CONSTRUCTION WRAP-UP

Looks like the stone-masons, electricians, concrete guys, stucco-ers, welders and carpenters have all completed their various contributions towards the construction of our Mexican-Hacienda-Courtyard-Kitchen-Cantina-Garden. Guess that means the ball is back in my court, huh?

I suppose I need to come up with a plan, or something...and I promise to jump right on that - just as soon as I manage to clean up all the freeze damage in other parts of our yard, wind up all my unfinished Christmas preparations, figure out what to do about a couple of January birthdays (one of which is a BIGGIE, on New Year's Day!), take care of some overdue Bountiful Sprout business, and do some prep-work for that blogging panel I agreed to co-host in early February. In other words, don't hold your breath!

P.S. One of the workmen put those two itty-bitty pots on either side of the entry, just because they happened to be nearby. Hopefully, we can come up with something a little more interesting, and a little more to scale, later on.

FUNERAL ETIQUETTE

Is it wrong to laugh at a funeral gathering? If so, my family has a serious problem! It seems that no matter how hard we try, we can never manage to stay properly somber for more than a few minutes, once we're in the company of all our crazy/wonderful cousins. The only time we ever see them anymore is at funerals, so it's the only chance we get to catch up with what's going on in their lives. Of course, one thing always leads to another, and sooner or later someone will say "Remember that time when Bubba did so-and-so...". After that, it's just a matter of time before someone slips up and lets out a guffaw.

I really don't think Mom is holding it against us, though, for as I recall, she got called down for doing the very same thing at her own mother's funeral! In fact, the way she loved to entertain and throw parties, I think she's probably pleased as punch with the send-off party that my big sister managed to pull together at a moment's notice, where even the salsa was served from crystal, and where everyone was having a grand ol' time. I'm pretty sure she'd say "You done me proud!"

OUR BAGS ARE PACKED. WE'RE READY TO GO.

We never got the promised snow yesterday - just a half hour or so of light flurries - but this morning it's only 20 degrees out, and my usually-waving field of grasses is frozen still and grey. The deer that just wandered across barely paused along the way. Apparently a cold, crunchy breakfast was not to their liking.

The sun is coming up though, warm and clear, and before long they should be able to satisfy their empty tummies. What was so drear and depressing just a few moments ago, is being transformed. If you are a Twilight fan, picture the way Edward's skin began to glisten, the moment he stepped out into the sun of that Italian piazza. Perhaps the author was inspired by a scene such as this.

Our bags are packed - we could leave any time - but I think I will sit here in the sun a while longer... gather its warmth around me like a shawl, before heading off to face what the weekend has in store for us.

A PASSING OF THE TORCH, AND SOME TIME AWAY

We were planning to go to Dallas next Friday, to celebrate an early Christmas with my family, but yesterday afternoon I got a call from my sister, saying that Mom had taken a turn for the worse - had been unresponsive the entire day. So, when the phone rang again at 3 AM, I knew exactly what I would hear.

I haven't really come to grips yet, with the fact that she is gone. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I don't begrudge her passing - she had a good long time here on earth, outliving her husband and most of her friends and siblings. She was never one to deal well with pain, either, and yet that was all she had to look forward to upon awakening each day. Her vision, hearing and sense of taste were all but gone. Truthfully, I am happy that she has been released from her misery, and have great faith that she has gone to a better place.

And yet...it's just so hard to wrap my head around how quickly she went downhill, once we moved her out of my sister's house - especially since I didn't see the daily progression, as my sisters did. Most of all, though, I can't seem to digest the fact that my siblings and I are no longer "the kids." We are now "the old folks." John and I have just been promoted to patriarch and matriarch of our own little clan, and there is no longer any buffer generation separating us and the great beyond. Kind of scary, don't you think?

I will do my best to tie up loose ends today, then Lex and I will be heading up to Dallas. Not sure when I will get back to the computer, but I will be back, that is certain. Please keep checking in.

TAMALADA!

Well, the Muses have been at it again. Now that we've mastered gnocchi-making, we decided it was time to tackle tamale-making. Outdoor Woman invited us over to her house today (on her birthday, no less) for an afternoon of chopping, mixing, patting, rolling, steaming, eating, sipping of mulled cider, and a whole lot of laughing. Oh yeah, and a yummy white birthday cake topped with a thick layer of my dreamy praline frosting:

Combine 1 c. brown sugar, 5 T. butter, 1/4 tsp. salt and 1/3 c. milk in a saucepan. Boil slowly for 3 minutes. Cool. Add 3 cups sifted powdered sugar and 1/2 tsp. vanilla and beat until thick enough to spread. Add nuts or coconut if desired.

In case you're wondering about the third picture, well, Fiber Woman is what you might call height-challenged, and when she asked for assistance in reaching a glass, she got way more than she bargained for!

A SHOCKING CHRISTMAS TALE

One of those pinecones in the pics from yesterday is an oldie from my childhood, and was one of the few ornaments to survive "the incident" - the time when Mom told me to crawl behind the tree and plug it in, and the son-of-a-gun shocked the living daylights out of me...which of course, made me jump...which of course, knocked the tree off balance. I'm surprised Mom was even willing to pass one of those pinecones on to me, 'cause I'm fairly certain she still holds a grudge about all the ornaments that were lost that year. Like it was my fault that Dad probably did his usual thing of splicing and duct-taping a humongous wad of plugs together, in order to fit a thousand plugs into a single outlet? I mean, really now!

Anyhoo, I always loved those pinecones, and the way they had a bit of snow on the tip of each shingle-like doohicky, but I never really thought about collecting them until one year when I went on the Christmas home tour in the Historic Heights area of Houston. What a blast! They hold it at night, so you can enjoy the magic of all the twinkle lights, and old-timey trollies do a continual round of all the houses on the tour, so you can just hop on and off at your leisure. In the end, everyone winds up back at the old firehouse, for refreshments and the annual charity wreath auction. Each of the local merchants would contribute one, and that chicken wreath above is one of the many that Buchanan's contributed over the years, made by yours truly.

This particular year, there was one precious little bungalow that had been entirely decorated in nothing but pinecones. It was amazing - the owner must have bought dozens every year for 30 or 40 years! A bit over the top for my taste, but maybe one new one per year would be nice, don't you think? But none of the expensive ones for me, thank you very much. I don't plan to hold any grudges, if somebody accidentally knocks my tree over one of these days!

ME AND PINECONES? WE'VE GOT A THING GOIN' ON!