His Mind Was A River Of Gold:

Moral virtues come from habits.
They are not in us by nature, nor despite nature.
We are furnished by nature a capacity for receiving them,
and we develop them through habit.
These virtues we acquire first by exercising them.

Whatever we learn to do,
we learn by actually doing it —
men become builders by building
and harp players by playing the harp.

In the same way, by doing just acts, we become just.
By doing self-controlled acts, we become self-controlled.
And by doing brave acts, we become brave.

—Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC)

I Just Count The Wings:

Every time I see anything by Charley Harper I smile... I can't help it. His work is filled with nature and science. It is optimistic and full of promise. It is beautiful and whimsical.

When asked to describe his unique visual style, a style he called "minimal realism," Mr. Harper responded, "When I look at a subject -- wildlife or nature -- I don't see the feathers in the wings. I don't count the feathers, I just count the wings. I see exciting shapes, color combinations, patterns, textures, fascinating behavior and endless possibilities for making interesting pictures. I regard the picture as an ecosystem in which all the elements are interrelated, interdependent, perfectly balanced, without trimming or unutilized parts; and herein lies the lure of painting, in a world of chaos, the picture is one small rectangle in which the artist can create an ordered universe."

For Christmas this year, I want Santa to bring me a copy of "The Giant Golden Book of Biology: An Introduction to the Science of Life," (c1961) by Gerald Ames and Rose Wyler; Illustrated by Charley Harper (1922-2007). That would make me smile a lot!

Ah, Pizza:

There was a shift in plans for my birthday night -- the babysitter was a no-show. Anyway, we did end up seeing "Bright Star" (a beautiful but profoundly sad movie, take lots o' tissues!) and instead of my favorite restaurant, we ate at a nearby "wine bar." Really good wine. My sea scallops were just so-so, but my bestest friend Betsy ordered a Pear and Gorgonzola Stone-Fired Pizza which was oh-so delicious!

I've been looking for a similar recipe, and I think I've found it:

Pear and Gorgonzola Pizza

16 ozs. pizza dough crust

3 comice or bosc pears (sliced and caramelized*)

2 Tablespoons butter

2 1/2 Tablespoon brown sugar

2 large sweet, Vidalia onions (thinly sliced and caramelized**)

2 Tablespoons olive oil

salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese

1 cup shredded mozzarella

8 oz. tub of Gorgonzola cheese

1/2 cup toasted walnuts, chopped

honey

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

To caramelize pears > melt butter in medium skillet on medium heat. Add pears. Sprinkle evenly with brown sugar. Cook 4-5 minutes until sugar has melted and pears are evenly covered with sugar mixture. Stir frequently. Remove from heat and set aside.

To caramelize onions > heat oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add onions and generous seasoning of salt and pepper. Toss to coat well, then cover pan. Cook until caramelized, about 30 minutes. Stir frequently. Remove from heat and set aside.

Press pizza dough into greased pizza pan. Prick dough with a fork and brush lightly with olive oil. Mix all three cheeses together in a bowl, leaving some Gorgonzola to sprinkle on top at the end. Sprinkle the cheese on the dough. Next layer the onions, then the pears, and sprinkle the remaining Gorgonzola cheese. Bake for 17-20 minutes. Remove from oven, grind some fresh pepper, scatter with the toasted walnuts and drizzle with honey. Slice into squares or wedges and serve... Ah!

A Thing of Beauty:

Hello, it's my birthday and I've got a babysitter for tonight. My friends are taking me "anywhere I want to go." Just getting out of the house and spending an evening in adult conversation will be special enough (Little M has been sick this whole week), but celebrating a birthday allows one to be completely selfish and gives license to do exactly what one wants to do. I think we'll inbibe and have appetizers at Cafe Toulouse first [my drink: Pimm's Cup; my picks: Humboldt Fog, honeycomb, nuts & fresh figs; Wild Mushroom Vol-au-Veni; Lobster Bisque; Green Room Mussels; and Grand Marnier souffle] and then see a movie -- specifically "Bright Star" -- Jane Campion's Cannes winning, beautiful film about John Keats and Fanny Brawne... I can't wait!!! "A thing of beauty is a joy forever..."

The Flower Duet:

My all time favorite song is "Viens, Mallika, les lianes en fleurs..." from the opera "Lakme" by Leo Delibes -- popularly known as The Flower Duet. For my birthday about twenty years ago, my husband gave me a CD of opera arias. One aria immediately struck a chord with me; one that I had never heard before. The Flower Duet is haunting and beautiful and lush. "...given over to the 1880's fashion for exoticism, the delicate orchestration and melodic richness earned Delibes a success with his audiences." Much to my dismay, years later he was thrilled that it had been included in the soundtrack to one of his favorite movies, True Romance. Oh well...

Cowboy Lingo:
As I've said before, I've lived all over -- the product of being a military brat. But I've lived most my life in Texas and Louisiana -- two states that have their own language. Seriously, when you cross the state line either way, it's like crossing into a different country. Today, let's talk about Texas (and I'm not talking about speaking Spanish.) In large cities like Dallas and Houston, people don't know much about the western way of life. They're too sophisticated (city-fied) plus the populations are full of "out-of-towners." In smaller Texas towns though, there are pockets of people who still speak authentic Cowboy Lingo. And it bothers me that the language is dying. Blame it on TV or the Internet, globalization, or whatever, it's happening and it's sad. If you've never had an opportunity to carry on a conversation with a cowboy, you are really missing something. The language is colorful and meaningful and honest. There's no putting on airs or showing off, it is thoughtful and sincere.

Look at Legends of America, Old West Legends. As you read the "old slang, lingo and phrases," don't be put off by thinking that people really don't talk that way, or that it is ridiculous or made up... these are the real McCoy.
Here's just a few examples:
They ate supper before they said grace (they're living in sin)
Toad choker (a heavy rain)
Big hat, No cattle (All talk and no action)
Tighter than bark on a tree (not very generous)
He looks like the dog's been keepin' him under the porch (not a very handsome man)
Airin' the lungs (cussing)
Rattle your hocks (hurry up)
Mashed (in love)
Tear squeezer (sad story)
Pig trail (small road)
Grassed (to be thrown from a horse)
Snapped (drunk)
Indian side (the right side of a horse)
Jollification (scene of merriment)
Wattles (ears)
Love apples (canned tomatoes)

A Survivor:

Albert Alcalay survived a concentration camp during the Holocaust, then became a jazz-influenced abstract painter and ultimately a Harvard professor. "His early European work was expressionist in nature, but with his move to the urban landscapes of the U.S. in the 1950s, and death of a dear friend, Alcalay was forced to find a new visual language, one that was fluid and often informed by the events of his life, including the loss of his eyesight late in life." Alcalay was an amazing man and an amazing painter.

Booga Booga:

I'm trying to decide what color to paint the backdoor to the garage. No one will see this door but me... still, I'm having a hard time deciding. I could be conservative and paint it the same color as the door to the backyard -- "Lambert Green" by Jones-Blair Paint Company, a beautiful gray-spruce green created in the 1950's by Dallasite Joe Lambert Jr. Or I could be thrifty and use leftover paint I have sitting around. But what I was thinking about was going back to my Louisiana roots and painting it "Haint Blue." After all, blue is my favorite color and Haint Blue is thought to have mystic qualities -- like Cajun Voodoo!

For centuries in all parts of the world, it's believed that painting the home's doors, trim, shutters, or porch ceiling, will keep the Haints away. A "Haint" is a restless, evil spirit of the dead that hasn't moved on from their physical world. And above all, Haints are not friendly! Blue paint is used to resemble water... and as we all know, Haints can't cross water! Using blue paint fools Haints, and painting the home's openings discourage them from "crossing" into the house!

Some believe that using blue paint on a home helps keep bugs away. The blue reminds flies, bees, wasps, and mosquitoes of the sky, and supposedly they won't hang around or build a nest near the color blue. There's Gullah Blue, Dutch Boy Blue, Dirt-Dauber Blue, and what they call it in Louisiana -- "That Blue Color Mosquitoes Hate."

The actual shade of "Haint Blue" varies. It can range from a pastel violet-blue, such as a periwinkle, to a rich shade of warm turquoise, and everything in between. I'm not sure what exact shade I want to use. Maybe I need to consult the local paranormal society to find out what shade of blue keeps garage Haints away!

Pollyanna's prisms:

I am not going to complain about the rain, rain is good... although it has been raining non-stop for over two weeks and my geraniums have gone to rot! Rain is good. It's been a great relief from the blazing hot sun and months and months of one-hundred-plus-degree heat. It has washed everything clean again, even my car. Rain is good, I love the rain. But rainbows are even better.

On our road trip to North Carolina last month, it rained most of the way there and all of the way back. Sometimes it just drizzled and sometimes it rained so hard I could barely see the car in front of me. But what I'll remember most about the Summer of 2009's rainy season is the magnificent rainbow we saw outside Birmingham. It was on August 28, my Mother's 81st birthday. Around six o'clock, the rain had settled to a steady drip and as we crested a hill, there it appeared in all its beauty. It was as big as a mountain and shone bright in the setting sun. It had been a long, long time since I'd seen a rainbow. I had almost forgotten what a wonder it is. My Mother and I saw it at the same time, and in unison we cried, "Look!" We marveled at how bold the colors were and what a vast amount of land it covered. She seemed pleased when I reminded her it was her birthday. She smiled and said, "Not everyone gets a rainbow for their birthday!"

"Why, Mr. Pendergast, how did you do that!," breathed Pollyanna, her fascinated eyes on the brilliant band of colors across the wall. "It's prismatic reflective light," huffed Mr. Pendergast, "Don't you know anything?" "Isn't it beautiful?" exclaimed Pollyanna, "Like a real rainbow came in to pay you a visit!"

Wonderful:
After kissing her Mommy and Daddy goodnight, Little M and I climbed the stairs and headed to my bedroom for "nigh-night." Since she was booted out of the den to let the adults watch football on TV, Little M's nightly viewing of her favorite show, Wonder Pets, was interrupted. To soothe her already upset emotions, I doubled up the pillows behind her back, fluffed the comforter around her, and turned on my bedroom TV to the Noggin channel. Instead of lying prone on the bed, I doubled up some pillows for my back and sat down next to her. After a few minutes, she pulled her tiny hand out from under the covers and felt for mine. There we sat, side by side in the dark, holding hands and watching "Linny, Tuck and Ming-Ming too." A few more minutes passed. Quietly, in her small sweet, lisping voice she said, "Nan, you're my best friend." I was so taken aback I didn't know how to respond. Tears filled my eyes and I got all choked up. I sat still trying to think of something to say, wondering what train of thought led this little 28-month-old to make such a statement. Finally I replied simply, "You're my best friend too." And at that moment I realized -- she really was.

Jimmy, Oh Jimmy! Oh, What Joy:

How have I lived in Dallas for almost 25 years and not known about Jimmy's Food Store? It's at the end of lower Greenville off Bryan, so finding it was an adventure in itself! It was worth the drive though, and I'll be back time and time again. It's everything a small, neighborhood, Italian grocery store should be... and more. My senses were overloaded -- the smells, the sights, the tastes... I know I was in Texas but it felt like New York City. Jeff helped fill my bag with lusciousness: Piedmont Gorgonzola, Lombardy Taleggio, Provolone Sardo, Prosciutto Di Parma, Mortadella with Pistachios, Porchetta (yum!), Sopressata, Cannolis, and fig preserves. My next visit will include a dip into their unbelievable wine selection... and maybe I'll sign up for one of their weekly wine tasting dinners!

Not To Be Confused With LeBron's Crab Dribble:

So many crab cake recipes and variations...

this is my favorite!

Cajun Crab Cakes wit' a Kick

1 lb. crab meat (drained, picked through)

1 Tablespoon unsalted butter

2 Tablespoons olive oil

3/4 cup small diced yellow onion (1 small onion)

1/2 cup small seeded and diced red bell pepper (1 small pepper)

1 seeded and diced fresh jalapeno

1/4 cup chopped green onions (green parts only)

1 1/2 cups small diced celery (4 stalks)

1/4 cup minced fresh flat-leaf parsley

2 teaspoons each of dried basil and dried thyme

2 Tablespoons of fresh tarragon

1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1/2 Tablespoon Creole mustard

2 1/2 Tablespoons real mayonnaise

1 Tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

1/2 Tablespoon Tabasco sauce

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper to taste

Flour seasoned with Tony Chachere's

Egg wash (2-3 eggs, lightly beaten)

1/2 cup French bread crumbs (make them yourself in a food processor, don't buy 'em!) and season with Tony Chachere's

vegetable oil or butter for pan-frying crab cakes

green onions and lemon wedges for garnish

Place butter and oil, onion, bell pepper, jalapeno, celery, Worcestershire and Tabasco sauce, parsley, herbs, tarragon, cayenne, salt and black pepper in a large saute pan over medium-low heat and cook until the onion is translucent and soft (approximately 15 minutes). Cool to room temperature. In a large bowl, combine mustard, mayonnaise, and bread crumbs. Add cooked vegetables and mix well. Add crab meat and VERY GENTLY fold together. Cover and chill in the refrigerator for thirty minutes. Moisten hands with water and form 3-4 oz. of mixture into cakes (makes 10-12 cakes). Dredge in seasoned flour (tap off excess), egg wash, and seasoned breadcrumbs (sequentially), coating cakes evenly. Place crab cakes on baking sheet. Cover lightly with foil and chill in the refrigerator for one hour. In a large saute pan, heat oil/butter. Gently lay the cakes, 3 to 4 at a time, and pan-fry until lightly golden, about four minutes on each side. Drain cakes on paper towels. Plate and garnish with green onion and lemon wedge.

You Oughta Be In Pictures:

Such a sweet reunion... so much red, white and blue-ness, big-as-the-sky smiles, tears of happiness, palpable relief, wind-wide-freedom, swells of pride and pure joy! God is good, all the time!

Thank you, Lauren Larsen, for the wonderful photos and beautiful description of such a special morning. Thank you for getting up at the crack of dawn, leaving your little baby behind, waiting with such patience, squatting for what seemed like hours to get a child's-eye-view, and providing our family with irreplaceable images.

You Are Getting Sleepy, Very Sleepy:

Since December 9, 2008, I have had absolutely no problem falling asleep -- chasing around a two-year-old all day long will do that to you! I'm always exhausted and when my head hits the pillow at night, Sayonara -- I am OUT! But a hot topic for my circle of friends is the fact that they just can't fall sleep. No matter how hard they try, Mr. Sandman is elusive and Prince Ambien is their hero.

For four years, I've been getting a monthly newsletter from MetLife called "Life Advice." An article in this month's edition gives tips for getting a good night's sleep, some I've heard before and some I haven't:

Remember that you were designed to need lots of sleep. Before the advent of electricity, most humans slept from sunset to sunrise. Natural doctors believe that the organs detoxify during the hours of midnight to 3:00 am, and that if you force your body to stay awake, you rob yourself of these self-healing benefits.

Go to bed and get up at about the same time every day, even on the weekends. Sticking to a schedule helps regulate your body's sleep-wake cycle and makes falling asleep easier.

Pick a time to turn off the TV, computer, phone, etc. and stick to it. Consider making 10:00 pm -- ideally, even earlier -- the cut-off for all electronics. It takes your brain time to wind down after stimulation. (This holds especially true for teenagers and young children.)

Try to stop fiddling around by 9:00 pm. If the dishes are still in the sink, leave them there until morning. Every time you re-rev yourself with activity, you sabotage your good night's sleep.

Limit your liquids before bedtime; avoid late-night snacking and late, heavy dinners. Avoid nicotine, caffeine and alcohol in the evening. All three drugs can wreak havoc on your sleep.

Exercise regularly. Regular exercise can help you fall asleep quicker and sleep more soundly. Exercise at least three hours before bedtime.

Create a cool, dark, quiet bedroom. Make sure your bed and mattress are comfortable. Use blackout curtains, if necessary. Sleep with earplugs and/or an eye mask. Cozy up with extra blankets. Take whatever measures are necessary to create a serene and sleep-friendly environment.

Sleep primarily at night. Catnapping makes it harder to fall asleep at night. Remember that your body needs deep, restful, long sleep to heal and rejuvenate, and the best time for that is at night.

Create a bedtime ritual. Having a routine signals your body that it's time for sleep. A warm bath or soaking your feet in warm water may help you sleep. Also, lying on the floor with your legs up against a wall at a ninety-degree angle can help your body prepare for sleep. Relaxing routines done with lowered lights can help ease the transition between wakefulness and sleepiness.

Avoid worrying about whether or not you'll fall asleep, that's a sure way to make certain you don't.

Vino NoNo:

During a hot game of Apples to Apples last night, I was coached in wine etiquette by my twenty-something-year-old daughters (one of whom works for a Napa Valley vintner)... am I the only one who didn't know that you are never suppose to pour your own glass of wine? So who pours when I drink alone?

P's & Q's: The duty of the host toward his/her guests is one of the most ancient and enduring forms of etiquette in human civilization. When serving wine, making sure that your guests are comfortable with the process is your paramount concern. Before serving, always allow wine time to breathe at room temperature. Never pour wine for guests immediately after opening. It is the host's responsibility to discreetly ensure that the wine is sound and unspoiled. This should be done away from company, and a small amount should be sampled. Always serve wine to your guests in clean, spotless wine glasses. This may seem obvious, but it is a very common mistake. Never fill a glass to the top with wine. Leave at least half the glass empty, sometimes closer to 2/3 depending upon the type of glass. When you are a guest at someone else’s home, it's good wine etiquette to allow the host/hostess to serve your wine for you, unless he or she suggests you help yourself.

All You Need Is Love:

Today is 09 09 09. What a strange day! Made me think of "number nine, number nine, number nine..." Plus I just read a mean-spirited article by someone who didn't post his name about Beatles' overload, "...you can't swing a dead cat without hitting a baby boomer rock critic prattling on about how The Beatles changed the world, defined a generation, and wrote the best songs ever known to man." I could label this guy, but I won't stoop to his level.

Instead, I'm going to celebrate the day! And crank up The White Album as loud as possible!

LoveFest:
I can't say enough about what is happening at 2302 EPC these days... love is oozing out the cracks and crevices! It's dripping down the hall and layering over the furniture. My daughter and her husband are home on two weeks R&R. They were in Iraq and hadn't seen their baby daughter in nine months, so to witness them rediscover her is bittersweet -- sad that they missed so much but oh-so-happy that they are reunited.

Labor On:

In honor of today's holiday, I will not be laboring. Instead, I will be locked in my room, lying on my bed reading a short book by Ruth Reichl entitled Not Becoming My Mother. I might even eat a few bonbons and watch TV too!

Happy Labor Day everyone!

Oh Happy Day:

They're coming! They're scheduled to arrive this morning at 7:55 am, Terminal D, Gate 22. All the things I'm feeling are bundled up into one big knot in my stomach. How will this unfold? Only God knows.

And Another Thing:
Because her father was an Air Force officer, famous photographer Annie Leibovitz traveled the nation via automobile (see yesterday's blog). Her view of the world was often through the prism of a car window -- a framing device that formed much of her work.

John and Yoko On what would be the last day of his life, John Lennon posed for photographs with Yoko Ono in a session with photographer Annie Liebovitz. One of the pictures, a naked Lennon curled around and kissing a clothed Ono, became the cover for Rolling Stone magazine’s tribute to him. That iconic image published a month after his December 1980 death has been ranked the top magazine cover of the last 40 years by a panel of magazine editors, artists and designers.

Are We There Yet:

I just finished a road trip with my 81-year-old mother and 2-year-old granddaughter. We drove through seven states -- Texas to North Carolina and back -- in four days. What an adventure! It was literally an Erma Bombeck book! Without going into detail, just imagine: a forgotten dress and lost luggage; cleaning orange-colored car sickness off a car seat; a time zone change that equals a missed wedding; tennis shoes worn with a silk dress; and so much more. But also imagine being alone with your mother in a car for seven hours each of those four days. Imagine all the things we talked about. Imagine the topics we covered. No stone was left unturned. Every relative's life and loves were recalled and examined. Every recipe and remedy was discussed and dissected. War and politics were approached and then left alone. Art and music were appraised and appreciated. Family history was reconstructed and relived. Sometimes it seemed as if we were in an episode of Cash Cab, making "Mobile Shout Outs" to my siblings for answers to things forgotten or clarifications on things remembered. So, although the trip was "ca-ra-zeee" and eventful, it was wonderful and memorable as well.

The road trip also brought back lots of childhood memories -- memories of my family's cross country trips in our Starmist Blue and Colonial White '57 Ford Fairlane 500. We traversed the nation in that car moving from military base to military base. And during the summer months, the six of us along with our luggage and gear were crammed into the "blue bomb" for camping in exotic places such as Beaver's Bend and Sulpher Springs.

Susan Rugh's book, Are We There Yet: The Golden Age of American Family Vacations, is an in-depth look at post-World War II family travel. Rugh’s study recounts how "postwar prosperity and mass consumption–abetted by paid vacation leave, car ownership, and the new interstate highway system forged the ritual of the family road trip, a ritual that became entwined with what it meant to be an American. With each car a safe haven from the Cold War, vacations became a means of strengthening family bonds and educating children in parental values, national heritage, and citizenship."

Notwithstanding the rueful memories of discomforts and squabbles in that crowded car, road trips were magical times for us. When we had a family of our own, my husband and I made sure that our children experienced road trips... even though they were usually centered around soccer tournaments. I hope when our girls have families, they will make sure their children will ride the road too!

Growing Pains:

One night you lay awake -- for hours -- thinking about an earlier telephone conversation and all you can do is worry. You pray your most earnest prayers. Your heart aches. And you long to hold her in your arms again and rock her and tell her that, "Mommy's here. It's alright, Mommy's here." What can you say to your child to make things better? What wisdom can you bestow upon her that will ease her worries, dry her tears? What can you say long distance to your child that will make everything alright? You want to tell her that although today was hard, things will get better... and then again, they will get harder still. Is she too young to understand about the ebb and flow of life?

The next morning, the sun rises. It's a new day and she calls very early to tell you that all is well. She's moved on and talks with excitement about her new job assignment. You hang up the phone. Sitting at the breakfast table with a coffee cup at your elbow and a headache born of too little sleep and too much crying, you try to focus. Ah, motherhood!