how much you paid for your vacation on the sand, you don't want to get in the water with those things. That's just as crazy as jumping in with the jelly fish. Another euphemism - tar balls and jelly fish: sounds like the daily special at a seafood restaurant. So, for now, my beach is my bath tub. Last one in .............

June with a Spoon

Yeah, I know. Looks as though I've been dragged into the kitchen again, kicking and screaming in protest. Didn't we already eat today? Hey, I'm the one who was paying attention last century when the scientists promised that we would eliminate meats and veggies and merely be able to swallow a palmful of capsules for nourishment. Still waiting.

It's too hot to cook, y'all. Can't we just have a Popsicle and call it a day? Even the refrigerator is having a melt down and refuses to respond when I press its digital temperature buttons. So confusing ....... is a higher number cooler? Shouldn't it be the other way? Where is the frickin' bottle of nutritional pills?

For those of you who are still hung up on food prep, I don't remember where I found this recipe, but it was actually quite tasty and easy as boiling water. Pasta, cantaloupe, arugula, fontina cheese, and homemade poppyseed dressing. It's summer. You're welcome.

Soccer Mom

I've seen more than my share of soccer matches. None of them any less exciting than the ones in South Africa at this year's World Cup. Play on. Now where did I put my vuvuzela?