Mi Familia de Mi Tierra

From Fredricksburg to Mi Familia de Mi Tierra,  we had four days of Texas fun.

If you're old enough to remember the original downtown Mi Tierra, this is its offspring.   It has lots of the vibe of the original, still in business, and we loved it. 

Day and I remembered going to the original when Will was hospitalized at Santa Rose.  We had Shirley Temples and tacos and a tiny break from the week of hospital walls, but we were worried about our baby--who had been born there two weeks earlier and developed, at 8 days old, a mysterious and frightening temperature of 104.  

Throughout the years, Mi Tierra was where we took guests--just across from the mercado.

https://www.tripadvisor.es/Restaurant_Review-g60956-d19409577-Reviews-Mi_Familia_de_Mi_Tierra-San_Antonio_Texas.html

Mama doesn't drink much, maybe one half a beverage a year.  But since Day was driving, I enjoyed a half of a raspberry margarita--and a yummy seafood plate.

One of my new favorite places is the Hill Country Herb Garden in Fredricksburg--where we had lunch on Friday;

https://www.hillcountryherbgarden.com/

The best part of all of it was spending time with five members of mi familia--Day and Tom (their first trip without the boys) and Will, Bonnie, and Elena. 

Long story short, packing the most we can into four days!

 

Sisters in the Curl World 

Herb Farm in Fredricksburg

"It's been a quiet week at Lake Woebegone," to borrow the famous phrase of Garrison Keillor. 

Busy, but quiet.  Getting the house ready for Day and Tom's arrival tomorrow.  Postponing painting the exterior due to mold testing--which came back as normal.  Moving into the casita to free up the house for Day and Tom.  

I mentioned a few posts ago the book, The Kingdom the Power and The Glory/ American Evangelicals in an Age of Extremism by Tim Alberta, an excellent book that traces the decades of planning to turn American into a "Christian nation." 

"I'm a proud Christian Nationalist," said Marjorie Taylor Green in the Ron Reiner documentary, God and Country.  Trump--seemingly not a religious man of any stripe--did not start this movement, but he gave it its scary microphone.  He claims to be "chosen by God" for the United States presidency.  Far right evangelicals have "anointed" him as their king, savior, strong man, you name it. 

It's heartening to see so many Christians saying that "Christian Nationalism" is a perversion of Christianity and a threat to Democracy.

The far right claims that we've "always been a Christian nation," that the framers of the Constitution prayed when they gathered to write this document.  Many current and former Christian leaders reject these as false.

Bishop William Barber says they are "so loud about what God says so little about and silent about what God says a lot about"--giving examples of many myths passed on as facts.  The Bible, for example, says nothing about abortion or homosexuality or book banning--yet these are the talking points and obsessions of the current MAGA party.  

A Different Road, A Change of Scenery

For several months, I have begun every day at the New York Times. I'd scan the news, then move right on to the word games.  

While I enjoyed the games, they activated my obsessiveness and gobbled up countless hours. So I decided to do my version of  joining Word Gamers Anonymous and admit that I was an addict. I canceled my subscription entirely, even the news--thereby also banishing print reminders that there is Trump in the world. 

What I'm doing instead is re-joining the Handmade Book Club. We're doing a challenge this week that sends us classes and zoom links every day.  Ali Manning is an excellent teacher if you like learning everything there is to know about creating and binding books--which I do.

I also found inspiration in a gift from Nellie that arrived in the mail yesterday--a beautiful tiny book about hummingbirds.  I'll ask her if I can photograph and share it with you in a later post.

Sometimes it's revitalizing to abandon some things to make space for others.  Here it is two in the morning, and I'm stacking paper and getting ready for a few days of cutting and gluing, punching and stitching.  

The Handmade Book Club  is only open to new members four times a year, and the challenge is the time to join.  For $25 a month, members have access to a tremendous archive of classes, some taught by Ali, some by guest bookmakers. 

Retreat at Port Aransas

Three friends and one little dog spent three nights at Port Aransas, another in a long line of retreats over the past fifty years, at least for the three humans--Beverly and Mary Locke and I!

Tom and Mary Locke are putting their beautiful beach house on the market next month, so we wanted to squeeze in one more get-together before someone buys it.  We picked the perfect time.  Wildflowers in pinks and purples and yellows are blooming in profusion, roadside quilts.

Luci was afraid of the stairs.  No way she was going to descend that long staircase, no matter what!  For the first two days, she cocked her head and looked at me like I'd lost my mind when I asked her to come down or go up. 

Until Saturday night, when we went out to dinner, leaving Luci in the upstairs apartment.

When we returned, Luci heard my voice and bounded down two flights of these scary stairs lickety split, all the way to the street! That's how it is with dogs--no obstacle is steep enough to keep them from  their people. 

We watched two movies (The Holdovers and American Fiction), we shopped at a boutique we've liked for years, we walked on the beach, and we refilled our tanks with delicious seafood and conversations.   

Purple

A Poem By Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

********************************************************************

Shortly after this poem was published, women all over the country started wearing purple dresses and red hats and lunching together.  They called themselves "The Red Hat Society."  

They were taking Jenny Joseph's poem literally.  If you ever saw ten women around a lunch table sporting purple and red, you know that it was a sight to behold, but too contrived to be interesting. 

The point of the poem was not that we all should wear purple dresses and red hats, but that old age might be a good time to flout conventionality and wear and do and be all the things we always secretly desired. The Red Hatters were, in my humble opinion, simply creating a new conformity, all dressing to match.

The reason this poem came to mind is that I'm picking paint colors for the exterior my house.  One of the colors I considered briefly was some shade of purple, trimmed in vanilla.   Maybe a hot pink door and yellow shutters.  

Or improve on the current stark white with a prettier white trimmed in charcoal and gold, with a door that matches pomegranate seeds...you get the picture.  

There's also the question of how my house speaks on the street.  She doesn't have size or architectural impressiveness on her side.  So she relies on colors around her, on her skin, and inside to express herself. Hot pink crepe myrtles soon.  Purple mountain laurel, now budding.  Yellow Esperanza. Blue plumbago.

Inside, a party of those same colors, rendered in paint and fabric.  So what is the costume for this season on the outside?  It's a sleep robbing decision, but it's mine to make. It starts next week, so I have a few days at the beach to decide. 

No one else but Luci and I will drive up to it every single day and notice--and according to research a dog's visual acuity with color is not her sharpest feature.  Passersby will either love it or hate it, if they notice it at all.

How I dress my house is important to me.  I hope I do her justice. 

One Day

The art show was inspiring, colorful and just delightful to see what so many artists do with ostrich eggs!  Joy's two were Best in Show if I were the judge, but there were no judges, just a roomful of artists and art-lovers having a good time admiring beautiful transformations of eggs!  I'll post pictures when I get some good ones. 

It's so unusual for me to be out at night mingling with friends and people I hadn't met before that I'm too jazzed to sleep.  I may be up all night. It's four in the morning and I'm halfway through an intriguing series on Netflix.  

One Day follows two people, Dex and Emma, through twenty years, each episode focusing on one single day.  It's based on a novel by the same name.  I love it.

Dex and Emma begin a friendship on the night of college graduation.  The plot, the music, the characters--it's so emotionally rich with yearning, anger, heartbreak--and whatever is yet to come.  No spoilers here, just a link to a song that you'll remember from back in the day: 

Anyone Who Knows What Love Is, Irma Thomas

Meandering on a March morning

According to expert dog trainers like Cesar Milan, I break all the rules Dog Mamas should observe. I am not the Alpha around here; I've never been stellar at Alpha.  

For Luci, a walk is not a Walk Walk, it's' a Meander.  We are so slow no other dog walkers would care to walk with us.  Luci stops to savor the scents of whatever interests her.  Poles, fire hydrants, flowers--I never know what's going to set off her doggie nose and send her into a few moments of sensory delight. She was born knowing it's good to "stop and smell the roses."

She glances at big dogs with mild curiosity and caution. When she sees little dogs like herself, she whimpers with excitement and pulls the leash forward for a sniff and a greeting.   

This morning she and Marfa were mutually thrilled to see each other, tails wagging and both bounding happily in the direction of the other like old friends.  How do dogs know which dogs they want to get to know?  Marfa is a mid-sized mix of blue heeler and border collie twice Luci's size, but the vibe must have been right for a potential friendship.

When Luci takes the lead, I meet so many people.  I liked Marfa's dog mama, Riley as much as Luci liked Marfa.

Then we chatted with another neighbor, mama of Louie, and she mentioned she was off to vote.  Turned out we were on exactly the same page, politically.  The dogs don't care either way, but we're planning to celebrate together if our party wins. 

At intersections, Luci has started protesting the direction I had in mind and pulls in another direction.   We go her way.  

We walk past lots of houses with Alamo Heights High School mules and signs, announcing the sports the kids play or the instrument in band.  A new-to-me house this morning has a cement Christian saint in its yard along with two faded flamingos.  Next door, a garden Buddha and a "stop gun violence" sign.  Across the street, two giant lemon yellow bunny rabbits in the window and a big felt shamrock on the door. 

As we walk, I think about Cosette, Mia, Val and Leo.

It's because they enrich our lives in so many ways that it's so terribly sad to say good-bye.  I can't even think about that day coming and I hope it's way far away.  For now,  I savor all the moments I have with this tiny little being who's my constant companion.  

The Rainbow Bridge

In the last few months, four beloved dogs, belonging to three of my friends and their families, have crossed the Rainbow Bridge: 

Cosette (Mary Locke and Tom's), 

Mia and Val (Janet and Bill's) and

Leo, just a few days ago (Bonnie and Grant's Airedale.)

We love our own dogs, and we love each other's.  It's unspeakably wretched to lose a pet who's loved us without conditions and brought so much joy.

In the Disney movie, Coco, celebrating the Mexican Day of the Dead, or Dia De Los Muertos, the theme is family. As long as we remember and talk about those who have crossed over the bridge, they live on and on.