Tag: houston

Blind Pig

A couple of weeks ago I went to Murder By The Book for Louise Penny’s signing of her new novel The Beautiful Mystery. This Canadian author has included MBTB on her book tours for most of her releases, I think, and I first learned about her through one of their newsletters. And oh, what a fortuitous thing that was, because I love all of her Inspector Gamache mysteries. This was my first time to hear and meet her, and I–along with a standing-room only crowd–enjoyed her so much. By turns funny and touching, always respectful toward her writing and her characters, and an engaging oral storyteller as much as with her writing, Louise Penny is a don’t-miss if she comes to your city.

My dilemma as I prepared to go to her signing was this: All eight of the Armand Gamache mysteries are on my Nook. What could I ask her to sign? My only physical book was an import I’d picked up at MBTB once that was already autographed, a GoodReads Canada Literacy copy of The Hangman. I did take this with me so Ms. Penny could inscribe it to me, which she graciously did.

It also occurred to me that I could take my Moleskine, put my “buyer number” in it, and ask her to sign that page. She was more than happy to do so, and went me one better. She said they keep a guest book at home in which visitors draw a “blind pig.” The pig is not blind, but the artist closes his or her eyes to draw the pig. She asked if she could do this in my Moleskine, and of course I was thrilled to say yes.

Louise Penny, you are the best. Thank you for your wonderful novels and for your charm, wit, and grace.

Six Things

  1. The last time I went to the post office, I had a package from Rob, also known as The Smiling Bagel. I call him St. Louis’s goodwill ambassador, because his blog always makes me want to visit that city. He sent me some bottle caps for my ongoing art series. I haven’t painted in a while. Maybe this is the nudge I needed. It wasn’t until I photographed the bottle caps and uploaded the picture that I became aware of….
  2. A tiny wrapped package of pressed pennies from the St. Louis Zoo featuring a train, a hippo, a peacock, and a butterfly. See what I mean about how he promotes his home city? He remembered that I like to collect pressed pennies from tourist attractions, and now I have four new ones. Thank you so much, Rob–for the bottle caps and the pressed pennies!
  3. In going through some old pictures, I found this photo of my mother’s desk. I think Laura and Jess got that desk. The four paintings on the top are four of my One Word Art paintings that she once picked out for either her birthday or Christmas. They were the four that spoke to her, she said. Rather than reclaiming them, I believe I sent them with a box of stuff to Daniel. I’d forgotten them until I saw this photo. I believe they are, left to right, “Trust,” “Surrender,” “Plant,” and “Learn.”
  4. I’m reading Karl Soehnlein’s novel Robin and Ruby.
    I wanted to photograph one of Barnaby’s bigger-than-your-head salads to show you how enormous it is. I usually get a dinner, the next day’s lunch, and maybe a third small salad out of one of these. The salad is excellent, but their ranch dressing is THE BEST. It’s great for dipping fries in, too.
  5. When Jim was here, one afternoon we went to the Menil Collection and the Cy Twombly Gallery. I have to go back to the Menil soon. The next day, we hit up the Museum of Fine Arts, the Lawndale Art Center, and Houston Center for Contemporary Craft. The last is where Jim got me into trouble when he posed for me–it was like the dozenth photo I’d taken, but only when Jim got all goofy were we told, “You can’t take photos of the art here!” Oops. I’d like to say I feel remorse, but I don’t (and I didn’t use a flash). I do recommend that particular exhibit: INTERSTITIAL SPACES: JULIA BARELLO & BEVERLY PENN. It’s there until September 1.
  6. I finally persuaded myself to download Instagram to my iPhone. That’s my first photo: Pixie and Penny all bored, watching out the window for something exciting like a squirrel to appear. I don’t know how much I’ll use Instagram–I have two other photo apps on my phone that I never use. I need to feel the heft of a camera in my hands. But at least now I can look at other people’s Instagram galleries, and some of their pictures are beautiful and creative.

I was not compensated by any businesses, artists, or products mentioned in this post other than sales of my own art work.

Legacy Writing 365:225

August 12 is the birthday of Mark G. Harris, who not only did the first Runway Monday with Tim and me, but was also a contributor to Fool For Love and once endured a hurricane and its aftermath with the residents and dogs of The Compound and RubinSmo Manor.

We venture out to see the damage, and Lindsey bites Mark for practice in case it’s the Zombie Apocalypse.

Monday is the birthday of Lynne’s late sister, our friend Liz. It’s always really hard for me to call her that, because when she was young, she got the nickname “Toota.” That and “Toota Bob” are all I ever called her, even when everyone else started calling her Liz.

I like dipping into Lynne’s old family photos because they remind me that even though our childhoods were in two different worlds and many miles apart, certain iconic scenes are repeated. Tom’s family photos are the same. Here are a few featuring my big-sister-by-choice.


Liz, Lynne, and their older siblings Amanda and Chap. Good looking kids!

I love this photo because I, too, had an older sister who wanted to be a cowboy and got a holster and guns one Christmas, like Liz who’s shooting the photographer. It looks like Lynne might be the one telling her who to shoot–always so bossy! Then in the middle is pretty Amanda, who’s reached that part of the teen years when you realize there might be memories you want to hold on to. I, too, had a scrapbook, but it was a hobby that had all but died by my adolescence (historians place the blame on photo albums) until it exploded into an industry again in the 1990s, this time for adult hobbyists. It’s still going strong.


All grown up now, and Liz looks distressed that I’m flinging myself at this dolphin at Six Flags.


Here, Jess is (barely) being held by his great-aunt Lil at the bar in Lynne’s parents’ kitchen with me, Liz, and Craig. I can’t remember having all that hair.


Aunt Toota with Jess. She endured a lot of health problems and was one of the most stoic people I ever knew. But feeling bad could make her moody and sometimes caused her to keep strangers and even people she loved at arm’s length. However, kids were always drawn to her because she had a way of making you feel safe, like everything was going to be okay. I know this because I was one of the first kids whose silly butt she had to haul all over the place and look out for. I miss her, and I know her family misses her, too.

Legacy Writing 365:217

Tom and I were just trying to remember our introduction to Barnaby’s cafe. I doubt either of us ate there before we moved into Montrose, because I don’t remember going there with Steve R/ Jeff/John/Tim R. So our most likely first time there was 1997. I know we were already regulars by the time I met Rhonda online late that year, because it was one of those things we bonded over in our chat room. Just about all the locals love Barnaby’s. I’m betting it was James who took me there first. In those days, there was only one location, the original on Fairview. Next door in the same building is Baby Barnaby’s which absolutely can’t be beat if you wake up early enough to have breakfast there. James, Steve V, and I used to go there frequently.

In time, the River Oaks Barnaby’s opened, then the one on West Gray. There’s another in Houston, but it’s outside the ‘hood, so I’ve never been there. Barnaby’s is our go-to place for takeout for us and visiting family and friends, and it’s also the place I go with my suburban friends and out-of-town guests. Which location we choose depends on how many of us there are, time of day, etc., because the restaurants’ sizes vary. But one thing has always been true. Whether I’ve been there with straight friends or gay, male or female, off-beat or buttoned-down, with or without kids, we’ve always been treated with the same courtesy. I like keeping my dollars local, and I like knowing my friends will be respected not only as patrons but as people.

Jim treated Tom and me to lunch there on Wednesday. Tim wasn’t able to go, because he was battling a virus and allergies off and on during the week–and really, with the amount of intolerant and hurtful comments he had to see online last week, I think chicken was the last thing he wanted. Jim, on the other hand, had a grilled chicken sandwich because he knew it came without sides of indifference or malice (neither of those is as tasty as Barnaby’s fries!).

This should make Puterbaugh feel a little nostalgic.