Happy March, Everyone!!
This promises to be a busy rest-of-the week---Sis will be here any minute, the guest rooms are all ready, BabyGirl is watching Fifi the Flowertot while I finish up the kitchen, and another one of those still-warm carrot cakes with the cream-cheese-pecan frosting is perfuming the whole house with spices.
Sis and I hope to spend whole mornings over our coffee, sitting upstairs in the sitting-room sunshine (though she DID confide from her Deep-South heart that a gentle drift of snowflakes past the windows would not go amiss, just for the cozy factor). We want to look at more old pictures, name the long-ago relatives and friends if we can, and put the names on the backs. It's so sad to lose track of our Roots just because the pictures come down the generations with no clue as to who or what or which side of the family they were.
And we have whole gaggles of Paxton folks circulating through our heads---church folks and townfolk and folks scattered on their farms and little bits of land. They will be from our memories, our wishes, and our imaginations, with no insinuation of which is which, since they will be like long-worn quilts from a fragrant old cedar-chest: scraps and pieces of whole cloth, aprons and dresses and shirts and a bolero or two, or a small snip from the MOTHER pillow sent from Japan by Carey Luke Bishop, while he was overseas. All the pieces will be separate, different colors and patterns, velvet and gingham and denim and suede---good broadcloth and flimsy voile, all cut and sewn into a pattern and a story and a town.
She and I always have a laughing, crying good time---we share our own stories since we last saw each other, we reminisce over old times, we remember folks fondly or with longing or regret or even a smitch of irritation, as is true of everyone's remembrances.
I've got Things in Dishes in the fridge: Paminna Cheese, Egg and Olive and a BIG bowl of Chicken Salad with apples and grapes, along with a box of fresh croissants and lots of nice crackers. With pitchers of iced tea and endless percolators of coffee---that spells a good, easy visit, with a stop for a nibble and a cup and a walk around the neighborhood if the weather stays sunny.
She's good company, with a good warm laugh and an easy kind of settling-in which makes her at home and us glad to have her here. We'll be in the kitchen together, as well---she'll be making her marvelous Chicken Enchiladas for us one night, with REAL Texas guacamole---I've got five avocados at the peak of their shiny selves.
We'll have Chinese takeout one night, and go to a restaurant that we love on another. And we'll talk. We'll probably both be hoarse at the end of her visit, waving silently down the airport concourse.
So, if you don't see me for a few days---we'll be right upstairs. Or gone to lunch. Or at a bookstore. The possibles are the best part, after the good company we're keeping.