Tag: compound

Leaving on a jet plane

In a little while, Mark G. Harris will be departing The Compound. Even though he’ll be blindfolded and driven in an indirect route to the airport, I have a sneaking suspicion he’ll be smuggling out some photos on his cell phone.

It’s been such a good visit, with a lot of conversation about writing and a lot of not doing much of anything, which is what he wanted. We’ve watched a ton of movies while eating Puterbaugh Popcorn–for some reason, all mushy romantic stuff, including Falling in Love, Heartburn, Crossing Delancey, Baby Boom, and Juno. One night we watched Across the Universe, which I thoroughly enjoyed because of the Beatles music and its look back at the tumultuous Sixties, but it made me miss Riley very much.

Last night, it was All Mark Request Night. Since he wanted to eat corn on the cob before he left, we had that with steak and this fabulous salad:


baby bella mushrooms and red bell pepper on a bed of baby spinach, with walnuts, crumbled bacon, and a choice of crumbled feta or blue cheese.

After a farewell visit from Rhonda, Lindsey, and Sugar, we watched Mark’s movie choice: Working Girl. I don’t think I’d ever seen the beginning, but I always relish Sigourney Weaver’s character (much the way I like Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada). I also appreciate all the views of the World Trade Center. Seeing it makes me happy and sad, which I guess is nostalgia. In fact, it feels like the theme of Mark’s visit has been nostalgia (even though I learned the shocking fact that MGH has never seen The Way We Were!).

Now I know what’s on the movie list for his next visit.

Friends: Random

1. In my kitchen, I have these two small, framed pieces of needlework that my mother did for me ten thousand years ago. EVERY time I see them, I think of Lindsey. Why? Because one is constantly askew, and I adjust it, knowing that if Lindsey were in my kitchen, it would drive her crazy. Here’s Lindsey getting a little R&R in the kitchen dog bed.

Edit: On second thought, maybe Lindsey is curled up in the fetal position because she noticed the crooked pictures.

2. This is a really low-quality photo shot with my cell phone of Lynne holding Lila.

I include it here so I can talk about Maggiano’s. I’d been trying to get a lot of errands done in a short period of time, and one of them included picking up something from Lynne. Rather than let me just dash in and out of the restaurant, she bought my lunch and made me sit and relax with her, Laura, and Lila. Sometimes a friend knows what you need better than you do. But here’s the thing about Maggiano’s. They have these columns covered with signed photos of various celebrities, sports figures, and such, many of them Houston locals. I’ve long threatened to send in a framed cover of A Coventry Christmas and write some gushing remark on it like “Thank you for hosting us after my signing!” (never happened) just to see if I can make the wall–even though I’m about as far from a local celebrity as there could be.

3. This is Mark G. Harris’s last full day at The Compound this trip. I’m already missing the idea of movie-and-popcorn nights. But I know my loss will be the Internet’s gain, because no matter how I’ve implored, he has refused to post in his LiveJournal until his return home. He’s a stubborn man. But a good dishwasher.

4. It’s one week until Lenny Kravitz’s and Stevie Nicks’s birthdays. If you don’t know what that means, you haven’t been paying attention. For quite some time, Rex has been daydreaming about what kind of cake I might bake.

The Lindsey Post

Lindsey’s on her way out of town and she won’t SEE this until everyone else has. Heh.

Last night, The Brides came over for dinner (ham and spinach casserole; fresh, steamed broccoli; salad; and rolls demanded by Mark G. Harris). For dessert, Lindsey made us GOOP. What is this goop, you ask? It is undercooked brownies, hot from the oven. Served alone, goop is fab, but with Bluebell (“The Best Ice Cream in the Country”) Vanilla Bean Ice Cream, it’s better than that time the strapping young Jones boy from next door lost his swimming trunks in the Presbyterian College pool.

In tribute to Lindsey and goop, this post is all about her.

of course there are photos!

Monday night

Monday night after a visit with my mother, I was supposed to run errands, but I just didn’t feel like it. I wanted to be home. When I came in the back door, I was fiddling around while Tom got Tim so we could all watch Y&R. When Tom came back in, he asked if I’d been in the living room yet.

I hadn’t. I immediately knew why he’d asked, but I delayed gratification as long as I could, because I knew it was going to be wonderful.

and it is

Some suckage, with a happy ending

Remember how long I put off buying my new camera, but I finally decided that I wanted a reward for finishing A COVENTRY WEDDING (okay, a PRE-reward, but who’s counting), and I wanted to have enough time with the camera to get comfortable using it before Saints & Sinners in May.

On Thursday, an INCIDENT with the camera left the pop-up flash inoperative. It would still pop up, but wouldn’t fire. I went by the store where I bought it, but they were closed, so I had a bad night worrying about it on top of my other things to worry about. (I try to keep plenty of those going; how else will I look YEARS older than 35?)

On Friday, I had some unpleasant business to take care of, but I also made a trip to the camera shop after calling them. First, Camera Guy gave me the news I most dreaded hearing: camera must be shipped to Nikon for repair. After I got all basset-hound eyed, another person came and looked at it, just in case, but he agreed. Then I asked if we could try putting a separate flash attachment on it. If that worked, I’d buy the flash, take the camera to New Orleans, and upon my return, happily surrender the camera to Nikon for repair.

At first, Number 2 Camera Guy thought it didn’t work because he couldn’t make the camera shoot at all. Ahem. I reached over and removed the lens cap.

SUCCESS! The new flash worked! When I was handing over my credit card, Camera Guy asked me why I had two driver’s licenses, and I told him one was expired. He [jokingly] offered to take it off my hands so he could sell it to some underage chick who wanted to look, uh, 35 when she went out drinking. To protect any remaining Bush grandkids (hey, my concern for America’s youth is bi-partisan), I took his scissors and cut up the old license.

I paid for the flash, went on my happy way, and took care of that other worrisome stuff. On my way home, after taking out a loan so I could put gas in Jet (it’s cheaper to buy camera equipment these days than to keep a car full of gas, and my SUV is FUEL-EFFICIENT, so no lectures), I called Lindsey. She and Rhonda were game to come over for take-out, non-Passover violating food from Barnaby’s, so I COULD have had a pleasant evening.

Except…once I got the camera home and began looking through the viewfinder, everything seemed all blurry. I thought maybe the INCIDENT had done more than disable my flash, so I got all panicked. When Lindsey arrived and looked through the viewfinder, she then glanced at me like I was maybe a little crazy. I tried it again. No camera: I could see all right. Camera in front of my face: everything blurry. Though I’d never had to do this with the D40 or any other camera before, I had to put on my glasses to see clearly through the viewfinder.

Lindsey suggested stress was blurring my vision. Tim got this LOOK on his face, and when I questioned him, he said, “You think?” Then he told me I was doing a good imitation of Regis when he gets all worked up about something. I told him he could only call me Regis if he pretended to be Kathie Lee and told me stories about Cody. He declined.

Anyway, at about 3 a.m., as I lay in bed convinced that I had 201 incurable eye diseases, I suddenly remembered there’s some kind of little switch next to the viewfinder. I made a mental note to check that out, but didn’t get out of bed because a huge storm was rolling in and Margot was already tucked between my feet under the covers trembling.

But I did check it this morning. It’s something called a “diopter adjustment” switch. When I changed it, I could suddenly see again! It was a miracle, just like the first Photography Miracle! When I told Lindsey, she wondered why she could see through it okay but it was blurry for me. I suggested that her young eyes may adapt and refocus more readily than mine, which is when she reminded me that I’m only 35.

So I’m still keeping my eye appointment this afternoon. But I wanted to post what turned out to be a non-story because of this diopter switch if for no other reason than to spare Mr. Puterbaugh, who bought the same model camera, a future incident of screaming, “My eyes! My eyes!” Because no one may be around to make him laugh by calling him Regis.

I wanted to take photos of the moon…

…but we are having a VERY active palmetto bug breeding season which, for those who don’t know, means ginormous flying nocturnal roaches.

Dear Snow Haters: Tropical climates have drawbacks.

Where’s Mark G-is-for-Gallant Harris when I need him?

Hopefully I can get something beautiful and palmetto bug-free posted for Earth Day sometime on Tuesday.

Button Sunday

I vowed, when I was trying to finish A COVENTRY WEDDING, that if I ever did, I was going to do nothing but watch a whole day of America’s Next Top Model marathons. Today was MY DAY! I didn’t get to see an entire season, but I did see four or five hours.

Sadly, I can’t handle the guilt of it all. While watching Tyra Banks be fierce, I compiled my first quarter tax paperwork, balanced two months of my mother’s checking account, and began balancing the first of two months of my checking account. (No comments, please. I’m Old School when it comes to money management, and I still like to see on paper where my money’s going, whether I’m following a reasonable budget, and if the bank and I agree.) I also gave out lots of doggie treats during commercials and started cooking dinner.

How does one become a slacker? I think I may need a crash course.

So here I present today’s button and a bonus:


My nod to Odd Todd, who turned slacking into a career.

And for Rio, a button–with a sentiment I support–for you to wear today:


Have a great birthday!