Every morning but our last in New Orleans, Tim went out for breakfast and brought breakfast back to me in the hotel room. I felt SO spoiled. It was wonderful to have yummy food delivered to me as if I were some Very Important Person.
Our last morning in the Crescent City, we’d planned to meet Lisa, ‘Nathan, and Dan at the Clover Grill, but Tim was feeling a little under the weather, so I walked there alone. I was reminded when seeing Lisa’s photos that I, too, upon watching her whip out her camera, took the obligatory Clover Grill breakfast plate shot. Mmmmmm, grits: one of those things that say “back home” to me, even though my real “back home” is one state east and a few hours north of New Orleans. Roll Tide.
As we were eating, I watched the intersection of Bourbon Street and Dumaine come to life, including a house across Dumaine. Men emerged to sit on the stoop, squint against the sun, and wake up to the day. I noticed a “Happy Birthday” sign spraypainted on one of the windows and was idly writing a little story in my head in between the conversations at our table.
Later, when we stepped outside after our meal, I got one of my favorite shots of the trip, capturing an unexpected, happy moment, when Lisa strode across the street and asked the men, “How was the party?” Why hadn’t I realized that OF COURSE she’d probably been talking to the guys for days as she went back and forth to our favorite little café, and undoubtedly she knew all kinds of details about them. I just adore her. And if I’m wrong, Lisa, don’t tell me, ’cause I love the way you never meet a stranger.
Lisa, chattin’ it up with the dudes.
Lovely memories. But back to Houston and this week…
Monday morning I was reminded of how spoiled I got in New Orleans when Tim came home from the gym with a breakfast sandwich from Jack in the Box for me. It was a nice beginning to what could have been a yucky day. June 1 is the first anniversary of my mother’s death, and Sunday night, I finished reading Scott Heim’s We Disappear while sobbing. What an achingly moving book by such a good writer. In earlier times, I’d have grabbed my quill pen and written him a tear-stained letter of admiration and gratitude. Instead, I sent him an e-mail and received one back from him. There’s a lot to be said for today’s more immediate gratification, and those two e-mails will remain intensely special to me always.
In addition, my brother, sister, and I exchanged some funny e-mails. I’m so glad I was born into a family where we were taught the value of humor for release and coping.
I had an eye appointment on Monday afternoon, and since I knew my eyes would be dilated, Tim graciously agreed to be my driver. (Another thing I could get used to. What am I talking about? I already have.) Off we went to the Galleria. While I was waiting for my glasses (a new prescription because my distance vision has improved, while my close-up vision worsened–I blame all that sewing), Tim further indulged me.
As many of you know, Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum novels became some of my favorite escapist reading after a friend recommended them when I was just starting to write A Coventry Christmas. (She did so after she found out that I, like Evanovich, was giving my main character a hamster.) The characters in these books just slay me with their quirks and exploits. I was able to hook my mother on them, and we used to crack up as we recounted the shenanigans of characters like Grandma Mazur, Sally Sweet, Albert Kloughn, and Lula. I think Evanovich has done a masterful job of introducing three hot men–Joe, Ranger, and Diesel–into Stephanie’s life and balancing them over fourteen “numbers” books (Finger Lickin’ Fifteen releases the end of this month!) and four “between-the-numbers” books. When Tim was in the hospital in 2007 and needed something light to read, those were the books I took to him.
So Monday, being the friend he is, Tim agreed to go on a hunt with me for the Bvlgari shower gel that Ranger uses because I wanted to know how Ranger smells. But as we scanned the men’s fragrance shelves in Nordstrom and Macys, none of the names were jumping out at me. Then we went to Etoile Perfumery, where the sales associate pointed out that there were some unisex Bvlgari products, too. I still wasn’t sure about the name, so we went to Borders to look through the books. Tim finally spotted the exact name in one of the later books: Green Tea. Back to Etoile to check out the scent. They didn’t have the shower gel, but since Tim’s out of Marc Jacobs, he said he’d be willing to wear this because it smells as delicious as Stephanie Plum says. I happen to have a checking account that I shared with my mother that still has money in it, so we paid for it using that account. She’d have gotten a kick out of the Ranger connection. Plus it was ON SALE, as it originally had been part of a set, and the other item was missing. What budget-conscious mother doesn’t teach us the value of buying stuff that’s ON SALE, right?!?
Then I almost got us eighty-sixed from the Galleria. Apparently, there are NO PHOTOS signs at every entrance to this shopping mecca. Which is weird, because I’ve ALWAYS taken photos there, especially at the ice rink. I guess it’s because only a terrorist would take a photo of a ginormous American flag. Ha, I got my shot before the security guard yelled at me. For scale, that’s Tim standing on the walkway directly beneath the flag.
He smells good, too.
Mothers money
That better not have come from my part of mothers money ( the gift you bought for Tim oh yeah that”s right I forgot the whole world revolves around Tim!) Just kidding Tim don’t get your panties in a wad. Love ya all Debby
Re: Mothers money
Ha, no, that’s my separate secret account. You will forget you ever read about it. You are getting sleeeeeeepy…
Re: Mothers money
“Tim don’t get your panties in a wad.”
Bitch.
Re: Mothers money
Don’t make her come down here.
(On second thought…)
Going to Clover was one of the things I was looking forward to most. It is usually the firstplace Chris H and I go for breakfast when we arrive in the city, no matter the time of day.
It was the place where we got our first dinner and I got my last breakfast this trip. =)
I love that pic of the flag in the mall and tiny Tim- totally worth getting thrown out for!
Your post was beautiful, it was so sweet and cute and it made me smile.
Thank you for telling me! =)
😉
is this you?
http://www.bmeink.com/A80429/high/npjf-barbies.jpg
Re: 😉
I wish!
Re: 😉
Maybe that’s Mark. He’s always wearing long shorts, so those girls could be under there.
Re: 😉
Huh. How fun would it be for us to ask Mark to drop trousers so we could look at his girls? I suspect that would be new for him.
Re: 😉
I’ll have to remember to do that when I see him in July. 😀
I’ve never noticed the “No Photos” sign before. I’ve always taken pictures at the ice rink of friends and their kids. That’s so strange.
The picture is so worth getting yelled at by “Se-coority”.
Thanks! It was worth it. She was polite but very obviously annoyed with me.
If someone came up to me and asked me to recommend a good Becky Cochrane entry, this would be one of them. You know what the other is, and damn it, I’m tired of being polite and asking for the title and one of these days I’m just going to up and steal it.
On a side note, I’m going to start spelling all my “u” words with a “v.” It’s got that uppercrusty snobby appeal that I like and seek to emulate. : )
I’ll be expecting a model with a name like this:
Mvzettä Jäne-Jäne
haha Oh man… it’s got umlauts, too. You shouldn’t have (yes, you should).
I know what you like, Surly Man.
I love the picture of Tim and the flag. I can’t believe you can’t take pictures there. Maybe they think you’re actually sneaking in some kind of firearm that just looks like a camera. You know–like they have in the movies.
I can’t say that I had talked to those guys for days, but I (did) know the names of the 5 guys who’s birthdays they were celebrating, their ages, how long they’ve been doing this, and where they plan on doing it next year. 😉
Ha ha ha ha. See?!?
I need to find my copy of We Disappear and sit down and re-read it again. I remember that it took me a couple of weeks to finally settle on how I felt about the story, as after my first reading I felt discombobulated(sp?) for a spell.
And a great entry. I need to make a trek to New Orleans soon.
Not exactly a “feel-good” book, right? Resonates at a much deeper, more primal level.
Big flag
Now I know where all o’my bed sheets went! (And, quite possibly, the entire town’s too!) ~shakes fist~
(That would make a smashing headline: Town Bedsheets Missing! with a sub-story, very low-key, in the far left column about some unheard of flag being presented to the Galleria in however many months.)
Re: Big flag
My current favorite bedsheets would make an odd flag. Colorful, though. =)
Re: Big flag
Susan (a previous manager at my previous job and still a friend) does her own quilting: http://members.cox.net/kratersge/
PS- From the DC PRIDE homepage, http://www.capitalpride.org,
http://www.capitalpride.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/presidentialproclamation.pdf
Re: Big flag
Wow, Susan’s quilts are ART! Gorgeous.
Thanks for the link to the president’s proclamation for Pride.
No photos at one of Houston’s leading tourist attractions? That’s sad. I mean, you can’t take pictures at NASA’s Space Center either(I don’t believe), but this seems less…reasonable. I mean people take pictures of themselves in front of Gucci, Prada and Armani on the Via Condotti in Rome (and Bvlgari!), and maybe for some people this is just as exciting. Or am I being ridiculous? I don’t know.
I don’t think you’re being ridiculous. People come from all over the world to shop in the upscale stores of the Galleria. Plus the building has some interesting architectural features. And there’s the ice rink and tons of opportunity for people watching (and photographing).
It may not be Rodeo Drive or Fifth Avenue, but the same impulse that compels people to take pictures in those places and on the Via Condotti or the Left Bank exists in the Galleria.
Of course, I don’t know if you can take pictures at NASA or not.
You’d know if Mark G. Harris wasn’t so ornery. (I wonder if I’m safe from his ire for saying that? Surely he doesn’t come back and check people’s comments…)
Bonjour. >:|
Je ne parle pas le Français.
haha
(Le ha! le ha!)
Now of course I’m dying to know what Tim smells like. I’ll have to go take a whiff of that stuff the next time I’m at the mall (which could be months, but still.)
Tuesday I thought I was going crazy. Or else that Janet Evanovich was a REALLY effective writer. I was rereading the last Stephanie Plum book in preparation for the upcoming release of the next one in the series, and I kept swearing I smelled Bvlgari Green Tea, even though Tim was nowhere around. And Ranger wasn’t even in the book that much!
When Tim came home, he asked if I’d noticed how Rex smelled. He gave him a spray of the Bvlgari in the morning.
I bet if the security guard saw what a beautiful picture you’d taken he’d have asked for a copy . . .
What a very romantic gesture – finding out how a character in a book smells. We do so associate people and places by their smell, don’t we? A huge bank of memory can be disturbed by just one whiff.
Here’s to breakfast-in-bed!! (One of my favourite things, especially on holiday!).
“They” say our hearing is the last sense to leave us when we’re shuffling off this mortal coil. For me, it’s more likely it’ll be my sense of smell.
2 days
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what’s up?
it is a Barbie doll, isn’t it????
No Barbie doll yet.
I had a day planned. It didn’t quite go as intended. I’m sparing the world my mood.
Ah. You need the one i have here for you.
on a totally different subject. I HATE graduation invoices.
Hello! I’m not sure if the email I have for you still works, so here I am. I’m at my storage shed, and I do declare I have two Harley Barbies waiting to be relocated. I could even send the Harley-motorcycle if I can find it, and you want it.
Perhaps we could go to email for the arrangements? My email is linda at annwn dot com. 🙂