Mishmash Saturday

I didn’t blog last night because it would have been a repeat of the previous night’s “Out and About.” I went on a quick grocery run with Jordan and otherwise spent the day at my computer and managed my thousand words.

Dinner last night with friends Subie and Phil was a treat. We went to Piatello at the relatively new Riverside shopping center. Sat on the deck and as Phil said, it was an absolutely perfect evening, reminiscent of evenings in Santa Fe. The restaurant’s deck is partitioned off with planters, but beyond them is open deck and beyond that, apartments with a huge green area and some funky sculpture. There was a TCU tent on the green, undoubtedly building interest in today’s game (which TCU won, thank you very much). Kids ran wild on the deck and the green, and dogs were plentiful—I particularly enjoyed watching a young German shepherd, maybe six months at the most. Well behaved for the most part, but there were moments when he was clearly saying, “But, Dad, I’ve got to go investigate,” and Dad was saying no. There was also a gorgeous Labradoodle (soft spot in my heart for doodle dogs, of course), and beneath my feet Phil’s guide dog occasionally stirred, making me think Subie was kicking me.

Fall is in the air—I had a wonderful panzanella salad with fall vegetables—roasted beets, apple slices, raisins, and something I wasn’t sure about—squash I think—with greens and wafer thin cheese. Subie and Phil shared a Caesar salad and each had chicken saltimbocca—I got tastes of each, and they were really good.

But what made the evening was sitting outside with all that vitality and life going on around us. Great cure for my encroaching cabin fever.

Today I’ve been housebound again—writing and reading. Sophie has been my companion and I looked at her tonight as her eyes clearly told me she wanted her dinner—and I realized that she, like my children, has known me all her memory (doubt she remembers much before eight weeks when I got her) and has relied on me for food and love and care. No wonder she is a “Mama’s dog.”

I had the dubious pleasure today of being labeled on Facebook by a friend (former friend?) as an over-educated white female who wants to be a field Negro—a statement that to me reveals racism and a misogynist attitude. Welcome to contemporary America. I have not worried about speaking out on Facebook. In fact, I think it’s imperative for each of us, in these perilous times, to speak out against the chipping away of our rights, the destruction of the environment, the spread of racism—see there I go again, preaching. If I have lost readers over that, I am sorry, but my integrity is more important than book sales. But to have someone I considered a friend call me that—okay I called him a racist, maybe tit for tat—appalled and surprised me.

Excuse me now. I’m going to slink off and fix some supper. Sorry, no, it won’t be greens and cornbread. Pasta with pesto and grated cheese, I think. Over-educated? Really?  Want to be a field Negro? Doubt that.