THE 49ERS!

'As I spoke to Steph, last Sunday, she asked, "How hot is it there?"  Samantha and I were sitting by the pool, sunglasses on, and I was dressed in a sleeveless top and shorts.  We told her that it was in the mid 80's, but we were expecting a cool down.   That evening, Dana and I went to pick up some barbecue, and brought it back to watch 'the game'.  We had not intended to watch Superbowl LIV, but the commercials looked like they might provide some entertainment, and an acquaintance whom we 'bump into' each week is a huge '49ers' fan, having lived most of her childhood in San Francisco!  We did not have a 'dog in the hunt', but I veered towards the Californian team, more out of 'sisterly solidarity' than anything else.  After all, this year marks the centenary of the 19th amendment being officially adopted, allowing all women the right to vote!  Much as supporting the '49ers', with a fellow woman does not a sisterhood make, (and the '49ers' were not founded until nearly three decades after the 19th amendment was ratified,) I can rarely watch a game without having a slight leaning one way or the other!   Suffice it to say, the Kansas Chiefs took the title, and I felt non the worse for wear, other than a slight pang of compassion for my fellow sister!  My delight was not in how the game was played but the fact that I received a complementary Cherry Cobbler with my dinner, as there was not enough for a whole portion, and they chose to just 'throw it in'.  As far as I was concerned the 'bowl' of cobbler I received was more than adequate, well over half of what I usually receive, and definitely super!  However, despite puns and a little American history, I digress!

Sunday evening was glorious.  It was as warm as a spring, almost summer night, and although Monday was not quite as hot, it was very pleasant.  

Commercials were discussed on Monday morning, and the game along with the half time show hardly brought forth a comment.  As a full Texas contingency filled the office, Kansas and California were of no consequence, and 'Bud light', 'Ford', and 'Cheetos' were what we took from the previous evenings entertainment.  The name of the winning quarterback was as irrelevant as that of the losing counterpart, and all we were interested in was, "Is it going to snow?"  Yes, the balmy temperatures were going to plummet.  I received an email from a publication to which I apparently subscribe, saying that we should just all 'shut up shop' as temperatures were dipping, snow was probable, and hey, that is what we do when we are told there is a possibility of white flakes falling from the sky.  Welcome to Texas, Y'all!  (It never gets old!)

There were various reasons to celebrate on Monday night.  We wanted to thank Edward for fixing our computers, Dana and I wanted to show our appreciation to our office staff, and Edward had officially received a promotion, which although was not common knowledge yet among his peers, and subordinates, we had been made aware of the rather wonderful event.   We had planned to go on Thursday, but the Brazilian Steakhouse was having a special offer, that included dessert.  Of course, ordinarily, there is no room for dessert after partaking of the extensive salad bar, and then eating your fair share of a large cow, sheep and chicken, but the offer of 'dessert included' was too much to pass up!  Blake had never been to Estancia, and this was another reason for splashing out on what was rather an extravagant Monday night dinner.  

Perhaps Tuesday night, or even Wednesday would have been a better option to eat so much that it caused, what apparently is known as 'meat sweats'.  Perhaps in retrospect, it is better not to each that much, but I woke just before midnight, having had a little more than thirty minutes sleep, in rather a state!  I knew I had consumed more than was good for me, but promised myself an easy day on Tuesday.  It appears I was not alone.  Most of the table had taken home their desserts, but I had opted for what could only, really, be described as a 'smoothie', with an alcoholic syrup poured on top.  I stopped the waiter at about a dessertspoonful, although he was willing to pour quite a bit more over the pink concoction.  This together with the amount of other delicacies, that would have sent a dietitian running to a therapist for shock treatment, I was somewhat the worse for wear in the morning!  However, it had been fun, and the non-event of Sunday evening was so far in the past, a 'forty niner' would be a temperature that we would hope for the following day!

It was a cooler start to the morning on Wednesday, and I drove to Joe.  The rain had started to sprinkle, and the wind had picked up.  Dinner was in three crockpots, as I had ventured to make a vegetarian cassoulet for my friend Paul.  My one concern was the possibility of the electricity going out during the day due to impending storms.  At seven minutes past the hour, as if like clockwork, the postman entered the office, to pick up my day's outgoing mail.  "Be careful out there tonight.  Snow's on its way!"  We were still a little dubious as to whether we would actually see any of the white precipitation, as although it was colder, I had been sitting by the pool in eighty degree temperatures on Sunday, and the following Sunday looked like it would be a similar story!  However, the 'never gets old' saying rang through my ears.  Welcome to Texas, Y'all!  Thankfully, upon my return home, the crockpots were still on!  However, the beans in the cassoulet, despite having been soaked overnight, and simmering all day, were still hard.  I turned up the temperature.  Outside, the temperature was dropping rapidly.

Saving myself some washing up did not work out.  The cassoulet went from two crockpots to an ovenproof dish, into the oven.  After ten minutes, I realised this was probably not the most effective way to cook the beans, so the contents were transferred to a saucepan.  I looked at my sink, stacked up with two medium dishes, and a larger one, along with a few other things.  The main reason behind the crockpot dishes was to give me time to prepare my downstairs area for workmen coming on Monday.  After many years of deliberation, we had finally decided to have the 'popcorn' removed from the ceiling.  Although our condos were built in the seventies, the ceiling, in my opinion, is a real '49er'.  A 1949er!  Most of the units have had theirs removed, and although it is only cosmetic, it is impossible to keep clean!  I remember removing the 'artex' from the ceiling in my first house, and it is the memory that has prompted us to bring in a firm of professionals!  "They can start Thursday if you want.  Or Monday morning?", said Dana on Wednesday morning, but despite the urgency, in my mind, determination gave way to practical and I realised there was no way I could remove all the 'loose' items from the living area, and my bedroom before the weekend!  

The snow started to fall long before midnight.  The wind was howling as I looked out of the window.  "How do you know it's snowing?" said Dana.  "Look at the car downstairs", I said.  "You mean the white car?" said Dana.  "Yes", said I.  "It's a white car!" said Dana.  "With a white windscreen", said I.  "And it's a blue car!"  I recognised my neighbors car, covered in snow.  Grant had sent us a message to say he had arrived home safely, albeit nearly an hour and a half after he had left.  The journey normally takes a little over thirty minutes.  Samantha had been sending me videos of her patio, and the flurries that were confusing the dogs!  

It was freezing Thursday morning, literally.  Thirty two degrees in the scale that we use, and a very round zero on the other scale.  We were heading for a '49er' but it would be brief!  I ran up and down my stairs, wondering (not for the first time) why I have so many knick-knacks, and then reminding myself that I like being surrounded by things that remind me of home, that make me feel like I am at home, and what makes my home!  Pictures were removed from the walls, ornaments from tops, and my 'seasonal' hearth became a piece of tile!  I ventured out into the bitter winds to go to work, and our lunchtime walk was brisk!  Upon arriving home, I looked into an empty house, and sighed.  It looked like we were ready to move!  "Wow!  I like it!" said my husband.  "It's so clean and you can see the straight lines!"  I did not flinch!  "Do you want me to get rid of all our stuff?" I asked.  "Heck no!" he responded.  "This is a house.  You make it a home", was the right answer!  Dana could live in a cardboard box, as long as it had a roof, a light and a bed!  Perhaps a couple of electrical outlets would be preferable too! I like organised chaos!  Opposites attract?  

Friday was glorious.  A chilly morning gave way to a beautiful afternoon, and we romped around the block in t-shirts.  A warm breeze helped us on our way.  

The 'Sweater Shop' was an English based company that was in existence for a quarter of a century, going into receivership in 1998. This little bit of history will not afford me any Nobel prizes, nor get my team into the Superbowl next year, (we rely on hope!) but suffice it to say, in its twenty five years of existence, I purchased one item!  Moving to the (mostly) warm climes of Texas, I have had little use for such an article of clothing, and for many years,  it remained on the top shelf of my wardrobe.  On a 'reshuffle' a year or two ago, instead of wiping the shelf and replacing everything I don't wear back in place, I brought it down a couple of levels.  I have worn it about three times in the same amount of years.  It washes beautifully, and because of the rare usage, it looks like new.  It really is one of those pieces that you can honestly say, "What this old thing?", when people comment.  Comment they did on Saturday!  Sixty degrees is the new cold for me, and I ventured out in my jeans, brown 'Lucchese' boots, Stetson and Sweater Shop jumper.  With my hair in braids, I could have been going shopping, or for an audition to play Calamity Jane or Annie Oakley!  I did not give my appearance much thought when I entered the stores, but I received an abundance of compliments.  "Love the hair!", "Love the swedder", came the remarks.  "What, this old thing?"  I was reveling in the glory, and making light comments such as "Thank you, I can listen to this all day".  Standing at the check-out, a man in a short sleeved shirt approached me, and said, "My friend and I are a couple of counters over, and we are from Minnesota.  We arrived Wednesday".  I looked at him with a curious stare.  That was nice, I thought, and....!  "We just wanted to say, your look is amazing!"  I thanked him profusely, and he went back to his 'friend'.  I paid for my goods and saw them walking out.  "Have a great day!" said I.  "Amazing.  We arrived Wednesday", said the man from Minnesota, "It was snowing.  We came here today, saw you dressed like a typical Texan, and you turn out to be British!"  I laughed and told him that is because Texans in Austin usually wear flip flops and shorts!  After a brief conversation regarding the fact that he was the only person wearing "this shirt", on Wednesday, (and Samantha commenting that it was time he put on a new shirt!) presumably indicating that a northerner did not consider our freezing temperatures as cold, and how he had an English friend back in the land of ten thousand lakes, I said, "Welcome to Texas", leaving out the 'Y'all' as my husband would have reveled in the Americanisation of his English wife, for a good couple of months, we said our farewells.  

Glorious as it was on Saturday, Sunday saw the rain come in with a vengeance.  Although the temperatures were mid sixties, it was not pool weather this weekend!  I was somewhat relieved as I did not want to have to miss an opportunity to sit out in the sun, but knew I had to continue with the 'prep' for Monday.  

The week has been rather tempestuous with a lot of political drama covering the news, and 49 now does not belong to the 'ers', but refers to the amount of states left to vote in the 'primaries'.  The Superbowl is a distant memory, as is my first Sunday in February by the pool!  Next week will be just as tempestuous, although I am not talking politically, unless it is referring to me being 'politically correct' as I evaluate the amount of cleaning I have to do at the end of each day, despite my workers coming highly recommended and promising not to make a mess!  Time will tell and my mood will no doubt be reflected in .... another story!