MMM, MMM, MMM. TASTY!

Homemade vanilla frozen yogurt, with just a hint of cinnamon. Perfect topped with fresh peaches, or perhaps alongside one of my Mexican Chocolate Streusel Brownies.

YET ANOTHER JEWELL UNCOVERED

Not long after we bought our house, I wandered into the Village Library looking for books related to Wimberley's history. I found a lovely little tome called Wimberley: A Way of Life, by Linda Allen. Turns out Ms. Allen is a woman of many talents, for not only does she write books and poetry, she has also been one of the premier caterers in these parts for quite some time.

A year or two ago, I guess she decided to branch out, and needed more space. I noticed that a cute little stone house just past the library was being renovated, and a sign went up that read Linda Allen Catering, and Fine Foods To Go. Well what do you know? We've got our own little Eatzi's, right here in Wimberley!

I kept meaning to go in and pick up a few things, but somehow never got around to it. Then I noticed something in the paper, saying that they had added some dining areas for those who preferred to pick out their items from the case, and consume them there on the premises. Still, I didn't stop in. Then I started noticing the cars. Lots and lots of cars. Finally my curiosity got the best of me, and John and I decided to have dinner there. We've been kicking ourselves ever since, for all the time we wasted!

My picture really doesn't do the food justice, I'm afraid, but the salmon patty special that evening was outstanding, and included dessert and a beverage for less than ten bucks each. Next time I went back, I got a veggie plate, because there were so many amazing sides and salads that I was itching to try. By the way, quinoa salad with apricots, edamame, pistachios and dried cranberries? To die for!

UP TO MY WOO-WOO

For those of you who followed the saga of our water-catchment system installation all those months ago, I am sad to report that we have not yet been able to switch our pump over from well to tank, to begin supplying our whole house with cloud juice. I'm not sure what the magic requirement is, but the guys from Tank Town say we still don't have enough water in our tank to make the switch. Every time we get the least bit of rain, I immediately run out to the tank, and knock on its side to see how far up the water reaches. Next, I run back into the house, call John and report, "It's ankle-high." Then calf-high. Almost to my knees. Approaching mid-thigh. Finally he said "Tell you what. You let me know when you've got water up to your woo-woo. Then I'll start getting excited!"

AND THE WINNER IS.......

RITERGAL! Congratulations Ritergal. If you will just send your mailing address to me at becky.lane(at)vownet(dot)net, I will get your prizes in the mail A.S.A.P.

By the way, if any of you readers have ever had the urge to put pen to paper, be sure to check out Ritergal's wonderful blog The Heart and Craft of Life Writing.

GOING, GOING...

Today is the last day to get your name in the hat for these fabulous prizes, so leave a comment before midnight if you wish to be included in the drawing!

SUCKY CHOICES

Well, things are about to get a bit hairy back home in Dallas. As you know, my parents and my oldest sister combined their households a few years back. It worked out fairly well as long as Dad was still alive. He waited on Mom hand and foot all day, and did as much as he could to help Carolyn around the house. We never in a million years would have guessed that he'd be the first to go, and when he did, things went downhill fast.

The thing is, you really need to pay attention to people when they advise you about "creating a monster." From the day Dad met my mom, everyone kept trying to warn him. They all said "Bill, you're spoiling that girl. Better watch out, or someday you're gonna regret it!" Did he listen? No, he did not. So you see, it's not really Mom's fault that she became accustomed to having breakfast in bed, water brought to her when she was thirsty, "tea parties" prepared for her when she was hungry, things fetched for her when she didn't feel like getting up, and, well, you get the picture. Not only do people get used to being waited on, they also begin to expect it as their due. So, when Dad passed, Mom just assumed that my sister would become her lady-in-waiting, and it really didn't seem to phase her that Carolyn still needed to work full-time, in order to keep a roof over their heads, or that Carolyn had just had a knee replaced, then a hip, or that she deserved to have any kind of a personal life.

Eventually, it got to the point where my sister's health and sanity were at risk. We got help to come in and watch Mom during the day, but then she somehow got her days and nights mixed up, and took to wandering the house all night, and waking my sister in the middle of the night to demand food or to clean up an accident. Mom's health was deteriorating as well. There were days when she'd refuse to get out of bed or take any of her pills, and her doctors said there was nothing left they could do for her. So, we began the process of getting her approved for medicaid, to get more help for my sister, and to be prepared for the time when Mom would need to be moved elsewhere. To tell you the truth, we were all praying that she would just slip away peacefully, before we ever had to make that choice.

We just found out a couple of weeks ago that Mom qualifies for assisted living, but that it could be nine months or more before a place was available. The next thing we know, they are calling to say "We've got one now!" So, here we go. Wish us luck. Right now Mom seems to be looking forward to it. She has always loved to decorate, and is already busy planning how she is going to fix up her little apartment. But if we start getting pitiful calls in the night, once she's moved in, saying "Please, please, come get me!", I just don't know what we'll do.

VIVA LA MEH-HEE-CO!

Do you recall my story about the day I met Jeannie Ralston, The Unlikely Lavender Queen? When she shocked the pants off of me by saying that they had sold their amazing house and lavender farm in Blanco, and decided to move to a small town in Mexico, how did I intuitively know that she was talking about San Miguel de Allende? It was because I had just finished reading On Mexican Time, by Tony Cohan. I saw myself in both Tony and Jeannie, recognizing fellow seekers of "the good life."

In 1985, when L.A. novelist Cohan and his artist wife decided to explore a little known 16th century hill town in central Mexico, it was not yet overrun with tourists and expats. In fact, there were no direct flights there and you arrived by bus. Once there, they caught a glimpse of another way of life, and fell under the spell of "What if?" So they went back to California, sold their house, and returned to San Miguel. They did eventually buy and restore a wonderful old house there, but that is not really the focus of this story. A reviewer at The Tennessean said "this is not so much a travelogue as a gentle reminder to examine our lives and weed out the unnecessary, the chaotic and the frivolous." Books abound these days about people shedding their old lives and finding bliss in paradise, but this one is a bit different, a bit deeper. I think Cohan tells it like it is, without the rose colored glasses that are donned by so many.

So, if you would like to win this wonderful book about finding your heart's home, and then finding yourself, just leave a comment between now and Sunday night, and your name will be thrown into the hat for our drawing. In addition to the book, I am including four chili pepper napkins, and a small journal to use in your travels, or however you see fit (and I just might fill in the first few pages with my recipes for Mexican Chocolate Streusel Brownies, Easy Pralines and Cholula Spiced Pecans). Good luck!