I Hope I Look This Good at 106!

Last month, Bruce's grandmother turned 106 years old! Nearly the entire family gathered in Missouri to help celebrate.

Granny can't see or hear all that well, but she has all her wits about her, and she has the hospice workers walk her around a bit during the day.

I put together a short video to show how we celebrated this incredible milestone!

A Small Personal Note

Some of you know that my mother-in-law is undergoing treatment for lung cancer. Her treatments have been going well, and she got a good report at her last doctor's appointment.

We got a call yesterday. She is now in the hospital with a stroke. Both we and Bruce's sister (and her hubby) are here.

I'm pleased to report that there is much improvement today. She recognizes all of us, and although she's having trouble expressing herself, she can laugh and mostly understand.

I appreciate your thoughts and concerns. I'll be posting updates to my Facebook page for family and friends. I won't post many updates here.

Big Changes in Store for Laura

Many of you know I own an association management firm, Bray Communications. Over the past eighteen months, my entrepreneurial passion has waned (much like our ever-decreasing aquifer), and the days have moved from “fun” to “drudge.” Never a good sign.

In the last eight weeks, three of my top four clients abruptly cancelled their contracts. Mom always spoke of “finding the arrows” to your life’s path; the arrows that appeared this summer clearly illuminated one choice—time to move on.

As I shut down association management operations, I will find new solutions for the five remaining clients. Fortunately, my four-year employee Melodie expressed a great desire to take over the contracts, and I have strongly encouraged my clients to continue working with her.

I greatly anticipate my September visit to see sisters and nephews without worrying about needy boards of directors, whiny members, or calls from “Chatty Cathy” prospects.

So….what’s next for Laura? I don’t really know, but I plan to enjoy finding out.

For now, I will take some time off and figure out where my path leads. I know for sure that I must find something. I just don’t know yet what that “something” is. I feel like I’ve bought a coloring book and need to find my crayons to start filling in the pictures.

I have two book projects in the works (a historical fiction novel and a secret!), and I will devote a lot of energy to my two blogs, Alamo A La Carte and Mighty Marine Mom. While fulfilling, I need a goose that lays at least a small golden egg.

I covet your thoughts and ideas as I find my crayons. Maybe “the next thing” hasn’t even crossed my mind.

Many, many thanks go to my wonderful and supportive friends, not one of which has said, “What?? Are you crazy??” I deeply appreciate the rock of support and encouragement from my family (sisters, nephews, and in-laws). I find constant inspiration in our son Sean, who has excelled at US Marine Corps boot camp and plans to serve his country. Once he recovers from his initial shock at my decision (I won’t tell him until we see him next week), he too will give me lots of hugs and support.

Most of all, thanks and love to my amazing husband of 28+ years, Bruce. When I lost the three clients, I faced the daunting task of finding others to replace them. But that felt like a zombie had passed by and stolen my soul. I worried about telling Bruce; I needn’t have. He has been loving, supportive, and completely understanding. I love you very much…..even when you miss your aim at the bowl and blop chocolate mousse on my shoe.

Sometimes the best journeys don’t involve a map. Stay tuned!

My Spiffy New Logo!

Many, many thanks to my talented friend Shauna Forkenbrock, who designed the spectacular new logo you see above! She also designed the new header for my other blog, Mighty Marine Mom.

If you'd like to get in touch with her about design work, please visit her website.

Thank you SO much, my dear friend!

Food, Friends, and Fun!

What a weekend! Friday evening and Saturday morning with amazing friends, and a Sunday cooking up Hatch ideas! I was in seventh heaven on Sunday night and didn't particularly look forward to returning to work on Monday.

How many of you can say you have a lifelong friend? I mean....really lifelong? Some of you, maybe, I'm sure, but not many. I am one of the lucky ones.

Lynn (pictured) and I have been friends since we were two years old. Our dads worked together at Humble Oil and Refining (now ExxonMobil), and our moms were pregnant with our younger siblings at the same time. Lynn and I were bestest, best friends; we were in the same first grade class.

Our families moved to Houston together, but they only stayed a year and moved to New Orleans. We kept in touch via snail mail (remember that?) over the next few years.

When my grandmother asked where I wanted to go on my seventh-grade trip, I hesitated not a bit. "New Orleans!" Grandmama looked somewhat surprised (not your typical seventh-grader's travel request, after all), so I explained why.

A few weeks before our trip, Lynn's father died in a tragic accident. The family moved to Scottsdale shortly thereafter; I never did get to see her. I enjoyed the trip, but the soul had gone out of it.

We saw each other a few times over the years, and I asked her to be a bridesmaid. The older we got, the longer it went between visits. She last visited over 15 years ago when we were in Virginia. Then we kinda lost touch.

When she found me a couple of years ago on Facebook, I cried and cried. We re-established contact and invited each other to visit when in town (she's in Colorado). And lo and behold, she visited San Antonio.

The best thing about lifelong friends is how easily you slip back into conversation, even after all the years. We had a great time catching up with each other.

We all enjoyed a fabulous dinner at Tre Trattoria (@tretrattoria). You definitely want to go with friends and order several dishes to share. They aren't "small plates" (like Bin555), but the dishes are meant to be passed around the table. The entrees come in both small (two servings) and large (four servings) sizes. We devoured a chef's market salad with black cherries, cannellini beans, asparagus, and wagyu meatballs with house-made pasta. The sweet onion sformato (sort of like a souffle, but not as airy) tasted smoky and fresh. We were simply all too full for dessert.

Lynn and I both promised each other that it won't be 15 years before our next visit!

The very next morning, our friends Shauna and Mike arrived bright and early at 7:30 am so we could enjoy watching a stage of the Tour de France. We had the TV, Mike's iPad, Shauna's iPhone, and my laptop all tuned into the action. Although the stage was not as decisive as expected, we still had a great time sharing all the hilarious comments on the various feeds. (From Twitter: "Confirmed: Jens Voight crashes on the descent; mountain suffers a broken collarbone." He was fine.)

Since he doesn't really care about the Tour, Bruce agreed to fix us a fabulous breakast (pictured). Cheesy grits with peppers, salmon croquettes, poached eggs, and hollandaise sauce, accompanied by an asparagus salad with vinaigrette and goat cheese toast. The acidity of the asparagus salad perfectly offset the richness of the salmon and eggs.

This is definitely another date next year!

And our Hatch experiments? Well, you'll just have to wait for a report on that one. :-) Everything is still top-secret.

I am truly blessed to have such great friends. They have made all the difference in getting through this challenging summer (see my other blog, Mighty Marine Mom), and I love them dearly.

Please Permit Me a Slight Detour

Some of you know that my son Sean reported to US Marine Corps boot camp this week. I have started a new blog, Mighty Marine Mom, to chronicle the summer (he graduates August 19).

For the most part, I won't belabor his (and my) Marine journeys here; that's why I started the other blog. But I thought some of you might be interested, so I wanted to post here.

Next up on Alamo A La Carte: traveling to Disney with two young nephews, and guest tweeting at the KLRN Blazing Gavels Auction! Along with anything else I happen to discover.

Prepping for the Big Trip

My sister Robyn and her family usually visit Walt Disney World for about a week each year. This time, for various good reasons, her hubby couldn't take the time from work. And Robyn can't really manage both her sons ("Thor," age 9, and "Loki," age 4; of course those aren't their real names) by herself. Well, sure she can, but not at a theme park. Poor Thor wouldn't be able to ride anything that Loki couldn't ride. And Thor does enjoy his rides.

I'm not sure how the idea crossed her mind, but a few months ago, she called and asked if I wanted to tag along. I had been considering a fanciful trip around this time anyway (given that my son Sean will be in USMC boot camp and I will be wanting to think about other things), so it took me all of two seconds to say "Sure!!" (Side note on the USMC item: as soon as Sean approves my first post, I'll launch a new "Marine Mom" blog....stay tuned!)

I haven't been to WDW for probably 15 years. Needless to say, it has changed. A lot. Early hours and Fast Passes didn't exist then. (And I'm amongst that demographic that remembers "E ticket rides," so I go back a bit.) Heck, there wasn't even an Animal Kingdom last time I was there. I've wanted to return for some time, but I'm much more of a Disney fan than Bruce, so it has never happened.

And there's a lot to be said for doing WDW with young ones. My nephews and I are very close, even though I'm in San Antonio and they're in north Texas. I don't know if I'm more excited or they are.

I am not worried about travelling with "the boys," or being around three people for six days straight, or even the daily noise. (I work from home, so I'm accustomed to long periods of silence and solitude. Katie the Beagle is a loving and playful companion but isn't much on conversation.) What worries me is my stamina.

WDW may boast a monorail, an impressive bus transportation system, and even boats. But what I do remember from last time is that you walk.

A LOT.

And for six days.

Hmmmm.

My exercise program has fallen by the wayside of late, an unacceptable state of affairs for this trip. So I have resolved to restarting my 3x/week gym visits from now until the day I leave. (And hopefully beyond, but I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.) That's the only way I'll have a chance to keep up with big, strong Thor and uber-enthusiastic Loki...not to mention their mother.

I just hope they don't leave the doddering 50-year-old aunt/sister in the boats at "Small World." Please. Anything but that.

Sean’s Terrible Horrible No-Good Very-Bad Day

I tweeted a few days ago about watching “Independence Day” and thinking of my son, who busted a lip and a front tooth while watching it 14 years ago. “Long story” I said. And here it is.

The day didn’t even start well. Excited about playing Aslan in his summer camp’s production of “The Lion Witch and the Wardrobe,” he bravely donned the costume I made….in which he more resembled a daisy than a lion. During the play, one of the kids untied him, and the plastic end of the jump rope whipped around and smacked him right in the kisser. That should have been a warning.

Since Sean was only 10 at the time, Bruce and I pre-screened ID4 to ensure appropriateness. Only one “boo shot” (a family term): when the alien wakes up in the isolation room and starts running amok. Sean always trusted our “boo shot” judgment, and he and I went out for a pit stop right before the scene started.

I waited in the lobby, and after a while, an usher came up and asked me if I had a blond-headed son. Why yes, I do. “You better come with me,” he says. Oh dear.

Turns out Sean got into too big of a hurry, ran to the bathroom, and tried to open the heavy metal door. With his face. Gashed lip, broken front tooth, blood everywhere, howling 10-year-old. I had him sit with the usher so I could retrieve Bruce from the theater.

Four stitches and several dentist visits later, repairs were complete. He boasts a wee scar on his lip, and half of his left front tooth is fake, although you can’t tell by looking at it. Our church pictures that year feature him in his Webelo uniform with a closed-lip smile, so the big ugly silver brace wouldn’t show (the dentist removed it later). I always warned the youth director about the tooth prior to the ski trip, knowing that if he face-planted on the slope, the fake tooth would snap clean off. Youth director panic was not required, I told her. Sure enough, he came home one year all snaggle-toothed and very proud of it.

He calls it “the cursed movie” to this day (he’s now 25; pictured). And I think of him every time I watch it.

Victoria, British Columbia: He Brought Me Back!

First of all, I hear you asking, "Why are you sitting around your hotel room writing a blog when you could be out enjoying Victoria?" Two reasons: 1) Victoria is a very walkable city (more on this later)...which wears a body out. One must take breaks now and again. 2) Victoria is currently suffering a heat wave. They are all melting at 81 degrees. This sound positively glacial to those of us in Texas...but the upshot is, most shops/pubs don't have AC. The only place to reliably cool down is the hotel room.

Two years ago, Victoria was a short, last stop on our 25th anniversary Alaska cruise. We debarked at 6:00pm, decided to pub crawl on our own, and I instantly fell in love. I made Bruce promise that he would bring me back, since we had only a very few hours. So when I laid the "mystery trip" on him (see last post), this was the result. (Yes, I had guessed it.)

We flew into Vancouver and took the 1.5-hour ferry ride across to Vancouver Island. After finally figuring out how to check into our hotel, we quickly got settled and headed out.

If you come here (and by all means, you should), I highly recommend a hotel downtown or very near downtown. Victoria is one of the most walkable cities in North America, by design. It has a very English, European feel (also by design). After leaving the car with the valet yesterday at check in, we haven't retrieved it since. (We will tomorrow, for a day in wine country, and on Sunday, for a day in Vancouver.)

Most shops, pubs, and restaurants in the downtown area cluster around the inner harbor and the main boulevards that branch off it. We quickly found my favorite pub, Irish Times (photo), where we enjoyed two Canadian beers and a dozen delicious Effingham oysters. We wandered down the main street (Government St) and rediscovered the lovely Empress Hotel, built in 1908. Their Bengal Lounge feels like an Imperial outpost in India (unfortunately, right down to the heat; no AC dearies). Bruce felt compelled to enjoy a gin and tonic. We also ordered a delicious lamb satay with a sprouted bean salad.

We planned one more pub stop, but couldn't find a cool (as in temperature) one, and by 8:00 local time, the walking, heat, and a 4:30am wake-up call had taken their toll. We dragged ourselves back to the hotel after a marvelous day.

Next post: our day of whale watching and a terrific meal at a local "gastro" brew pub.

Our Mystery Vacation...to Me, Anyway

A few months ago, my fabulous in-laws called with a can't-miss offer...a nearly free week at their condoshare in Maui. If you haven't been, you need to go and soon. Friendly people, breathtaking natural beauty, cooperative and beautiful weather—it has it all. I am usually ready, at the end of a vacation, to get home to my own bed. Six years ago, Bruce had to drag me off the island kicking and screaming. Imagine my irritation, then, when we compared schedules and could not find one week between March and September that we could both take off.

In a fit of pique, I told Bruce, "I'll give you some dates. I want you to book us a long 5-day weekend somewhere. You make all the arrangements. Here's your budget. Don't tell me anything else." So he did.

We leave tomorrow, and it is ridiculous how excited I am. Yes, I could find out if I wanted (I pay the bills, and the airline ticket is listed on the Amex statement). But what fun is that?

I have a few guesses, which I am keeping to myself. I must say, though, that my latest guess, based on the few things that Bruce has told me, is looking very good.

He told me to pack a swimsuit (which I would have done anyway) and a light jacket. He has made only one arrangement at the final destination; he didn't want to overplan. Fine with me. He says the weather is looking good.

My only complaint (and it's a small one)....I'll miss five days of the Tour de France. But Shauna promises to send me text updates on important developments.

I'll blog at least once or twice while there. Wish me "bon voyage!"

Hurricane Memories

A bit off-topic, but I find myself wandering down Memory Lane with the approaching storm. I wanted to share some hurricane memories with you…..nice ones, as it turns out.

I grew up on the Gulf Coast, in Houston; hurricane tracking is in my blood. Every summer, my dad picked up a Gulf tracking map at the grocery store at the start of the season. When a storm spun up, he’d religiously watch the evening news on KPRC, both at 6:00 and 10:00, and carefully record the latitude and longitude, read out by weatherman Doug Johnson, of any Gulf storms. Dad then sat at his desk (now upstairs in my study) and carefully recorded the new coordinates on a map. The National Hurricane Center website maps all hurricane tracks for the past several years at the click of a mouse. I remember tracks meticulously penciled in, tacked to Daddy’s office closet door. (And yes, he’d save them over the years so he had a history. It will not surprise you to learn that Daddy was a scientist…a geophysicist.)

In all the years I lived in Houston (1968-1979), a hurricane never landed. We did, however, experience some depressions and storms. One year, a tropical storm landed on the night of our annual cherished tradition, an excursion to a game between the Astros and the Cincinnati Reds. Now, mind you, these were the classic Reds….Johnny Bench, Joe Morgan, Pete Rose (when he was “Charlie Hustle” instead of “Wagered on the Game”). I hovered at the front door, watching the rain come down in sheets and worrying what Daddy would say about heading out to the game when he got home. When he arrived and declared the trip off, I just burst into tears, completely involuntarily. Really. I wasn’t (and still am not) given to fits of sobbing, but I just couldn’t help it. Bless his heart, most dads are mostly helpless in the face of such fits, and off to the game we went.

We walked to the Astrodome from our car in the midst of this roaring storm. The umbrella lasted about five minutes before turning inside-out and collapsing; we were soaked through by the time we got in. Then we froze to death in the air conditioning. I must say…..those were the best seats we ever had at an Astros game; the place was deserted. We quickly abandoned our second tier seats and sat right along the first-base line. It was fun to listen to the players banter back and forth, something I’d never heard before from distant seats. And we also learned a peculiarity of the Astrodome…it leaked like a sieve. Probably still does.

And it’s not just father-memories. A storm was the only event that drove Mom to bake bread from scratch. To this day, the smell of baking bread reminds me of an approaching storm.

My heart goes out to those in the storm’s path. Here’s hoping this is a light one.

The Great Father's Day BBQ Subterfuge Caper!

Ok, technically, this isn't really about San Antonio food/arts/travel (although it does involve a barbeque grill). But I hope you'll enjoy a fun story about friends, misdirection, and surreptitious deliveries.

Bruce has been making noise for months now about needing a new grill. Note the very correct use of the word "need" rather than "want." The trusty old grill had served well for 12 years, but was beginning to get a little, well, rusty, in a very literal sense. Burning down the house when the bottom gave out is not how I want to accomplish "a memorable meal."

He expressed a desire for a dual gas/charcoal grill, and I burned a lot of gas running hither and yon trying to find such a thing. (He really wanted a smoker too, but I gave up on a three-fer pretty quickly.) Finally located a suitable model at both Alon Market and Lowe's.

Next step....I needed to have him remove two of my minivan seats. (Two asides here. One: yes we have a truck. But I loathe driving it; the game would have been up in a flash if I'd asked to use it for any reason. Two: as it turned out, I should have had him remove all four seats. There is a reason I never pack the car when we go on vacation. My spatial skills, to his enormous irritation, are completely nil. More on this later.) This one was easy. I simply told him I needed to make a "client stuff delivery" on Friday. While technically true, I really didn't need the entire back of the van. But he didn't know that.

Next....I needed to get him out of the house on some reasonable pretext that wouldn't arouse his suspicions. I enlisted the aid of friends Karen and Kyle, and we quickly settled on Kyle asking Bruce to go see a movie, something they often do. He called on Friday and gave Bruce some cockamamey story about Karen kicking him out during housework (or maybe not so cockamamey, I don't know), and the date was set.

Next...enlist aid of friend to go pick up grill and get it to house. I picked up Tom just after Bruce left, and we headed for Alon. It quickly became apparent to Tom, Dave the drugstore manager, and the bagger that this crazy woman had no idea what she was doing. There was no way that grill was going into that space. I was contemplating options (such as running home and taking out the other two seats, and going up to the Palladium to switch the van with the truck), when Tom saved the day. They tilted the grill sideways and managed to cram it into the back of the van. It stuck out the back a bit. Helpful Dave comped out a skein of nylon rope and helped Tom tie down the liftgate. And we were off!

Bless him, Tom managed to get the grill out of the back of the van pretty much solo, as it was way too heavy for me. Once out, he rolled it into the backyard and onto the deck. Took the old grill off and rolled it to the side of the house, where Bruce was unlikely to find it. We covered the new grill with the old blue tarp, making it look like a "grill under tarp" just like the old one. From inside the house, Bruce wouldn't notice anything different. And I thought it unlikely that he'd go outside on Saturday afternoon. Got everything put back normally on the deck, and a very grateful Laura dropped Tom at home.

I actually managed to surprise him! I woke up early on Sunday, as he was getting ready to leave for church. I had to tell him before church, as there were way too many people there with beans to spill. He was totallly confused about why I was getting up and dressed. He followed me out to the deck, and as soon as he stepped out there, he could tell the grill was different. He was totally surprised!

As it turns out, we discovered that the grill has an attachment that adds a side smoke box, so I found him a three-fer after all!

It's always nice when one can surprise one's spouse of 27 years. And the entire episode simply confirms that I have no business figuring out if my van is big enough to carry something home.