Side Dish

I can't remember my password.  The last few times I tried to create a blog, I have had to change it.  Perhaps I could write more?  Yes.  Quite.  I go through about 15 "could be" passwords from names, birthdays, dog names, mystery words, old address', current dress sizes, lotto numbers,  dream dress sizes, movie star names, movie star's dog's names.  Surely I would remember something that odd.   Nope.  Try to log in, forgot password, create new one, send to my email address, do not write it down anywhere, forget, try to log in, repeat.   Glad to be back, though.  I created a new password now that I will never forget.  I even wrote it down.  Last password was "remember password".  Ya think that I would. 

So a beautiful summer here in Texas.  We have had an abundance of rain.  The last week or so we settled into our normal pattern of hot as sh$&*,   but we can still frolic in the green grass.  At least for another week or so.  Then it's frolic in the brown hay like stuff on our front lawn.  Not even frolic..more like crunch.  One can not frolic in the heat and the crunching of dead grass.  There will be no frolicking come August.  Unless of course the Gods of the Weather Channel lasso a storm and bring it our way.  It could happen.    I will never take water for granted.   We were using up our precious lakes last year.  We can see the remnants of a serious drought, even with steady rain.  Big islands in the middle of the lake, where there were none a few years back.  We planted tomatoes this year.  I know..no big deal for our Midwest friends and family..but a pretty big deal here.   Picking ripe tomatoes in your back yard is a luxury.   Eating a tomato with actual taste is divine.  Divine.  Only rich women and gay men use that word to describe things.  "Oh Dahling..that is Devahne".  I am neither.  I will still use it to talk about our tomatoes though.  We planted a basil plant in the front yard.  Basil can withstand the heat.  But it is growing into a basil bush from all that rain.  If when you pass by, brush your hand across it, it will make you smell like a caprese salad for an hour.  I like that smell.  Makes me think of Morton's Steak House, where I used to work.  They had huge tomatoes, beautiful basil and buffalo mozzarella, plated beautifully on an off- white dish, drizzled with balsamic vinaigrette.  Yes, I think of that every time I walk by the basil,  the wild growing bush of an herb.  Oh and you should see our rosemary in the back yard!  It's like Jack and the Bean Stalk.  I will climb it tomorrow and see who I can find in the clouds.  Maybe I will find Elvis.  That would be fun.  And funny.  Elvis in the Clouds.  Now that is the name of my new band.  Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds..Elvis in the Clouds with Pancakes.  We will have such a time.  Rich ladies say that too.  "You will have such a time at Cotillion".  Anybody go to Cotillion?  Do you know what Cotillion is?  Manners class & dance class.    At least that's what Luke tells me.  Did I go to Cotillion?  In a round about way, I guess.  I was in pageants.  CCC..Crash Course Cotillion.   I had to quickly learn how to be courteous during ribbon cuttings,  Elks meetings and Civic duties.  I was not to say things like "Bitchen" when something was,  quite nice.    I actually think it would be a great idea for kids to attend.  I actually think it would be great for some adults to attend.  Learn manners, Fox Trot, courtesies.  I will put up a sign in our local Walmart.    Oh here's an idea..Cotillion for Dummies.  Big seller, for sure.  They actually used to teach manners in public school.   At least that's what I read when I looked up the correct spelling of Cotillion.  Imagine.  Manners class in school.   Starting in Kindergarten.  That just might be the answer to many,  many problems.   

Back to tomatoes.  Our friend Bill Worrell, artist, sculptor, musician, poet and tomato growing prince, gave me some beautiful vegetables this past weekend.  He loaded us up with Big boys, yellow squash and okra.  I know what to do with the first two..but I am okra-phobic about the third vegie.  I  would know what to do with rhubarb, the queen of all pies and cobblers.    I would know what to do with a radish too.  But okra has me a bit stumped.  It is long and pretty and green and pointy and quite slimy.  I have never developed a taste for it either.  I tried my best when I lived in Nashville..but it never took.  So here I have this bag of okra that Martha Stewart would flip for.  She would have already made a main dish and decorated the table with the leftovers.  With tea lights and antique linens.  Martha most definitely went to Cotillion.  She is it.  She is the queen- mother- Cotillion- spirit- guide of the 21st century.  So okra.  When I walk by the bag of green on my kitchen table, I do not flash back to Morton's Steak House or California orange groves or our garden in South Milwaukee.  I flash nowhere.  I just stare and feel like I have nare a Southern root in my body.    The only Southern I have is California.   I do not ever remember even hearing the name okra when we lived there.  We did have an avocado tree in our back yard.  And a fig tree.  Both of which I think belonged to the neighbors, but hung over on our side.  Avocados were a mystery too, when we first moved to So Cal.  But damn..what a perfect fruit.  I loved the avocado.  In all of it's shapes and forms.  I remember my folks making shrimp salad and putting it in that beautiful green boat.  Guacamole still makes me cry.  I have had buckets of guacamole over my lifetime.  I would never say that as Miss Garden Grove, but seriously..I have.  One does not say, "Buckets of Anything" while wearing the crown.   But delicious avocados..I dream of thee.   Not so much your southern distant vegetable cousin.  Why the slime?  Really.  Somethings just do not need to be..eaten.  Now all of you koonasses are going to yell at me the next time you see me..but I will eat your precious gumbo..just not your funny vegie in it.  No offense.   I'll make you a rhubarb pie.   We will be friends.  You can pretend to like it and I will pretend not to spit out the okra in the napkin, placed oh so carefully on my lap.

So what's with all the food talk?  I guess I am really just enjoying the bounty of green surrounding us.  It feels good.  People are in pretty good moods.  They do not have high water bills as of yet.  It's actually a pleasure to take a walk around the block.  I do think we should dig up all of the grass and plant food.  Better use of our Mother Earth.  Also,  I kind of want to hold things close these days.  Feeling most grateful to have a life of art, music and a great circus of friends.   Food makes me think of parties.   Parties make me clean my house.  A clean house makes me happy.   Being happy makes me want to cook.   Come over tomorrow.   We can stare at the okra.  Better yet, you can have it.  I will trade you for any vegie that you bring.   Except beets.  Little dark red balls of ink...oh no..here I go..



Monday  July 23  11:50 pm