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| Jrdan's charcuteries |
It’s been almost seven years since I moved into the cottage. At first, everyone was curious to see my digs. The idea of living in a converted garage full time was new, and friends were curious. We live in a neighborhood where many older homes, like mine, had guest cottages that were really converted servants’ quarters. Oh sure, some people fixed them up as rental property—which led to my kitchen facilities being limited by a zoning ordinance, but that’s another story. Still, I think the idea that I would move out of my three-bedroom house into a 600 square foot cottage was a bit surprising. So it was like Field of Dreams—if you build it, they will come.
And come they did, every night. Jordan and I fixed elaborate finger food, often charcuterie but sometimes other offerings such as tea sandwiches or dip and chips or whatever. It challenged my kitchen creativity, and I enjoyed it. But happy hour began to take a toll on my work time, and the wine bill was pretty high. So we began to cut back. These days, I may put out a bowl of chips or a wedge of cheese, but that’s it, and many “regulars” bring their own drinks, partly because they know my wine cellar and liquor cabinet are extremely limited and partly to help my budget. It all works out.
Tonight, however, we went back to a full charcuterie board. Subie and Phil are preparing to move to Trinity Terrace, and Subie’s sister Cynthia and her husband from Colorado Springs are here to help pack. We calculated tonight that Subie and I have known each other at least forty-five years. I didn’t think in all that time I’d ever met Cynthia, although she said tonight she thought maybe we’d met many years ago. Whatever, I was delighted to have them all for happy hour.
I spent some time debating appetizers and finally settled on a charcuterie board, over crab bites or some other favorites. I thought that would be plenty for the seven of us. Then I spent time deciding what to include—a couple of things I had in the fridge, like a really nice jar of marinated artichoke hearts and a tub of pub cheese. I bought the slightest amount of three meats from Central Market and splurged on olives because Christian loves them. In fact, I had so much I ruled out some items—like a sliced apple and honey to go with the blue cheese (too hard to serve and sticky). Jordan ruled out some leftover horseradish/crème fraiche sauce which would have been good with ham but, again, was too hard to serve. I ordered a baguette—and forgot to ask to have it sliced, a mistake I won’t make again. And somehow my grocery order included some odd chips I never ordered—they got saved for another time.
Faced with all that, I wondered how to arrange it. Jordan to the rescue—she took charge and created a beautiful arrangement. Together we make a pretty darn good team.
So there we were—seven people in the cottage (which pushes my seating capacity) on one of the hottest nights of the year. We turned on both a/c units and shut the door I usually keep open. Given the temperature, Phil did not bring his dog, Porter, but Sophie was inside with us the entire time.
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| Sophie getting sympathy |
Soph has been a happy hour problem—bad habits have overtaken us. She has learned that if she barks enough she’ll get a treat to silence her. I’ve been trying to break the cycle, but it requires enduring the barking—eventually she runs out and settles down. Tonight we tried something new—her leash. I put it on her and kept her near me—and she lay quietly. When we finally took it off, she jumped up on the couch, apparently to tell the out-of-town visitors what a hard life she has, and they responded with appropriate sympathy.
It was a jolly evening, with Subie and me reciting for Cynthia how we’d met and some of our shared adventures over the years—the time the three of us went to the Caribbean for Christmas because my oldest child was there, or the time the Burtons and I visited the cabin in New Mexico that Subie and her sisters share. Lots of good times in our history, and I’m hoping they’ll continue after they move into the retirement community.
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| serious talk on jolly evening |
I think our move into more elaborate happy hours is a one-time thing, although Subie has another sister who will be here soon. Got to get my thinking cap on. But Mary is coming for her regular Tuesday night visit tomorrow—I’ll pull out what’s left from tonight, and she will bring what’s left from a Zoom cooking class she did today on front porch entertaining. Leftovers are part of the fun.
If you’re in Texas—or reading the newspapers anywhere else—you know it’s hot. Ninety-five at ten o’clock as I write, and they say it will last all week. Knock on wood, the cottage is blessedly comfortable, and Sophie and I stay inside and go about our business. But the yard guys came tonight at five o’clock, and I thought what a long, hot day it has been for them. I love living in Texas—most of the time—but it does sometimes test one’s patience.
Stay cool and safe, please.