WRAPPING UP A DANGEROUS YEAR

Believe it or not, our Year of Reading Dangerously has drawn to an end. We've certainly covered a lot of territory, haven't we? We've traveled to Nantucket with Sarah Lee Chase, Tuscany with Ferenc Mate' and Frances Mayes, Provence with Peter Mayle, San Miguel de Allende with Tony Cohan, and Venice with Marlena de Blasi - to learn the importance of having a sense of place, and of rediscovering the taste of place. Then we joined Barbara Kingsolver in Appalachia to discuss the importance of knowing where our food comes from and how it was raised. We simplified our lives, then spent time with Tasha Tudor and Sarah ban Breathnach learning to mine our authentic selves, and time with Julia Cameron, learning to mine our inner artist.

For our final give-away, we will be returning to France. I saved this book for last, not because it was the best, but because it is about something that ties everything else together - attitude. It's about that one thing that most of us are striving for, but will probably never achieve, because it's not to be found on-line; at the mall or at the bottom of a glass; in a hefty bank account, a position of power, or an all-consuming career. It's an attitude that seems to be sorely lacking here in the U.S., but which many of the French have developed into an art. They call it Joie de Vivre. Joy for Life.

Could you use a little more joy in your life? All you have to do is leave a comment here, any time between now and Sunday night, and your name will be added to the hat for this, our final Year of Reading Dangerously give-away. Joy, Joy, Joy!

THE COLOR SIREN CALLS

This isn't at all what I was cruising the thrift shops for this week, but something about the patina just reached out and grabbed me. How could I walk away from that mottled blend of terra cotta, pumpkin, and amber? Never mind that I never make layer cakes, only sheets. When the siren calls, (and the price is cheaparino) this girl's gotta answer.

THE LINE HAS BEEN DRAWN. WATCH OUT FOR YOUR TOES!

Well, the truth is out. Lex let the cat out of the bag, on the phone the other day, that her dad put her in charge of making sure I don't "dilly-dally around" with getting the new Cantina Garden planted up, the way I usually do. Grrrrrrr! Them's fightin' words in this household, and anyone who tries to push me on this project is liable to lose a hand.

As you may recall from this story, John and I have some serious schisms when it comes to gardening philosophy...or decorating...or just about anything that involves filling any kind of space, for that matter. Lex hit the nail on the head when she said "Now Mom, calm down. You and Dad just have different styles when it comes to learning something. You like to study up in advance, consider all the possibilities, list the positives and negatives of a situation, and not make a move until you've come up with the perfect solution. Dad needs to just jump in head first, and (hopefully, occasionally) learn from his mistakes."

OK. Fine! He's got four whole acres here to jump around in and mess up to his heart's content. But. Not. Here. Not in our Mexican Courtyard Kitchen Cantina Garden! It's gonna evolve slow and easy, and not one thing will be planted until I'm certain it's just the right plant for that particular spot. But rest assured, once it's done? It will be stupendous!

RESCUED

The uber tow truck arrived in the nick of time - for the cement guys to get everything poured, and for me to get to the gym (and to Mima's in time for my chicken fajita taco lunch - after all, it had been 5 days since I had one, and a girl can only go so long). Best news of all? The house is back on rainwater! Turns out someone had shut a valve on the tank that caused the pump to lose its prime, which then triggered the emergency shut off. And though the gauge on the side of the tank appeared empty, it was actually just so full that you couldn't see a line anywhere. So...all's well that ends well.

UH - OH, or, SO GLAD I'M NOT IN CHARGE OF THIS PROJECT

Cantina Garden Mishap #1: Cement trucks are difficult when it comes to making sharp turns. Now the back right tires are in the ditch, and the front left are in the air. Not good.

They're gonna need an uber tow truck to move this sucker. In the meantime, do you think my Mini can squeeze past, or should I just give up on going to work out today?

BOGATA BLISS

My nephew Kevin is another one who always felt somewhat out of place, both in Dallas, and in our family. He hated our Martha-Stewart-Style holiday get-togethers, which were more about impressing people than about making them feel welcome and comfortable, and as soon as he was old enough, he opted out of coming to them altogether.

He went through several years of hell-raising, and being considered the black sheep of the family, then he met a beautiful brown-eyed girl named Goya. She took him to visit her family in Mexico, and instead of being treated like a pariah, he was suddenly a king. After all, he was smart, generous, handy with his tools and willing to help out wherever needed. He loved to cook and eat, made a real effort to learn Spanish, and was the most fun-loving, gift-toting uncle in the world! At last Kevin had found the kind of family get-togethers he could really get on board with - ones that were more about sharing than outdoing.

Growing up, we usually went to my uncle's northeast Texas ranch, near Bogata, around rodeo time. (That's pronounced buh-GO-duh, not BO-guh-tah. Remember, we're in Texas!) For us city girls, it was a bit of an ordeal. We never were too crazy about tromping through the fields, climbing under barbed wire (I had more ripped britches!), falling off haystacks and horses, and landing face down in the mud, or worse. My dear cousins got quite a kick out of watching us, though. And Kevin? Well, he adored it, and could never seem to get his fill of spending time up there. Eventually, he and Goya bought a piece of property nearby, and did much the same thing that John and I did - transitioning from the city bit by tiny bit, until finally they got the nerve to cut themselves loose altogether.

We spent all day Saturday in Bogata, helping them celebrate their 20th wedding anniversary. Instead of raising hell, Kevin now raises chickens, doves, goats, and veggies (have you ever seen pumpkins growing up in a tree?), and instead of watching TV, he watches sunsets from his porch, and sunrises from a little boat on his pond. He has morphed into the king of family get-togethers, and has most certainly found his bliss. Let's all raise our glasses to Kevin and Goya, living the good life in Bogata, Texas!

CANTINA GARDEN UPDATE

Framing up the base of the fence and the bridge over the ditch.