The morning after

The Thug in Chief made a mockery of Democracy last night. I could imagine a group of dictators sitting together at a watch party, laughing approvingly and giving "Atta Boy" cheers--or the equivalent in Russian.

Art exhibit at the McNay

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v-OXCicqER4&t=194s&ab_channel=McNayArtMuseum&mc_cid=5be19ad540&mc_eid=d34713fd10 

This link takes you to an excellent video of Victoria Suescum's art show now at the McNay.

Guacamole

I decided to make myself a bowl of guacamole.  (The "G" is silent for those of you who don't live in Tex-Mex country.)

A man who used to work at Cappy's told me how to make it his way, how to then lay lemon slices on top, then a layer of Saran Wrap to keep it from turning brown.  He was right--it stayed beautiful for the past 24 hours, thick with tomatoes, onion, and lemon juice, but I'd been too heavy-handed with the serrano pepper and cilantro.  Hot stuff, hard to eat! 

I love guacamole on toast. The first time I had it I was pregnant--49 years ago.  A neighbor down the hill called out my name and asked me to come have breakfast with her, guacamole toast.  She was older with kids, and I'd never been inside her house.  I watched her chop up the avocado and add some onion and lemon and spices, then spread it on toasted white bread.  It was delicious! 

"You look like you're about to pop," she laughed. 

Yeah, this baby was due over a week ago," I said.  

But I'd managed to walk down the long hill from our house carrying my puppy Black, Tony sedately walking beside me. The neighbor must have welcomed the dogs inside because we didn't have leashes back then.  We just set out walking and the dogs stayed close. 

The weather was nice and coolish, like it is today.  It was October, and guacamole was exotic.  

Then Black and Tony and I  walked back up the long driveway.  Black ran on his own, weaving and jumping and wagging his whole body.  A mix between a cocker spaniel and a poodle I'd bought for $15; today he'd be a designer dog. 

Tony, our handsome German Shepherd, walked slowly, kept pace with me as he always did.  From time to time, he'd look at Black and back at me as if we had some knowledge in common: we both knew that little fluff ball, so crazy and crooked-walking, wasn't a real dog. Not like me, Tony said. nothing like me.

I'm going to make guacamole again tomorrow, this time using Boudro's (on the Riverbank) recipe, my favorite:

1 orange

2 limes

4-6 avocados

1 roma tomato roasted and diced

2 serrano peppers, roasted, seeded, and diced

4 T. red onions, diced

1/2 cup fresh cilantro, chopped

1 t. sea salt

1 garlic clove, chopped (optional)

Squeeze juice of orange and lime into a bowl.

Scoop avocado from skin, add to bowl and coarsely chop.

Add tomato, peppers, onion, garlic, and cilantro and fold into avocado mixture

Add salt to taste.  Should be crudely chopped, not mashed. 

 

Thursday

Three days after departing to Memphis Apple, my Mac is back, responsive, and working as it's designed to.

I wish I could say the same for myself.  Like all of you probably, I'm feeling the terror of Trump and his cronies seriously threatening Democracy.  

I'm also having what Betty calls "grief bursts."  small and uninvited explosions of grief in the middle of doing something entirely unrelated. Sometimes they flare in a tiny moment, then all past griefs gather around it in a cluster. 

With so many things going disastrously wrong in America, grief, anger, roller coaster emotions, and sadness are to be expected.  Rage, loss, fear of loss.  Of people we love, of a way of life we thought was a done deal.  Of equanimity and calm.  

I have grief bursts every day.  Today driving down McCollough, I remembered the sound of Elena's voice from the back seat: "We're gonna get a green light, we're gonna get a green light!" and we'd giggle together as I paced the accelerator as best I could to make her chant do its magic.

The next five green lights were blurry. 

temporary absence

 Iwillbeawayfromemailandtheblogforawhile.

thisiswhatmylaptopwritinglookslike.Forthethirdtimeintwoyearsit'sabouttotakeatriptoAppleforrepair.

Idon'tknowhowlongitwillbegone,maybeaweek. Sameissuethreetimes.IthinkIgotalemon.

Saturday

At the rodeo at Rose Palace, I expected to see Elena competing in a little kids' event, but no.  Along with her mom and her aunt, she competed in ranch sorting for the first time. 

Here's how it works:

A team of two goes into a corral with ten steer in one corner.  One rider sorts the steer and, one at a time, in order, gets them to leave their herd and go through the gate. The job of the team-mate is to prevent all the others from passing through. 

These steer have "herd mentality" for real. They don't want to be separated. 

Elena, the only child participating, sorted four of them on her first try.

Seeing her galloping around the arena with such confidence was impressive. 

Will and I  sat--mostly stood--on the opposite side of the field from all the other spectators and we both had tears in our eyes when we saw her bravely going into the corral on horseback.  It was a rite of passage for our little cowgirl.

Here she is riding the same horse on her first birthday:

Nibbling

If you ever give money to a political campaign or a cause or a store or a service, you know it's coming:

Can you give more?

How did we do?

Please take a minute to rate the two dollar item you bought.

Please take a minute to rate our service representative. 

They nibble away.

Even the  laptop nibbles: "Updates not installed" flashes, like a rebuke.  "You have not backed up your computer in 522 days."  

The iPhone announces: "Some services will not be available until you update."

Spammers pretend to be Amazon or the bank.  Online stores remind you  to reconsider everything you've looked at.  Facebook texts to tell you that you should wish happy birthday to someone you don't know in real life. 

Nibble nibble nibble. 

With a defiant finger, I throw every request for anything in my junk folder.  There! But in a day or two every one is resurrected under a pseudonym. I yell at them.  I refuse to review anything.  If I haven't returned it, assume I like it just fine. (Michaels wants me to review a piece of poster board, I kid you not!)  (PayPal wants me to review customer service's skills in taking an hour of my day to resolve an issue that wasn't my fault in the first place.)

I turn the phone off and put a napping sign on the door when I'm painting, reading, thinking, or sleeping. I  say no to the frequent requests (two this week) from people asking if they can permanently rent my casita.  If I ever want to be a landlord, I'll post an ad.

In the interest of election fatigue, I've donated a little, put up yard signs, and will stand in line or stand on my head or whatever it takes to get this toad of a president out and  Biden in, but no, Joe, you can't call me. I have election fatigue.  I've put up yard signs and I'll make some blue rocks, but that's it. 

Rock the Nation Blue

Thousands and thousands of people are painting rocks blue and leaving them in yards in their neighborhood, little mini signs supporting Biden and Harris.  I think this is a terrific idea and I'm putting this at the top of my Elena and Yenna Sunday list of fun things to do.

Another winner of an idea came from Kate who knows more about cleaning (and a lot of other things) than just about anybody I know.  When a serving of asparagus was spilled on my upholstered dining chair last night, I called Kate.  Of course, she knew just what to do.  Sprinkle cornstarch on it! The chair is now like brand new.

It was a stressful day with some sunny moments, but I made a big dent in my list of practical things that needed doing and neglected the painting I'd been wanting to do.  Tomorrow....

I could watch Lyn Belisle's and Jane Davies' videos nonstop.  They inspire me so much that I wake up in the middle of the night raring to try a new thing.  But I don't go to the casita after dark--as I prefer not to run into the skunk who's always slinking around the yard waiting to scare me. 

Alternately with art videos, I'm watching shows about dogs.  Guide dogs, puppies, you name it. But on this one day, I wonder: when would I have had an hour to attend to a dog? And would the dog I imagine naming Luca or Luna help me paint rocks blue? 

Thursday

Last night was yummy dinner with family night--and Nathan's request was Nana's poppy seed chicken and baked potatoes with lots of cheese and butter.  I added asparagus and scones and some sweets and we had ourselves a party that felt (except for the masks before and after dinner) like pre-COVID. 

Nathan had spent the entire afternoon creating a Jeopardy game covering U.S. History, technology, mythology, B.C. history, and Japanese history.  I'm not quite sure who won, but it was fun to argue over different interpretations of questions and answers.  Then we went to the casita and watched Jumanji with popcorn. 

Before they arrived, Day and Marcus and Tom Face Timed to show me Tucker's ability to "sit' on command.  He is such an adorable puppy, but Day has had a couple of days of pulling her curly hair out.  

"Should I reconsider a dog?" I asked.

"Wait until we see how long it takes for our little guy to have good manners," she said.  "But he's mostly always worth it." 

Before I knew that about seventeen things were going to need attention today, I watched a movie last night recommended by Kara that was mesmerizing and poignant, a beautiful story about an octopus and a diver.  It's called My Octopus Teacher.  I've never seen such a close up view of the kelp forests underwater and the animals who live there.  

Seventy Five Years Ago

...my beautiful parents, Lloyd and Carlene, eloped!

My daddy was a Navy man and my mama was a college student at GSCW--Georgia State College for Women.  In this picture they are holding a nephew, but three years later, they had a baby of their own--moi!  Six years later, they had Bob. 

They had fifty seven happy years together, two children and a brick house that was their dream house on Ann Street in Cochran, Georgia.  Then we moved to Lawrenceville, Georgia, (my junior year of high school) and built their second house--where Carlene still lives. 

In one of these photos they were newly married and my daddy was a student at the University of Georgia.  In the other, they are dancing at Bob and Jocelyn's wedding (just a few miles from the fraternity house of the dance--after which he decided a fraternity wasn't for him.)   Their love song was "I'll be loving you....Always."  And they did, all the way!

Two Giants and a Shrimp

 From Day's "Daily Dose of Cute" text today--Jackson and Marcus and Tuck.  And a very short video of Tuck attacking a blueberry. 

A

Monday

When I was a little girl, I remember having cotton panties with the days of the week embroidered on them.  I also remember dish towels with a chore and a day for each: Monday washing, Tuesday ironing, Wednesday, etc.

I need me some daily panties and dish towels to remind me what to do when, since most evidence of days of the week is no longer apparent.  My calendar is essentially blank except this week I have "dinner with Will and family" on the square for Wednesday.  Nathan has requested poppy seed chicken and baked potatoes, so I've gotten my shopping done this morning for dinner guests. 

I've also called every Tuesday Morning from here to Austin looking for a certain picture frame made in India to make my duo a trio, but there are none left anywhere.  How far am I willing to go with Betty's mantra: nothing will deter me....?

 I've fed the birds, pulled some weeds and washed the same clothes and towels I wash every week.  

After my nap, I see an afternoon of painting--ya hoo!

Dream Deferred, or Dream Changing

I always dreamed of being a writer--a suitable profession for an introvert and the main endeavor for which I received praise.  I love writing, but I lacked the motivation to pursue it on a grand scale.  And even if I had had the talent and luxury to be a full-time writer, I cringed at the thought of being a public person, going to signing parties, or reading bad reviews.  

Maybe I'm just the sort of person who loves writing for its own sake, or writing a blog that only my closest friends read.  And maybe I found satisfaction in years of teaching that distracted me from the original dream. 

A Lanston Hughes poem asks the question: "What happens to a dream deferred?" 

• 
• 
• 

       Does it dry up
       like a raisin in the sun?
       Or fester like a sore—
       And then run?
       Does it stink like rotten meat?
       Or crust and sugar over—
       like a syrupy sweet?

       Maybe it just sags
       like a heavy load.

       Or does it explode?

Dreams change as we change.

What we once dreamed of doing may turn to something else.  Or it may show up in a different form than we imaged it.  

"Traveling Solo" is probably the smallest and most random little blog in Blogsville. What started out as its focus is no longer even a feature of it, as the blogger (me) isn't traveling anywhere, solo or with a traveling companion.  

It's a hodgepodge of books, people, memories, suggestions, reflections, opinions.  It's pictures of my grandchildren and a record of my days--in case I ever go back and read it again. Maybe it's a legacy for my grandchildren. 

When Day made this blog for me seven years ago, she didn't include a button for comments, so I'm not writing for "likes" and hearts.  Still, it makes me very happy when sometimes one of you sends me an email that answers a question I've asked or continues the conversational bread crumbs.

I rarely mention your names unless I know it's okay.  Once I got in a spot of trouble for mentioning a friend's birthday party without permission.  But I know who you are and I have you in mind as I write.

You're Carlene (my first friend) and Betty (my second).  You're my best friends.  My teachers, playmates, kindred spirits.  You inspire me.  You read between the lines and send me bread crumbs back. 

While the word, love, is often over- and mis-used, I can say without exaggeration that I love you who read my random blog.  I so appreciate your taking the time to read these little postcards about my days and send me postcards from yours.

"Nothing can deter us from our mission."

 When Betty and I travel together, and when we're dead set on doing something, despite the obstacles, despite the one time disastrous night in a motel room in Cuba, New Mexico, Betty will get a determined look on her face and say, "Nothing will deter us from our mission!"

All day today I heard her voice in my head.  I went to Tuesday morning and found a blue frame that would be perfect for the house pictures she gave me on one of our trips--if only I could find three.

So I drove to five different Tuesday Mornings and found one more, just one, alas, but one.

Tomorrow I have two more to go on the way to Helotes.  Wish me luck cause if that doesn't work, I may have to drive to Austin or somewhere to find #3.

It was a lovely day overall, divided in the middle with a nap, ending right now in a soaky bath with yummy bath salts and oil.  After a month of showers, I am so enjoying my long nightly baths and they make me sleep much better.

When I'm designing a room, because I like my stuff, even what's in a closet somewhere, I can almost always find exactly what I need without going shopping.  I move mirrors and lamps around until I hear that internal click that tells me the room is finished.  With a candle lit on the rim of the bathtub, I'm hearing it now.

Our cowgirl

I took these a week ago, and looking forward to another visit tomorrow.

Nathan said, "Let's do a re-do with Yenna since I wasn't there when she came."  So tomorrow I get to see Nathan ride his new (old, from Papi) horse.

All these years, Nathan has never expressed an interest in riding, but since Papi gave him a horse of his own, he's all fired up to ride. 

 

Elena, like her mom, seems born to ride.  She's happy in any position on her horse's back. 

Daily Dose of Cute

 Today, a car just like mine but blue, was ahead of me in traffic with two dogs, each with its head out the window.  I was unable to stop them and ask about their dogs, but they looked like mutts with some German Shepherd mixed in.

Then, at Home Depot, I met an adorable Malti-poo.  Dog owners are always so friendly and like to introduce their pooches to strangers.

When I got home, I found this text from Day, Tucker of the Leary clan: 

62 degrees, 59 days

What happiness to open the front door this morning and feel a chill in the air!

Finally, fall feels possible in South Texas!   

In the grocery store this morning, I saw gold and orange things.  Life could only be better if I could take my annual October trip to Georgia and Virginia--and if a big Humpty Dumpty fall could happen to the little guy in the White House in 59 days.

Here's my morning dose of cute from Day, Jackson and Tuck taking a nap together.

And here's Marcus and Tuck, two happy boys!

Wednesday Morning

What's keeping you juicy and hopeful in spite of everything?  What brings peace, inspiration, and optimism?

For Betty and Carlene, it's jigsaw puzzling. Betty directed me to a site called Serious Puzzles--which you might check out as I did last night.  They sell beautiful puzzles. 

Ir may be online classes, art exhibits, writing, Botanical Gardens, painting, cooking, reading....

For me right now, it's two things: searching online for a puppy and taking another awesome art class with Lyn Belisle, this one with her friend and collaborator, Michelle Belto.

I'm like the proverbial kid in a candy shop watching art classes.  I can watch and play all night if I want to because there is absolutely nothing on the calendar that requires me to go anywhere the next morning.  Or--as Carlene says when we're on a road trip and meandering back roads, "Nobody's waiting for us." 

Yesterday I did a U-Turn and asked a walker, "What kind of dog is that?" (I do that all the time!) She was training a big gorgeous puppy to stop on command and sit.

Puppy walkers are so friendly.  "A Newfoundland," she said.  This puppy is already as large as a nearly-grown German Shepherd;  she's going to be a giant when she grows up, definitely not a lap dog.

At Bed, Bath and Beyond, looking for wash cloths, I talked to a woman with an 11-year-old dog who's a backyard accidental mix of a bull dog and a Bijon Frise. Lulu's bull dog  paternity wasn't noticeable, she looked like the kind of dog I'm looking for: friendly and cuddly. She goes everywhere with her Person--and that's the  main quality I'm after, a companion puppy who likes to travel, even to Bed Bath and Beyond. 

It's five in the morning, the wind is blowing, it's raining, and my house smells like garlic. I sliced a bulb for printing on paper later,  left it on the counter, and its fragrance has permeated the house.  I've taken a drive in the rain, watched a few sessions of Lyn's class, and now am feeling sleepy enough that I'm going to finish my night's sleep if I can. 

Finally!

The bathroom is now finished and both houses are so squeaky clean they won't know how to act!  I've rarely hired anyone to clean my house, but Lucy got it cleaner than it's ever been in this lifetime.  

She and Pedro both were here working all day--from 8:00 til just now.  One of the many things I love about their work is they take initiative and find things to do without needing any overseeing.  

Pedro helps Lucy clean and then he goes outside and sweeps the driveway and pulls up weeds and hangs pictures and repairs anything that needs fixing.  He's coming back on Saturday to fix the sticky irrigation pieces and maybe plant some things to replace the plants that have died.  

So Lucy comes with a helper and translator and prefers to work on Saturdays since she doesn't drive.  

I told them I'd tell my friends about them and they were so grateful--as they need to build a business.  So if you know of anyone needing housework, or yard work, or just about anything, I will give you their phone number.

Bittersweet

Bonnie and Elena rode in the rodeo in Bandera last night, Bonnie roping and Elena proudly riding in the opening parade.  When Will told me that rodeo people don't wear masks, I went instead for a short visit at their house and watched  Bonnie and Elena shampoo and brush their horses. But first, Elena saddled up and galloped like a pint-sized pro--I was amazed at her confidence and skill! 

When I arrived, she gave me one of her amazing hugs and I couldn't hold back the tears.  Such sweetness, such a reminder of life the way it was pre-COVID! 

I gazed at everything as if memorizing the beautiful afternoon--Elena giggling, hugging the dogs, washing the horses, riding both saddled and bare-backed, laughing,  and showing me her school set up in the corner of the dining room.  Leaving, and even this morning, I feel sad, so aware of the shadow of this virus, so lonesome.

Those eyes!  That joy!

"Is Trump still the president?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," one of us answered.

"Oh no!" she said.  "There's a lot of talk about politics right now, but I don't get it.  I'm just a little kid."

Amish Puppy

I just got a call from Day and the whole family--the car filled with squeals of delight!  They just got this little Havanese puppy from an Amish family in Pennsylvania!

Day and I have been talking puppies for weeks and they did it first--and I'm over the moon excited for them.

So far he doesn't have a name, but Marcus is leaning toward Otis.  I'll keep you posted.  I've requested daily pictures of my grand-puppy.   He weighs 3 pounds and is expected to be ten pounds when fully grown.  

Marcus loves dogs but has allergies to dogs. This little guy is hypoallergenic, so he's going to be just fine

Finishing Day

 Remember to change your AC filters, even more often when you're having dusty work done in the house.

I had changed mine a month ago, but it was loaded with dust--which led to the freezing of the coil.  Abel came over yesterday, changed the filter, and we left it off all day and all night, and it seems to be humming along this morning.

Carlos is working on the tile repair and if all goes well, I can take a long awaited bath tonight.  

Pedro just came by and brought his beautiful wife who's a housecleaner. (She looks to be about 21, but she's actually 41.)  She's going to get both houses back in order on Monday.  

They are trying to build their life back after losing their restaurant business and so if anyone needs someone to clean, let me know and I'll give you her contact information. 

Best Laid Plans #2

 Here it is 1:00 a.m. and I have moved twice.

The AC repair has a bit of a wrinkle in it--which the technician will return tomorrow to check out, probably no biggie.  I can't get the house as cool as I like it, but it's less annoying to be slightly warm than to sleep on a pallet in the casita with the smoke alarm chirping every second.  

So when I realized it wasn't going to be arctic in here, I had a nice evening in the casita, my pallet plenty comfy.

The smoke alarm is in the peak of the ceiling and I can't reach it.  On the way back into the house, carrying my laundry basket of stuff, the skunk scampered across the yard giving me a momentary fright, but I was a big girl and proceeded with my journey. 

Carlos got the hole framed in, but it began to rain and he probably couldn't use his tile equipment in the rain, so the tile work is happening, I'm pretty sure, mañana. 

For the second time this week, words of Macbeth came to mind: 

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day....

And then I think of Annie and her optimistic: 

Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow, it's only a day away! 

The best laid plans and all....

I was halfway to Helotes when I had to turn around and come home. The reaction to steroids (now pretty much gone) was making me feel weird and spacey.  So I came home, went to sleep in the casita, and woke up and realized I had left the car door open all night.  Fortunately, the battery's not dead. 

So now the AC man is on his way, and the house will hopefully be cooler after his visit.  

Kate just called and asked me if I was drinking enough water--which I never am.  "It's like the battery of the body and it doesn't work without fluid!"

That got my attention--and I wanted to share some Kate battery wisdom with you all!

Now I'm just hoping that my air conditioner problem is minor.  

Wednesday

 There's a thing called "steroid flare"--so just beware if you ever take them or have them injected into your body.  Steroids are heavy-duty drugs, but necessary in many cases, as they do put pain at bay.

You wake up with a red face and a headache, feeling anxious.  It passes in a day or two, just want you to know in case you ever have it that it's no big deal.  I'm taking a Benadryl and will soon be down for the count.

I'm watching Hollywood on Netflix--loving it!

I've made (or cooked from frozen under the packaging of Mrs. Smith) a blueberry cobbler to take to dinner at the Pritchett's tonight where I'll get to see the kids ride, I hope, and hear about middle school and third grade at home on the range. 

Knee Day

Dr. Skunda injected these antique knees with steroids today--an every-three-months protocol until the probably inevitable day of getting replacement knees. The pain is already reduced a lot and after a week I'll feel like a person with normal non-arthritic knees for a while. 

While out, I stopped by Target to get a bathroom scale to keep me humble and inspire me to stay away from donuts.  I was surprised to find a good old fashioned analog scale for eight dollars.  All the rest are digital and they give the stander a whole encyclopedia of information about the body, more information than I care to know at the moment.