The Perfect California Cottage...

I absolutely love this California cottage! It's fresh, colorful, eclectic, and just a little whimsical, without being over the top. It's a look that combines timeless elegance with casual comfort. It just looks happy!

Happy Mother's Day, Mom...

A Mom’s hug lasts long after she lets go.

~ author unknown

Occasionally I pick up the phone to call my Mom...when I’m happy…excited…sad…lonely…or when I just want to hear her voice. Then I remember…I don’t need the phone to talk to her anymore. Mom passed away three months ago.

So I just talk…and somehow I know she‘s listening. I sense her protective spirit hovering over me and I feel her reaching out to me through time and space. I feel her excitement when I’m happy and her concern when I’m sad. And I imagine what she might say to me. But oh, how I miss the sound of her voice…

Mom had Alzheimer’s. Her mind would come and go. But one day, in a cognizant moment, she said, “I’m not really afraid of death…I just don’t want to leave my children. I need to be here for them…to take care of them.” Then she looked into my eyes, took my hand, smiled, and said, “No matter how grown up they are.” That was my Mom…

When I was thirteen years old, I had a life-threatening heart defect that required open heart surgery. Heart surgery in 1963 was NOT like present day heart surgery. I was in the hospital for weeks, drifting in and out of consciousness. Mom never left the hospital. Even when I was in intensive care, and she could only see me for five minutes twice a day, she sat outside the door in a straight back chair…24/7…in case I needed her. That was my Mom…

The last time I visited Mom, she was extremely fragile. She was in the final stages of lung cancer, in serious pain, and her mind was almost gone. She slept most of the time, and when she was awake, most of our conversations made very little sense to me. But on the day I left, we hugged each other for a long time, and we laughed and cried. She said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t much fun…maybe the next time we see each other, I’ll be feeling better.” That was my Mom…

I think we both knew that day that we were saying goodbye for the last time. And even though I miss her…her voice…her smile…her laugh…I find comfort in knowing that she is finally at peace, and that she has a front row seat in heaven, watching over us with care and love.

Mom,

I know you had to let go...but I still feel your hug. Happy Mother’s Day to the best Mom a girl could ever ask for…

C

Good Medicine...Pampering Yourself

Do you ever have days when you just feel like taking it easy and pampering yourself? Yesterday, I had one of those days. The weather was glorious...warm and sunny, fresh and breezy.
I put on a cute outfit (read thought out and coordinated) and went to my favorite coffee shop for a vanilla latte. I sat on the covered patio (reminds me of the French Quarter) and read a few steamy chapters of Fifty Shades of Grey, then browsed through the magazines at the local bookstore.
Target ~ Bought a bright coral nail polish and a colorful, flowery scarf with tiny ball-fringe trim. (So out of character)
Highland Park Village ~ Just a beautiful, very upscale shopping area. I spent an hour or so at Anthropologie, and purchased a book called Kinfolk. The third volume of Kinfolk explores how we all might benefit from incorporating more of the things we love into our daily routines instead of saving them for the weekend or our next vacation. The essays and personal stories focus on welcoming food, community, and simplicity into our lives as regularly as possible. Check out their blog, www.kinfolkmag.com
For lunch, I decided that eating outdoors was the only possible option. With weather like this, why would anyone want to eat indoors? I sat at a bistro table under a huge oak tree at Celebrity and had a chicken panini with caramelized apples and walnuts with a refreshing ginger iced tea, and a lemon cookie. Delicious, and so relaxing...

After lunch, I went back to Anthropologie and bought some Tocca Florence body creme. Then I checked out some of the other boutiques. Loved Five and Ten, Molto Formaggio, and Stephanie Anne...tried on sunglasses at Peepers.

Chicken Enchiladas with Mole...

Ever since I woofed down a giant turkey leg doused in mole many years ago in Oaxaca, I've been obsessed with mole. Mole is a sauce traditionally made with chili peppers, spices, day old bread, nuts, raisins and about 20 other ingredients. But the key ingredient that makes it mole is dark chocolate. It's thick, rich, fragrant, smoky, and spicy, with a slight tinge of sweetness...a bit of heaven on my tongue.

When I'm in Memphis, I always go to Molly's La Casita for the T-Man Special...cheese and onion enchiladas covered in mole, with refried beans and rice. But here in Dallas, I've found what I consider the best mole around at a place called Dona Lencha, which just happens to be in my neighborhood. Yippee!

Dona Lencha is in Irving...at 1900 N. Story @ Airport Freeway. I like the casual, authentic, festive atmosphere, and I like that they serve things you don't find everywhere...like shrimp and octopus cerviche, grilled quail, and blood sausage.

But usually I get the chicken enchiladas with mole. It's my favorite and it's the Tuesday night special. Double Yippee! Check out my dinner last night...el cielo en mi lengua!

C

She keeps Moet et Chandon...and lipitor...in her pretty cabinet...

click…click…click…she keeps Moet et Chandon…in her pretty cabinet…’Let them eat cake’ she says, just like Marie Antoinette…

And so begins the song Killer Queen, my favorite song by Queen. Why? Because long, long ago in one of my previous incarnations, in a galaxy far, far away called NYC, it was the nickname given to me by my fabulous drag-queen friends. We’d just seen Queen at Madison Square Garden. And I was young…I was hot…I was a fox. All of the straight men wanted me and all of the gay men wanted to BE me. Really? I have no idea. But that’s the way I like to remember it…

I lived in a tiny apartment, in a scary neighborhood, with a succession of psycho roommates, knee-deep in sequined dresses and platform shoes. I had a lot of parties, and held court wearing a Japanese wedding kimono and a tiara. I served goldfish crackers and cheap wine to my guests…by candle-light…“because everyone always looks prettier by candle-light.” I didn’t have a pretty cabinet, but I did have a refrigerator painted hot pink. There was no Moet et Chandon in the fridge, and to be honest, if there’d been any cake in there, I probably would’ve been the one eating it.

I remember those years fondly, albeit I’m seeing them through the misty, watercolor, progressive lenses of middle age. I was so broke…and yet so glamorous. I worked all day in my dull, low-paying job, barely making enough money to pay the rent. But in the evening, I was the Killer Queen. I painted my face with glitter, slipped into silk and feathers and mile high shoes, and hit the dance floor. Sometimes literally hit the dance floor...I broke my foot twice.

At the end of the evening, we all got together to eat pastrami sandwiches, drink lots of coffee to quell the inevitable hangover, and watch the sunrise. And we thought it would last forever…

But disco died, we all grew up and got real jobs, and moved on. Still, every so often…like this morning when I was driving to CVS to pick up my lipitor…I turn on the car radio and hear…click…click…click…and I crank up the volume and sing along with Freddie...good times. :)

C

Together...

Recently I met a very nice couple, in their seventies. I had the opportunity to talk with them for a while, and discovered that he was from New Jersey and she was Swiss, that they lived back east in a lovely home with an idyllic view of a lake, that they had much loved children and grandchildren in Dallas, and that they had been happily married for over fifty years.

As we talked, I paid attention to what they said, but also noticed the unspoken things that were communicated in their expressions and body language…things like eye contact, a smile, a gentle touch on the shoulder, sweet little inside jokes…the connection they shared with their family…the way their thoughts and conversation just meshed. There was a sense of comfortable-ness between them…polite, respectful, playful, and relaxed. They were a couple with a history, in a marriage that had acquired the warm, soft-focused patina of age that becomes more meaningful and beautiful with time.

They made me think of my parents, who were married for sixty-five years until Mom passed away a few weeks ago. Like my folks, they are a couple who take their marriage vows seriously. They love each other, “for better or worse, in sickness and health, til death do us part"…not because they’re bound by social expectations or required by law to do so…but because their level of commitment to each other is so strong. They love…they care…they respect. Their lives truly have become one…and not in a bad, dysfunctional way. They are individuals, with individual interests, but they enhance each others lives in a way that just makes life better. They help each other through the difficult times and together, they celebrate the good. Not a bad way to live…

Happy Sunday! C

Another Day In The Life...

I woke up this morning to a beautiful, sunny day. My goal for the day? To find a dress to wear to a wedding next month that wasn’t black. (No, it’s not my wedding) Now, I have several “little black dresses.“ Any one of them would probably do. But it IS a wedding, and although I often find my reaction to weddings and funerals alarmingly similar, I decided to show my support for young love (first marriage for both) and wear a dress that was a little more optimistic and upbeat.

So I set out this morning on the hunt for a “not black” dress. First stop? The Original House of Pancakes. If you know me at all, you know that I do NOT shop on an empty stomach. I ordered a short stack, two poached eggs, and coffee. I took a photo of the tableware. (liked the design) and attempted to read the newspaper, but was absolutely transfixed by the toupee on a guy at the next table. “Did he think we were fooled?” Is he color-blind? “How was it attached?” “Was it flammable?” “Did he keep it on a little head on his dresser at night?”…my mind raced, pondering the possibilities. I riveted my attention to the pancakes, finished my coffee, and moved on…

I wandered through the mall, checking out the spring dresses. Yuck! So cute! So pastel! So flowery! So…happy! Don’t get me wrong…I’m happy…exuberantly so…but I like to dress in a more subdued fashion to allow my personality to scare people without any warning. It’s more fun that way…

I finally found an electric blue Calvin Klein sheath that didn’t make me look like a Tele-Flora billboard. It was sleek, sophisticated, not black, and created the illusion of a waistline. I bought it, and spent the next few hours taking photos of spring flowers…real ones. I went to Jake’s to eat a burger and drink sweet tea on the patio before it’s 9000 degrees…which, in Texas, will probably be next week. I’ll have to gauge my diet for the next month…can’t gain or lose too much weight or the dress won’t fit. So I skipped the sweet potato fries and the chocolate shake….

Now I’m free to enjoy the rest of the day. Need shoes…but that’s another day...

Happy Monday! C