I love it when the whole Pritchett clan comes to stay for a day or two or three! I spent the morning with Luci and Nathan while Elena was at rock climbing camp. Will and Bonnie climbed too, along with practicing for an upcoming marathon. Luci adores Nathan (he'll be 15 in March)--and vice versa.
We all met for lunch at Osaka, then I napped while they bowled. When Bonnie and Will took Nathan to Helotes to feed his pig (to be shown and auctioned in January), Elena and I went next door to let the dogs romp. Carma's becoming a wonderful dog but has never liked little girls. Her bark is scary but we didn't know what she'd do when she met Elena. Our fearless animal whisperer worked her magic and won Carma over in five minutes. Soon both dogs were begging for her attention and kisses.
Will and Bonnie brought dinner from Cava's--Mediterranean food. We're now going to bed early so we can all be at camp at 9:00 to watch our rock climber.
I hear we're having a cold front coming in this weekend! Good--I'll get to wear my new fleece-lined jacket, the one I ordered after getting a taste of cold weather on our way to Durango, the one I may only wear twice a year.
Luci and I slept late--one of us had a bad leg night last night--so we're off for a short walk before Bonnie and Nathan arrive. They will visit until Elena's rock climbing camp is over at noon and then we'll all five spend the afternoon together, and they'll spend the night.
I've assembled the ingredients to make cannelloni for dinner unless we opt for eating out. It will be my first cooking venture in a good long while, so wish us luck!
My new friend Laren told me about Peaky Blinders, a series on Netflix, which I'm liking. And I have a new David Whyte book from Nellie to start listening to on our walk. It's going to be a good day in Texas--and I hope the same for all of you!
Christmas 2021 was a most enjoyable day!
I drove out to Helotes to see what Santa had brought Elena--Nathan at his other dad's house this year. From Santa she got Air Pods, a skateboard, and some horse tack; from her parents a new horse riding helmet, shoes, and other things. She was, as always, thrilled and thankful for everything, either still believing in Santa Clause or pretending to in the spirt of the game.
A blanket from Aunt Day and family
Bonnie made yummy pecan pancakes, then we had a big noisy group FaceTime with our Virginia family and a virtual tour of their almost-finished kitchen remodel. Will worked in the afternoon and I came home and had a nap and long phone visit with Carlene.
At sunset, the sky brighter red than it's been all year, my across-the-street neighbor came over and we visited on my porch for three hours. I've always liked him so much (for the two decades we've known each other), but until lately we've mostly visited on the go. Don't we all love those times when nobody is in a hurry and we can discover a whole new level of friendship?
While he was here, another neighbor brought a plate of Christmas dinner, scrumptious tenderloin and green beans, mango mousse and apple crisp. It was my favorite kind of party--spontaneous, great people, and dinner made by a real chef.
All these years as neighbors and I'd never known that she owned a restaurant I loved back in the day--The Greenwood, a small and always packed natural food cafe near SAC. Remember alfalfa sprouts and avocado sandwiches on multi-grain bread. carrot cake and vegetable stews? This was The Greenwood, one of my favorite places to meet friends for lunch in the early Seventies!
When we buy a house--or are given one as a gift, as I was one unforgettable Christmas in the late 90s, we also land in a neighborhood; meet each other's grandchildren and dogs; and can be there for meals and errands (as it was turn to discover in spades this year) when one of us, say, cracks her noggin on the pavement. I could never have imagined a sweeter place to live than this!
Luci and I wish a Very Merry Everything to all our beautiful friends who are like family and to our scattered (Georgia to Virginia and Texas) family of Harrises, Learys, and Pritchetts.
This year especially, after all your support, I am grateful for every one of you and so thankful for your calls, groceries, cookies, emails, errands, gifts and visits. (I won't include a photo of myself on this Christmas card--I still look ghastly but am feeling almost just fine!)
I hope that all your houses are filled with whatever brings you joy and let's all hope together for a better year in 2022 in the world!
We left San Antonio Friday afternoon and drove as far as Lubbock where we spent a night in a pet-friendly hotel. Yesterday morning, Elena and I were outside with the two smaller dogs and I fell smack dab on my face on a concrete curb. Glasses flew and I lost my grip on the leashes. Elena helped me up, then her parents found us, me with a baseball-sized bump on my forehead. The ER doc did a cat scan and said I wasn't allowed to go into high altitudes with a concussion, so we headed back home.
I am so disappointed that they (and I) had to miss the long-awaited ski trip. I spent last night at their house, then they brought me home tonight where I will rest until the swelling goes down.
The doctor said I'd feel pretty awful this week, but I actually feel okay--except I can't read or write very well, thus the huge font. Hopefully, tomorrow I'll get my glasses fixed or get some new ones.
Apologies for not calling or texting back--my departure and packing have taken up all my Texas time. Luci and I are all set with winter clothes (a sweater gift to her) and are now ready to go, sans skis. I won't be skiing, but I look forward to the hotel next to the river where we can walk, three blocks from downtown Durango. I'm also excited about a drive to Molas Lake between Durango and Silverton, a place that is iconic to us from my children's growing up years, where we met the Kots when Linda and I were still in our thirties!
A lifelong friendship (and trips to Cape Cod and from CC to Texas) was forged in the week we shared at Molas Lake!
I may or may not keep up with the blog, but am hoping to send snow and shivery pictures as we leave Texas on a hot and muggy day.
Bonnie and I have been friends for forty years. She was my brilliant, funny, beloved professor at UTSA when I decided, at 32, to go back to graduate school. She's still brilliant, funny, and beloved, and we're both seasoned (and possibly wiser?) by forty more years of living.
You may recall that she and Deb Fields wrote a book called Wonderful Old Women and asked me to photograph an assemblage of fascinating vibrant women over 80 whom she and Deb had interviewed. They decided to keep the word, Old, to claim the reality of age and to counter the offensive "little old women" trope.
In 2021, Bonnie got a new hip and I got a new knee. Retired from UTSA, she's still teaching a Zoom writing class to seniors (who never want to miss her class) and she goes to the gym four days a week.
Our friend Gary died eight years ago. After his diagnosis he was told he could expect two good years--which he had. I still think of him when I drive past Demo's where we used to meet for lunch when he drove into San Antonio to do his piano gigs. He never met an animal he didn't love and he and his wife fed deer out of their hands outside their house.
So, Bonnie wondered, what would we do if we knew we had two good years to live? She'd asked a few other friends that question and they had ready answers.
As we reflected on that question, neither of us wanted to change our lives in a dramatic way. I'd like to go back to Italy--but until and unless COVID is ever a thing of the past, international travel seems virtually impossible.
We're settled into a place we love--we both see Texas politics as repugnant, but we love our circles of old friends. We prefer quiet visits with one or two or three good friends to parties. We know that old friends are not replaceable.
This has been a fun Elena weekend--starting with Friday night's lighting of the tree at Helotes City Hall to the music of a band and the Helotes Elementary School choir. Here's our girl (10 in January) at the concert.
Yesterday she participated in a small rodeo--only 8 or 9 riders. The event specified the pattern (side-walking the horse, slow-walking, opening a gate and closing it, etc) for each ride. Elena was by far the youngest participant and she did great!
Today is Part 2--this time faster moves.
Luci's mama must have taught her litter to observe good boundaries. Luci is not the most obedient dog--she does things her own way and in her own good time--but she doesn't cross my sleep boundaries, which is one of the best things about her. I give her the same quiet when she sleeps in my bed for twelve hours, and I wake up in the middle of the night. It's tempting to pick her up, but she prefers being left to her dreams. If I watch a movie, she burrows under the cover without complaining.
Because she's so little, she has a small footprint, so her errors in judgment are not big deals. She doesn't touch my shoes on the floor--except for the furry bedroom shoes which she treats like surrogate puppies. She cuddles against them, but she also shakes them and throws them hoping to entice me to play the game of Get The Shoes Back.
If she were a German Shepherd or a bear cub, we'd have to have a few more rules.
She was most likely taken away from her mama too early--either by accident or by being chosen by some previous humans. Then somehow she was separated from those who took her. I'll never know her history because she doesn't speak English, but will be forever grateful to Janet for finding her for me at SNIPSA.
When I take a bath or brush my teeth, she watches carefully to see if this might be a day I'm going to leave her for a long long time, like two hours, and she's going to have to sit by the Christmas tree in the window the whole time and wait.
Luci has what the dog books call Separation Anxiety. If she knows for sure I'm leaving, and if I don't say "Come on!" (words she loves) and if I say instead, "You stay, I'll be back," (her least favorite words) she literally trembles. She follows me from room to room. Her idea of a perfect day would be a walk with Freda or me followed by a lot of hugging, then a late afternoon romp with Carma. Both dogs know when it's time for their playdate and beg Jan and me to make it happen.
Jan got them advent calendars at Trader Joe's, each day with a treat. They get so excited when they see the advent boxes coming out!
I'm off to a birthday lunch at Cappy's to celebrate Kate's birthday, then tonight to Helotes to hear the 4th grade Christmas music.
Happy Birthday, Kate!
Watching a Julia Roberts oldie last night, it occurred to me that it's about time for a love affair. The banter between two lovers is electric. Mutual fascination flashes so brightly it lights up every room. To hear a handsome Englishman say "You're bloody gorgeous" must be downright intoxicating.
On further reflection, I decided that a more realistic love affair is the one Julia Roberts' character, a professional photographer, has with her camera. I've barely used my camera since COVID, but I got up and took it out of the closet, first step, and decided to see if together we, my camera and I, can fan the embers of times past, fall in love with picture taking again.
Little did I know in the wee hours of the morning what the day would bring--an invitation for Luci and me to join Will, Bonnie, Elena, and their dogs for a trip to Colorado in a couple of weeks! It will take me that long to assemble a wardrobe for cold weather, but I'm so ready to hit the road with them and start the photography adventure on the road and in Colorado.
I was shopping at Trader Joe's when the phone rang: "How do you feel about a road trip in December?" Will asked.
How I feel is over the moon!
Yesterday was such a beautiful day and I needed to return an online order to Anthropologie, so decided to drive out to La Cantera for a sunshine walk with Luci.
Little kids were stopping me to pet the doggie, my defenses were down, and I was taken by surprise by the rush of one of those kiosk sales people who appear out of nowhere and press a silver package of moisturizer into your hands.
(I later realized she was standing in the doorway of a fancy store--no customers--to pounce on passersby.)
I know to avert my eyes and walk faster when I see these kids-to-me selling whatever they are selling, but I didn't see this one coming.
She really liked me and could tell I was a smart person; she loved my dog; I reminded her of her mother; her products were in high demand, organic and made in the U.S.A. The effects of these miracle products would be immediate and all my friends would notice the drastic changes.
She glanced around pretending to avoid being heard by her co-workers and whispered: "I will tell you a secret but you have to promise not to tell. Today only, I can give you my employee discount...."
Just today, she said, she could drop the price of the $1200 bottle of eye cream to $399 AND throw in two more products for free AND I would get a free consultation with the skin expert of the world. As an employee of the company, she had had to wait six months to see him, but as it happened--my lucky day--he was in the store today. Today only.
Suddenly said expert appeared to help her close the sale.
"You know who he is?" she asked, her eyes flashing excitement to deliver the news.
No idea. Most valuable player of some team? Idol judge? Movie star? I give....
"He's a regular on Dr. Oz!"
That was enough to send me doing my best limpy impression of a run. I had just read that Dr. Oz had thrown his hat in the ring for Senate, that he was distancing himself from those awful "elites" and their awful mask mandates.
I wouldn't buy a peanut from your star skin expert of the world is what I wish I'd said. But instead, I made a fast exit to the parking lot and was out of there, just me and my dog and my wrinkles.
