Who doesn’t like all of these things????
The food was great, the bread to-die-for, the service cheerful, the music (New Orleans blues?) perfect.
It felt like Austin, but it was Sandpoint.
Who doesn’t like all of these things????
The food was great, the bread to-die-for, the service cheerful, the music (New Orleans blues?) perfect.
It felt like Austin, but it was Sandpoint.
You may wonder why we’re wearing house dresses. You think we’re too young for these outfits, don’t you?
Yes, we are.
I cannot remember if I’ve blogged about this particular tradition before. Indulge me if I repeat myself.
Years ago I was complaining to my Montana Friend Kathy about the expectations placed upon women of our age. We had to stay slim, have arm muscles and flat abs, wear cute clothes, color our hair, blah, blah, blah.
Our grandmothers, I explained, had it easy. They let their hair go gray, wore it in permed curls, covered their expanding (and expected) girth in comfy house dresses, wore stockings up to their knees, comfy shoes and sat with their knees apart.
What was our generation doing wrong? I wailed. Why couldn’t we let ourselves go and not be judged? Our grandmothers had been so smart!!!
I didn’t know my Montana Friend Kathy had absorbed this particular venting of mine until three years ago, when my daughter-in-law was pregnant with my first grandchild. Kathy presented me with a gorgeous gift bag filled with…a house dress and knee-high stockings.
She admitted she bought herself one, too (at Walmart, where they are still sold) so nothing would do except to have a party and wear them.
Which we did, along with Montana Kathi (not the same person as Montana Kathy) and Dancing Mandolin Player. Montana Kathi found a vintage house dress in an antique shop, but wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to be photographed in the darn thing.
We drank a lot of wine on the dock that year. Gourmet appetizers, swimming, laughter…and we sat with our knees apart, because our grandmothers did.
Last year we did it again, only this time we talked my French Friend Janou into wearing her aunt’s antique French house dress and attending. And we wore our grandmothers’ jewelry and brought old photos.
We drank a lot of margaritas on the dock. And yes, there was gourmet food, swimming, laughter and we sat with our knees apart.
This year we did it again. We toasted the generations before us and we ate dinner from my mother-in-law’s china.
And we love our house dresses.
I think we need to start a trend. Ladies, go to Walmart, buy a house dress, put on your grandmother’s costume jewelry and give me a call. We’ll make ourselves comfortable on the dock and talk until sunset.
Saturday night Dancing Mandolin Player, her Boyfriend Bob and I went to Town.
That’s right, a Saturday night IN TOWN. We came down from the mountain, off the peninsula, around the lake and into town.
First stop, a restaurant/resort area called Forty One South to hear our fellow band member and his musician partner sing.
Second stop: a play at the Panida Theatre. I’m not sure what to say about the play, except that I’d never seen anything quite like it before. I’ll leave it at that.
Third stop: back home.
There is only one more summer Saturday night left, which is hard to believe. Thunderstorms Sunday night brought in clouds and the cool-morning feeling of Fall.
How did that happen so quickly????
I just saw this video*** in a fellow quilter’s blog and had to share it.
I keep wondering what former farmer Banjo Man would have said if I’d had this idea for whiling away the hours while plowing the family’s fields.
Not that I’ve ever plowed any fields, though I think I rode on the tractor once.
***if you are reading this via email, you may have to go to the blog site to watch the video!!
The huckleberries were ready early this summer. Everyone who hunts/picks them has staked out their favorite–and very secret–huckleberry pickin’ areas up in the mountains.
The price this year? $42.00 per gallon.
Despite the high cost of these yummy berries, we can’t get enough.
You know that Harley Chick and Hot Rod Russ were here last weekend.
Wanted to share this with you:
Click here for recipe on the FatFreeVegan website.
I made it last night for a potluck lunch/dinner today, and though it took a little time to put all of the ingredients together, it was worth it.
I left out the Kalamata olives, though, and used Litehouse’s Huckleberry dressing along with the fresh basil and walnuts in the food processor.
Pictures later…
The Hope Mountain Blues Band had our weekly music lesson Tuesday. We sang this song for an hour and a half.
Don’t you love it? We do.
Then we decided to do something completely wild and out of character: we actually postponed our errands and grocery-shopping and important appointments and went out to lunch.
Dancing Mandolin Player ordered a Bacon Cookie and made us share it with her.
I have a lot of pictures from Harley Chick’s visit last weekend to share, but tonight I’m going to bed early. I have a lot to catch up on, I know, so be patient with me.
Okay, so…Texas feet. That’s what I say when my feet hurt, which is usually in Texas. And no, not because I’m wearing new or used cowboy boots. I have bad luck with shoes and sandals, and walking on Austin’s uneven sidewalks and standing at music venues gives me “Texas Feet”.
Today I drove Banjo Man to the airport in the Great Big City a hundred miles away. I was sad. Banjo Man was sad. Kiss, kiss. Wave, wave.
And then I grabbed the GPS to find my way to Lenscrafters, because my glasses broke again this morning. The arm of one side is broken and sometimes the screw comes out. I need new glasses, but I haven’t had time (since last December, according to the new prescription) to get them. Huh. Where does the time go?
So I went to the Great Big Mall on the way home. I haven’t been to a mall in years, unless I count the twenty minutes in Austin for my Darling Grandson to have his picture taken with the Easter Bunny. The kid frowned at the big white rabbit the whole time. Hilarious.
Anyway, I parked in front of the food court doors and wandered around like a homeless person until I spotted Lenscrafters. They couldn’t make me new glasses if I picked out new frames because something was out of stock. But the woman replaced the screw in my old glasses and I was good to go.
But first…new shoes??? I had that new pair of black Crocs but they were more of a winter style, and hot, so I thought I’d look for something like sandals. I limped into a discount shoe store and found a pair of Dr. Scholl sandals with a gel heel. Heaven. I bought them, but there was a sale that was “Buy One Get One Half Price”, so the salesclerk (who couldn’t quite believe I didn’t want to shop for a second pair) gave me a rain check card for a half-price pair.
I splurged on fried prawns in the food court. And watched the kids and mothers shop for school clothes. They all seemed very calm, which isn’t what I remember about shopping for school clothes, but that’s another blog post for another day.
A question about Mall Etiquette from a non-maller: Is it okay to approach a stranger with three children to offer your half-price shoe coupon to her?
The coupon was refused. Politely.
I moved on, with the help of the GPS and google, to a Crocs store 8 miles east, near Cabela’s.
It turned out to be a dead end empty lot at the edge of the Cabela’s parking lot. So I went into Cabela’s, hoping that there would be Crocs there. And there were a few, very large camouflage-print Crocs. I was tempted, of course, so I would look good on my next bear hunt.
Back in the car, with a Cabela’s diet coke and no Crocs, I asked the GPS for directions to a quilting store.
According to the device, it no longer existed. Or never had. I decided to go there anyway, because I needed something specific to finish a quilt top and it was on the way home and what a shame if that store had gone out of business like so many other quilt shops had.
The GPS was wrong again, only this time that was a good thing. I found the fabric I needed and hurried home to the lake and the mountains and the woods.
Off to fiddle a little while…and put my feet up. It’s good to be home.