That one episode of Frasier

So whenever I visit the Texans, Dylan and I like to play "You Don't Know Jack"--a game (I'll go ahead and say it) I often win.

Boo-yah!  IN YOUR FACE, KIDS.  YOUR MOM JUST OWNED YOU.  AGAIN.

The game gets violent sometimes, especially during round 3, otherwise known as "The Jack Attack." I frequently resort to kicking people in their thighs and so forth.

Anyway, Dylan (who is good at the game, it must be said, and sometimes beats me) beat me every time we played it  And . . . I think that made us all a little said.  It's like that episode when Frasier finally beats Marty in chess and then feels remorse for knocking the old mountain goat off the mountain.  Or something like that.

Is this a corner one turns when one turns sixty?

Vegetarian for a day

Here's the deal.  I'm just a natural born carnivore, and I always have been.  Meat is milk to me.

Anyway.  I just spent a few days with the Texas family in Houston (aka H-Town, Clutch City, Crush City, City of Syrup, Screwston, and you're welcome for this bit of awesome trivia that might help you answer a question on Jeopardy) where I had a great Texas adventure, which included wandering through Bluebonnets in bloom, watching the Astros destroy the Royals,  and eating gator.

Yes.  Eating gator.

We went to a place called Cajun Cafe where I ordered up a plate of fried oysters and fried gator just for the novelty of it all so that one day I can casually insert into a conversation the fact that I have eaten alligator.  People, I imagine, would look at me with newfound respect, right?

But I kind of lost my nerve over it and by the time the dish arrived, I was throwing up in my mouth a little.  Why is it that I can eat cows and chickens and turkeys and pigs but somehow feel sickened by the idea of alligator?

How did it taste, my brother Jimmy wanted to know.  Fried, I said.  Also fatty and fishy.  But as soon as I ate it I resolved to become a vegetarian which I have been all day long.

It must be said, however, I want a hamburger tomorrow.

Best pickup line EVER!

While at Shipley Do-nuts (please note the hyphen involved), my four year-old granddaughter was approached by a four year-old redheaded boy, carrying a toy lobster (?!) in his left hand.  He kind of waved it at her and then said, "I'm getting a sperm whale for my birthday."

He looked all kinds of pleased when he said this.

Reframing my weight issues

So, I had a fairly serious depressive episode last year (boo!) and lost twenty pounds (yay!)

Once I began feeling better I thought to myself, "Self!  Let's keep this here weight off."  And I did.  Until March.

Here's what happens in March.  Mrs. Backer's starts making hot cross buns during Lent, which means I have to go there every day and buy one.  Maybe two.  And then there are malted milk eggs to be had.  And then a certain birthday arrives.  And then also it must be said I start to crave hamburgers when the sun comes out.  So . . . . I inevitably gain weight in the spring.

And those twenty pounds I lost?  Well, they're rejoining the party that is my body.  Party on, pounds!

I've been distressed about this because I've always been that girl that had to/wanted to lose fifteen pounds.  Way, way, way lots of energy has been expended on the weight loss (real and aspirational both) front over the years.  And I've started to do that obsessing thing again.

But yesterday I had this thought:  why not feel pleased that I can eat again?  That food tastes good again.  That I don't have to dread food-related social encounters.  The pounds returning like homing pigeons are a sign that I am feeling well again.

Playing like a kid

This week Louise and I wrote about childhood pastimes.  I made a list.  I strongly urge you to do the same.

• Riding my bike
• Watching Gilligan's Island on summer afternoons
• Reading
• Climbing the foothills at the top of 4380 North
• Coloring
• Cutting out paper dolls
• Weaving hot pads on plastic looms with nylon loops
• Playing "orphans" with my neighbors
• Turning cartwheels on the front lawn
• Building dollhouses out of shoe boxes
• Having sleepovers and telling scary stories about Weeping Marys
• Tubing at Timp Haven in the winter
• Hanging out at the cemetery
• Daring boys to eat dirt or glue
• Sleeping outside in the backyard
• Watching for shooting stars and saying "another witch has died" whenever I saw one
• Swimming
• Playing dolls
• Roller-skating and skateboarding
• Walking and talking with friends
• Playing tetherball (gosh!)
• Playing football
• Playing hopscotch and jacks
• Reading Tales from the Crypt on my friend's front porch
• Swinging
• Singing into hairbrushes and pretending like my friends and I were the Monkees
• Going to matinees
• Getting dropped off at the Cottonwood Mall with friends because in those days Cottonwood Mall = Air-conditioned Babysitter

Recipe Box

I just finished a column about my recipe box and how all those handwritten recipes have a personal history that recipes pulled off the Internet just don't.  It was fun to go through my old recipes and remember me and my big hair in the kitchen when my kids were little.

I didn't put this one in my column because I figured it might buy me some trouble--trouble not worth causing--but I loved TRQ's recipe for "Vegetable Chow Ding."  I can imagine her discovering this one in the seventies when dang!  They started selling exotic stuff like canned "water chestnuts" (whole or sliced) and "bamboo shoots" in the grocery store where ordinary Americans could buy them.

Think of the possibilities!  Create a recipe.  Slap a made-up Chinese name on it.  And boom.  You're ready to go.

When TRQ was scary

On April Fool's Day, actually.  And on that day she was so scary.  SO SCARY.

I've written about this before, I know, but seriously if you had a mother who put dry dog food in your shoes and salt in the sugar bowl and green food coloring in your orange juice so that you thought you were drinking peas before you limped off to school (with dry dog food in your shoes), you would suffer from PSTD on April Fool's Day, too.

I will spend the rest of the day avoiding phone calls from my mother, y'all.