While You're Waiting . . .

Sorry guys, I've been very busy for a few days. I'll have updates and details soon.

Meanwhile, Fred took this video of Zoe Christmas night, and it was too cute not to share.

(The laugh track you hear in the background was the boys watching TV - it sounds coordinated with Zoe, but that was just happy coincidence.

Oh, Sorry, Is It 2009?

Brave Sir Robin has been remiss during the Holidays. I have neglected all of you shamelessly. What with fabulous Holiday parties to attend, a gorgeous new girlfriend to keep me occupied, and jet setting away to a sunny locale I just haven't had time.

Oh, what's that? None of that happened to me? That was all other bloggers?

Well, then I guess I was just lazy.

Or busy.

Or a combination of both.

So, what has happened in the past few days?

Brave Sir Robin rested.

A lot.

This was my year to have the kids for Christmas, so I took the last two weeks of the year off. 17 days in a row without going to work.

A guy could get used to this I tell you.

Alas, it ends tomorrow, back to the routine I'm afraid. Luckily, I have had the chance to ease into it. Clinton had a basketball game Friday the 2nd, so school has intruded into our lazy time a bit before work will.

I spent a lot of time in the car, traveling back and forth to Houston, but I don't usually mind the drive. We visited Scottie quite a few times, including yesterday. I'm elated to report that his is progressing. His progress tends to go in spurts. He will make several advances in a short time, then plateau for a week or two, but his overall progress is readily apparent. He is feeding himself now, and can dial a telephone. His speech is getting better, but it is still far from good. His therapy at his current facility is primarily focusing on getting his left arm and leg fully mobile. His leg is showing progress. He isn't walking yet, but I feel certain he will in the next few weeks. His left arm isn't showing nearly so much cooperation I 'm afraid. He still has pretty much no mobility at all in that arm. His spirits, however, were very good throughout the holidays.

Did I mention I rested?

The photo detectives among you may have noticed a pattern in the pics I posted the day after Christmas. Yes, everyone is wearing pajamas. Bee lamented that she didn't spend a couple of days in pajamas watching movies. Rest assured dear friend, Brave Sir Robin's clan more than made up for your lack of sloth, with our excess of same. I let the family open one present a couple of days early so it could be enjoyed all week. Enjoy we did.

Christmas Eve, we awoke early and went to Houston. We visited Scottie, and brought him an order of enchiladas, rice and beans. We then went shopping for Christmas Dinner at the newly opened Wholefoods right across the street from my children's absolute favorite restaurant, (no - not McDonald's) - P.F. Chang's. After stowing away our Wholefoods booty in the ice-chest, we went and feasted across the street. That's about all we did in Houston that day, we drove home and while I prepared Christmas Eve dinner - Tamales, rice, beans, assorted cheese, crackers and finger foods, the kids immediately got back into PJ mode. The entire family remained in PJ mode until Saturday when I had to take them all to their Mother's. I prepared Christmas Dinner in my Pajamas, and it was consumed by all in the same manner. The day after Christmas I watched about 10 hours of TV straight through. All told, while all four kids were here, I watched about 5 movies, 4 seasons of That 70's Show, and as much football as possible.

The Saturday after Christmas, I loaded up the kids and took them to their Mom for her half of the Holiday. I was prepared to stay in Houston for several days and do New Year's Eve out on the town with friends.

Didn't happen.

For some reason, she wanted me to pick them up New Year's Eve morning, so I did. Clinton used the opportunity to attend a party at the home of a young lady he is fond of. Unfortunately for Dad, said young lady lives almost 25 minutes away. There is no way, no how I was going to be on the road after midnight with even a drop of alcohol in my system, so I spent a sober night at home, alone, watching football.

I spent the rest of the week either driving to Houston or working on my redecorating project, which - btw - is coming along nicely.

Yes, I did spend more than a few moments this weekend thinking about She Who Must Not Be Named, but it was more bittersweet than raw and painful.

That, dear friends, is the kind of progress that makes me hopeful for 2009.

Christmas At The Castle

A few random images of our Christmas together.

On Christmas Eve, we drove to Houston to visit my brother, on the way back, we spotted this pink limo. Zoe knows what she wants for Christmas.

But she was thrilled with the new dress.

We had Roast Beast.

And had pear and apple pie.

Merry Christmas!

Remembrance Of Cookies Past

Do you have a favorite holiday memory? Or, even a memory, favorite or not, that just means the Holidays to you? I was forced to think about that last year. It was just over a month past the end of my ill-fated love affair, and I was facing Christmas without the kids. I needed a shot of holiday cheer, and I needed it fast. What to do?

I remembered a cookie my Mom used to make, back when I was a kid.

A bit about my Mom, Christmas at our home, and these cookies.

As I've told you before, my Mom wasn't really a great cook. She wasn't horrible, but she wasn't especially adventurous. Pretty much everything was fried, at least until my Dad's heart attack. After that, everything was shoved under the broiler.

She was, however, a proficient baker. She made great pastry, and I still can't match her biscuits. Every Holiday, be it Christmas, Easter, or Thanksgiving, she would bake, and bake, and bake. I can't say whether or not she enjoyed it, but she did have a sweet tooth, and spared no effort to fill the dessert table at each opportunity.

Christmas baking meant pies, of course; pumpkin, mince, and chocolate for sure, sometimes apple, and usually a sweet potato in later years. Every year she made fudge, pralines, divinity, a non bake fruitcake abomination that consisted of crushed vanilla wafers and, something else, I'm not quite sure what, and lots and lots of cookies.

The usual cut-out cookies were there, iced with powdered sugar icing tinted a garish red and green, some kind of spiced date bar that I wish I had the recipe for, spritz cookies in the same shade as the icing, and fruit cake cookies.

The fruitcake cookies were ubiquitous to my childhood Christmases. We had them at home, if I went to a friend's house, they were pretty much guaranteed to be sitting on the counter there as well. My grandmother always had them, and I can remember eating them at church get-togethers.

The funny thing is, I didn't really like those cookies. They were white and bland, and filled with artificial, chemical tasting candied fruit. That was it. The cookie was just an innocuous vehicle for candied fruit and citron, along with a small amount of nuts. I didn't like fruitcake, well, not the one's I'd been exposed to at this point in my life, and I didn't like the overly sweet, artificial taste of candied fruit. Yet, every year, I looked forward to those cookies, and I anticipated their appearance on the kitchen counter.

The only time I ever saw those cookies was at Christmas time. One taste of that chemical, bitter citron and I knew that Christmas was really almost here. When you're 10 years old, that's a pretty big deal.

I thought about those cookies as I tried to jump start my holiday spirit, so I set out to make them. There was a problem; nobody but me remembered them. I guess they must have been some 70's fad from a women's magazine or something, because I couldn't remember the last time I had them, and I couldn't find anyone who even knew what I was talking about.

I started pouring through my collection of Holiday cooking magazines. I finally found a recipe that I thought might be close, so I made them, along with toffee and pecan tassies and far, far more sweets that we could ever hope to eat in three Christmases. I played Christmas music the whole time I baked, and by the time I had the counter filled with goodies, I had made it through the whole day without thinking of you know who.

Satisfied with my day's work, I made a pot of coffee and sat down with one of my cookies. It was a pale, golden white and had a very faint vanilla smell. I bit in. The moment that tang of candied citron hit my tongue, I could see my Mom's old kitchen. I could imagine the little Santa shaped cocoa mugs that lined the bar, and I could smell the Christmas tree. (Flocked, with a color wheel on it) It worked. Make no mistake, this cookie is a far cry from Proust's madeleine, but it accomplished it's goal.

Later, when the kids came home, they surprised me by liking those cookies. I made several more batches, and experimented a bit. I tried substituting first some, and then all of the candied fruit for dried. I used apricots and dried cranberries, even dried cherries. While the dried fruit may have made a better cookie, it was not the Christmas cookie of my memory, for that, it needs the candied citron.

This year, I needed the same boost, so last Friday, I put on the Christmas CD's, I made a pot of Earl Grey, and I baked these cookies. Maybe someday my kids will fondly remember me in the kitchen baking these, and always associate that memory with Christmas.

I hope so.

Fruitcake Cookies

1/2 cup butter
1 1/2 cups AP flour
2/3 cup sugar
1/2 cup cottage cheese (small curd, creamy - don't use low fat)
1 egg
2 Tab milk
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp. vanilla
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1 cup mixed candied fruit with citron * see note below
1/2 cup chopped pecans

Beat the butter in a large bowl until soft. Lightly mix in half of the flour. Add the next 7 ingredients, mix until well combined, stopping to scrape the sides occasionally. Stir in the remainder of the flour, and the fruit and nuts.

Bake at 375 F for 10-12 minutes on parchment paper. Cool on a rack. This recipe makes about 30 cookies for me.

* The fruit should be chopped much finer than it comes out of the container. To accomplish this, I lightly oil my knife with vegetable oil. It makes the job much, much easier.

Scooped out and ready to bake.

Out of the oven - They don't get very brown or crisp, you want them soft.

Cooling on the rack.

A final note -

The title of this post is an obvious reference to Proust's great work. In recent years, it has become de rigueur to refer to this work as In Search Of Lost Time. I thought the earlier title better served my purpose, but after re-reading this post, I'm not so sure. Searching for lost time is a fair description of my blog, n'est-ce pas?

A Quick Update

Was your Thanksgiving great?

I spent the day with Scottie, and it was quite nice. His conversational skills are greatly improving. The big news however, is he has been moved from the hospital to a rehab facility. There have been several complications regarding his move over the last few weeks.

About a month ago, we thought we had him placed in a perfect facility, but several things happened to make the move not go through at the time. As it turns out, it may have been for the best. He is much more receptive to therapy at this point, and the place he is now in is only a few blocks from his old apartment. We moved him Friday. There was a mix up with the hospital and they were going to move him alone earlier in the week. We were able to push it back to Friday, so he would have family there during the move. He seems very, very happy to be in this new place, and it will be much easier for his kids to come and see him now.

I'm getting ready to drive back up there in a few minutes, but I thought I'd let you know.

So yeah, I have things to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.

Yes, I am thankful for all of you as well.

I'm Too Tired To Write, So I'll Post Pictures Edition . . . .

It's true, I am tired.

Tonight is #2 son, Dylan's 16th birthday party. It is somewhat calmer than his younger brother's 14th was.

No less work for the grocer and chef, I'm afraid, but its a calmer crowd.

I'm glad for that. I've been up since about 12:45 AM, and I'm afraid to sit for too long, because I'll probably fall asleep.

Anyway, here are a few random photos which have been sitting in my camera, some from tonight, some from a month or two ago, and some in between. These are unedited, so be kind. As always, they have clickable goodness.

Clinton and friends tonight, going to yet another Quincineria

Speaking of Clinton, this was so not his costume, really.
(What do you think? He could go as Tavi)

Pork with Green Chili and Potatoes, in the pan
(make sure and click this one)

And ready to eat

Tailgating at last year's Texas Bowl. Sorry Pido, we all wore Cougar Red.
(But we sat on the TCU side)

Scottie Update

Guess what Brave Sir Robin did today?

I had a phone conversation with my brother!!

It was slow and halting, and difficult to understand at times, but it was real, and I could tell it was him.

To be honest, there were many days that I thought he was gone. I had said my goodbyes, and I actually went shopping for a new suit for the funeral.

Then, after the hurricane, we had a glimmer of hope, only to be frustrated with the turtle's pace of his progress.

I doubted this day would ever come, but it did.

Welcome back Bro. I love you.

My Plea . . .

I'm listening to this sound track on the headphones today while I'm working, and this song came on. It struck me as extremely appropriate, considering the events of this weekend. Listen to the lyrics, it's very dammed appropriate.

And yes, I knew him before he was famous.

I'm good today.

Tuesday was Dylan's birthday, and we went to Victoria to eat and do a little shopping.

Last night, I had planned to make pork and green chili tacos, but my green chili seems to have disappeared. I made something else, which took longer, so I basically spent all night in the kitchen or on the phone.

Why on the phone? My sister called with news about Scottie. Good news. . . . stay tuned!

Confessions of an 8 Year old Liberal.

From the mouths of babes . . . .

My niece, (8 years old) wrote the following paper for school. She is obviously being raised right.

(with clickable goodness)

The text, slightly edited for spelling clarity:

If I Were President

If I were President, I would make it free to go to the hospital and I would stop people from polluting and I would help the poor. I would also help the people that don’t have any clothes or food or toys, and if children don’t have enough money to go to school I’d let them go for free. I would make it where people that rode motorcycles would have to wear their helmets. I would make it were they can’t cut down rainforest. I would make it were people couldn’t smoke. I would lower gas prices and tell people to recycle. I would help the animals that need help and that’s what I would do if I were President.

What do you think folks?
She has my vote.

Happy Halloween!

Arrghh!!!

Who says pirates can't kill you with cuteness?

I Got Nothing

I'm going to skip the cross country meet tomorrow for a couple of reasons. Firstly, because I'm going to drive to Houston and see Scottie. Then, instead of driving to Houston on Sunday, I can stay home and clean my filthy house, attack the pile of laundry from hell, and actually cook a meal. Second, my allergies are in full swing and spending 4+ hours outside in a field would insure me a miserable 3 or 4 days of itching, swollen eyes, mucus-ie lungs and nose, and headaches. Oh, don't worry, I'll have those anyway, but not quit as severe if I stay indoors. Thirdly, (OK - I know I said a couple of reasons, but I didn't wake up prepared to do math), the boys don't have anywhere to be on Sunday, and we can spend a day together at home for the first time since mid-August.

So where's my head these days?

McCain is a bigger douche than I ever imagined, and believe me when I say I have a huge imagination.

I am still missing Rene' a lot. It is only a couple of weeks away from one year since I ended the relationship, and I still miss her. I've seen her several times this week, and it still hurts. I still get (quite literally) weak in the knees when I see her. If there is a silver lining to all the bullshit in my life right now, it's that I simply don't have time to be overwhelmed with Rene' induced depression. Doesn't mean it's not there, mocking me from my sub-conscious, but the immediacy of the Scottie crisis and having to fit it all in between work, kids, and household responsibilities is keeping it from crushing me as it has in the past.

I finished Atonement this week, and now I'm dying to see the film. Yes, I loved it. I started Midnight's Children yesterday. It's too early to tell, but I think it might be alright. I confess, I was a little afraid of it. Have any of you read it? Or read any Rushdie for that matter?

The boys are good - Cross Country, Football, and the Fall Play are keeping us very, very busy.

Here's a little music to get you ready for the weekend - can this song really be 12 years old already? Shit, I consider this some of my "newer" music. I gotta get out more.

What's happening around here . . . ..

Sorry to keep you dangling all this time – between trips to Houston and trying to keep the house and the boys in order and on schedule, I’m spread a little thin.

Scottie is showing limited improvement. He is showing (very) small amounts of responsiveness. He is still on antibiotics for secondary infections. He is breathing on his own (through the trache), with only a little added oxygen to give him a boost.

My biggest fear is that he will stay exactly as he is – alive, probably conscious of his situation and his surrounding, but unable to interact with them. That makes any pending decisions impossibly difficult, as if they weren’t already. His neurologist says he is not progressing as rapidly as she would expect to see at this stage. That being said, it’s wonderful to see those bright blue eyes of his open, even if it is for only a couple of minutes at a time.

On the home front –

Homecoming is this week, and we are all engrossed in Mums and plans for the event.

Yawn.

OK – I know, it’s a big deal to the boys, but it just seems frivolous to me right now.

In order to run this Blog like the McBush campaign, I will now hope to distract you from the lack of substance here by providing a bit of fluff. Here are a few pictures from our evacuation weekend.

Brave Sir Robin needs to quit wearing the same shirt every time someone snaps his picture.

This is where we had lunch Saturday, The Gristmill River Restaurant, in Gruene.

Yes, beer is served by the bucket.

Inside Gruene Hall, (the oldest dance hall in Texas), Dylan won a bet by finding Leon Russel on the wall.

I met this lovely young lady, a local, in the hall as well.

I hope to visit you all soon, I'm trying.

Good News!!

Finally! Something good to report.

Yesterday, Scottie opened his eyes for a brief time. He was able to follow his daughter across the room with his eyes, and squeeze his ex wife's hand.

I'm trying hard not to be too excited about this, but it's hard not to be. This is the first sign at all of responsiveness since the accident. That's 19 days.

I'm going to head that way in just a little while. The parking lot at the hospital re-opened yesterday, but fuel is still a major issue. I will top off my tank before I leave, and I should be able to make it most of the way back before needing to refuel.

While this is an encouraging development, we are by no means out of the water on this one.

Thank you all again. My meager ability with words is totally inadequate to express my thanks for the support I've received from the blogosphere.

I'll report back soon.

Meanwhile - Here are the boys Saturday in front of Gruene Hall, the oldest dance hall in Texas.

Post Evacuation Blues . . .

I'm back home.

Port Lavaca was spared the brunt of the storm, but friends in Houston were not so lucky.

I worked today, for only the second time since the 28th of August. I spent most of the day putting my office back together from the hurricane preparations.

On top of everything else, I've had a wicked chest cold for about a week.

Scottie has progressed physically to the point where he is out of I.C.U. He has still shown no signs of responsiveness.

We wait.

Evacuation Ike - Postcard from the road . . .

I'll try to have some pictures tomorrow - I have to find where I packed the cable -

The boys and I are in Seguin. It is actually very, very nice. We are in a large rented house on the lake, with a boat dock, three levels of terrace, and HD TV's.

I'd rather be in the hospital with my baby brother. His Trache has taken, and the hospital has put up it's flood walls, and prepared to ride out the storm, which has shifted slightly in that direction.

I love you guys, take care.

k

Update . . .

I found a connection here at the hospital.

Scottie is not well, at all.

We are going to trache him today, and prepare ourselves and the girls for the reality that he is gone.

Meanwhile, I am under mandatory evacuation starting tomorrow because Ike is heading straight towards my house. The kids are with Dave and Lisa, but I am going to have to get clothes, computers, pictures, etc.... packed and ready.

It just never seems to get any easier, does it?

I'll try to stay in touch, but it may be a few days.

Things Like This don't Happen To Me . . .

. . . . Until they do.


Last Friday, August 29th, my brother was in a motorcycle accident. He sustained massive head trauma. He has been in the N.T.I.C.U. at Herman Memorial Hospital in Houston since that time.

Yesterday, his doctor told us that if he hasn't come out of the coma by Thursday, the family needs to be prepared to either accept along term care solution - i.e. feeding tube and tracheal ventilator, or to disconnect all life support.

I can't imagine anyone ever expects to be put into this position.

How does one decide what to do? Neither choice is appealing.

He has two daughters, 17 and 15.

Anyway, that's where I've been. The kindness shown throughout the blogosphere has been overwhelming.

Thank You all.

Whoo!!!!!

I go pick up the kids today. They have been visiting their Mom for a couple of weeks. I am WAY past ready to have them home.

Here's to hoping I can take off a couple of days and enjoy them before we get into the hassle of back to school prep. It's pretty close.

Meanwhile, here's something to enjoy, and by all means, please do. The film was very, very disappointing to me when it came out, but it's growing on me, and this song was done very, very well. It translated to film beautifully.

Little Girls Grow Up

Friday was the Summer Solstice. Summer has started and Autumn will follow and before we have time to blink, the holiday season will upon us and a new year will come.

I know this is ridiculously close to a cliche', but the older I get, the faster those seasons seem to pass. Children that were little kids what seems like yesterday are driving cars and discussing college plans.

The passing of time can't be held back.

I've been a single Dad for 5 years. Dylan and Clinton were both in grade school when we started this thing, next year they will both be in high school. Zoe was 2 years old. She will turn 8 in just a couple of months.

I wish there was a way to bottle up these years and keep them safe on a shelf, to be taken out and treasured from time to time. Wouldn't it be wonderful to be able to pull out these years later, when we have the time to sit and savor them? Instead, I rush from project to project, weekend to weekend, trying to squeeze out a bit of relaxation and enjoyment between dinners and laundry, and track practices.

I need to remember that life isn't about the destination, it's about the journey.

I took this picture of Zoe and Molly this weekend.


When I downloaded it, my mind immediately flashed back to a picture of these same two girls that was taken 5 years ago. I wasn't sure where it was, but I found it on a back up disk this morning. When I compared the two pictures, I wept.

It goes so fast.




Enjoy everyday dear readers. Savor the moment. I'm going to try and take my own advice.

Summer Basketball

Did I tell you about the summer basketball league?

Well, how about I do?

#3 son, Clinton eats, sleeps and breathes basketball.

Everyday.

He comes home from football, or track practice and shoots baskets in the driveway. I've seen him do it in the rain, in the dark, in the heat and in the cold.

So this year, he wants to be in a summer league. Most of his friends are doing it. Particularly, from my point of view, the desirable friends, are doing it. It didn't cost a lot of money, and they only practice on Sunday.

OK, we'll do it.

Well it turns out the team practices in Seadrift.

Seadrift is a little coasting fishing town about 2o miles from here. Practice is from 6:00 to 8:00 every Sunday.

I drive him there, drive back home, wait about an hour then turn around and go get him. Not really a very efficient way to do things. Week before last, practice was canceled. This week, I decided to stay in Seadrift while they practiced, so I could save the gas. Good thing I did. The coach never bothered to show up. He didn't call, didn't bother to let anyone know. Most of the kids on the team are from Port Lavaca. Everyone showed up except the coach. Lots of unhappy parents.

We are no longer in Summer League. Maybe next year.

But I did get a few pictures I like.

A little lagoon by the harbor.

Catamarans on the shore

Shrimp nets

Crab Traps

All fishing villages need a few resident artists

I've been trying to get this post up for a week, but blogger didn't like the pictures. Anyway, The coach was a flake, and driving all that way for nothing more than a couple of times is out of the question.

Especially on Sunday afternoon.