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This week I did the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. I (with my siblings and my Mom) put my sweet, little, Alzheimer’s afflicted Dad into a nursing home. It hurt like hell, and it still does, so I thought I would just write about what a wonderful, unique individual he was when he was himself.

At Christmas every year, Dad would walk with us kids to McCree Park where he would climb the trees and pick mistletoe. My baby sister Jenny would egg him on to climb higher, further out on the limbs. We would laugh until our sides ached as he dangled precariously from the tree tops. We always took home way more mistletoe than Mom wanted in the house, but Dad always put it over her head first thing and claimed his kiss, and she didn’t complain too much.

Dad was a big fan of University of Arkansas football. The year they played Texas for the National Championship, we were all watching in the den. Arkansas made a fine play, and Dad got so excited he jumped up and knocked the globe out of the chandelier with his head. It flew up in the air, and he caught it as he and the globe both came down. We thought he was pretty special.

My Dad was the biggest fan of jazz that I’ve ever known. His tastes were wide and varied. He loved the straight ahead stuff from Bud Powell and Art Pepper to Thelonious Monk and Miles Davis. And he really loved our local jazz hero, Red Garland. He loved the musicians and the singers and collected them all. He had (actually we still have) every album Billie Holiday ever made and many in duplicate because he would buy the fantastic boxed sets which were released after they were originally done on LP. The same goes for Ella Fitzgerald, Frank Sinatra, Anita O’Day, Mildred Bailey and Benny Goodman. He loved the big bands and collected all of them. And the big band singers - what can I say. The Helens (Forrest, O’Connell, Humes, Ward), June Christy, Peggy Lee, Jo Stafford and his beloved Martha Tilton. His LP collection numbers somewhere between 7,000 and 8,000 and his collection of 78’s runs about half that. And among all that great jazz, you’ll find a smattering of opera, classical, and authentic country such as Mother Maybelle Carter and Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs.

Dad’s love of music was not just in listening. His knowledge was downright encyclopedic. He knew the year a song was recorded, what label it was on, and could name all the musicians. When my brother, Steve, and I would sit for hours and listen with Dad, it was always sort of a game for us to identify the singer and the sidemen accompanying. When I didn’t know the singer, I’d just guess “Helen” because there were so many of them I had a decent chance of being right. This was a terrifically fun game to Steve and me. I was pretty good at the singers, but Steve was much better at the more difficult trivia than I was. The music education I got from my Dad I would compare to one from any institution of higher learning.

Dad was a reader and a writer and challenged us to do both as much as possible. He was a lover of movies and art, and we would make lists of favorite things. My lists of favorite movies, favorite songs, and favorite singers would change with each year. Dad loved Alice Faye, and he said a day never went by that he didn’t think of her. Oscar night was a special night at my house. He was so proud of the Academy when they awarded Midnight Cowboy. He didn’t think they would have the courage. After all, it was the only movie rated R ever awarded (maybe even nominated) for Best Picture. And we all cried for joy when Meryl Streep won for Sophie’s Choice.

I will miss him so much it’s unbelievable. The shell of a body that is left of him will linger, but the essence of the man is gone. And it’s unbearably sad.

It’s new year’s eve, and I’m finishing out the year exactly where I want to be - with LJ at the lake. It’s sunny, in the 50’s, and just beautiful. I’ve been pondering the year soon to be past, and like the others, there have good times and not so good.

We started the year on a very sad note, with our life-long friends Dot and Neill English dying within one day of each other in January. It was unexpected, untimely, and heartbreaking. They were only in their 70’s, and it was ironic that they died one day apart. They were inseparable in life; it’s only fitting that their end was the same.

In March, we celebrated my brother’s birthday with him and his wife here at the lake. It was a lovely weekend and made me very aware of how it seems Steve and I grow closer each year. It’s nice to have that kind of relationship with a brother.

April brought a huge thrill for LJ and me. One of our favorite jazz singers, Stacey Kent, and her husband, jazz saxophonist Jim Tomlinson, came to Edmond, Oklahoma. They headline Ronnie Scott’s in London and Birdland in New York City, and here they were coming to the University of Central Oklahoma of all places! We grabbed reservations and hightailed it. And they did not disappoint. They put on a beautiful show, and we met them and got CD’s signed after the show. If you’re not familiar with them, I highly recommend them.

In May, we took one of the trips a lifetime to Italy with LJ’s sister, Janet. We went to Rome, Tuscany and Bellagio. It was a beautiful journey and it was really good to spend it with Janet. I loved Rome, but San Gimignano and the surrounding area is still my favorite. I will say, though, that my only disappointment with Bellagio was that I didn’t run into Mr. Clooney. I’m sure he’s disappointed, too.

June brought our 39th wedding anniversary. We spent it at the lovely W Hotel with dinner at Lola. I still can’t believe it’s been that long. In some ways it only seems like a few years. I’m ready for many more.

October was a huge month. First, you know if you read this blog that October brought Hurricane Ike which wiped out Bolivar Peninsula and Crystal Beach. It still makes me tear up to think about it. However, we went with the Barnetts to Lake Murray, Oklahoma and had a wonderful time with them like we always do. We’re already talking about trying to get back to Galveston next year even though Crystal Beach is gone. And finally, we had the Hawkins cousins’ reunion at Country Woods Inn in Glen Rose. What a blast. And what a month!

November brought the best news of the year - the election of Barack Obama and Joe Biden. Even though the economy is tanking and the Middle East is teetering on annihilation, there is hope for the future.

I am finishing the year bittersweet. We spent Christmas with my family in Kansas City. While it was really wonderful to be with my Mom and my sisters and their families to celebrate, it is just too difficult to witness how Alzheimer’s destroys a human being from the core out. My Dad is no longer a person I know. It is painful to have your father ask what your name is and whether or not you finished college. I can only hope that this doesn’t drag on for long. As he said when we were there, “I am lost.” I don’t think he’ll be found again on this earth.

But life goes on, and tomorrow will be a new year. It will bring good and bad as it did this year, but it always brings new hopes. And that’s what keeps us all going. HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE.

My favorite new year’s dinner, Chili and Cornbread.

Beef Chili

3 T. vegetable oil
3 lb. ground chuck
3 yellow onions
8 garlic cloves
1 jalapeno
1/2 cup chili powder
2 T. cumin
1 T. oregano
2 t. coriander
1 1/2 cups lager beer
2 1/2 cups beef broth
1 can (28 oz.) crushed tomatoes
1 can kidney beans (rinsed and drained)
1 can pinto beans (rinsed and drained)

Brown ground chuck in 2 tablespoons oil. Drain thoroughly. While meat is draining, saute onions, garlic and jalapeno in remaining oil. Add meat back to pan and add remaining ingredients (through beans) and stir completely. Simmer over low heat for at least one hour or more if desired.

Where do I start? A long time ago, there was an itinerant Presbyterian preacher and his wife and 4 daughters, Betty, Teasa, Deedy, and Wee Wee. They would pack the four girls and all their possessions in the car and ride through Texas spreading the Word. In 1936, this preacher took his wife and girls to Itasca, Texas to become Director of the Presbyterian Children’s Home (I believe it was actually called an orphan’s home back then). Well, the four girls grew up, and three of them married Presbyterian ministers and the fourth, being a bit of a slacker, married a lay Presbyterian who worked at the Home. Anyway, over the years, those girls had a total of 14 children, one of which was LJ. He eventually married me, which is how it is that I’m writing this.

These 14 cousins along with their spouses, significant others, and assorted cohorts have kept in touch and close all these years. Back in 2003, they started having cousins’ reunions at a wonderful B&B in Glen Rose, Texas called Country Woods Inn. We just got back from this year’s reunion, and it was a resounding success - again.

We started as we usually do having a picnic lunch on the grounds at Grace Presbyterian Village in Dallas where the two remaining daughters, Deedy and Wee Wee, live. Sadly, the other two daughters and all of the spouses have passed away. This year, there were 12 of us who could make the trip. We came from Wisconsin, Colorado, Washington, Florida, and, of course, Texas. After we ate our sandwiches and brownies, we piled into cars and made the trek to Glen Rose.

Country Woods Inn is a wonderful place with a big Main House on the property which has 4 B&B bedrooms with private baths, a large living room, dining room, and kitchen. On the property are several other small houses, most of which have been divided into 2 sides to rent. This year we rented the entire Main House, the Saddle House, and the Farm House. We always get the Main House so that we can use the kitchen and large patio to do what we do best, eat and drink.

Upon arrival, we started upacking food and drink in the kitchen, and you would have thought it was for a group of 12 for a week! Assorted chips, dips, veggies, fruit, cookies, brownies, cheese (from Wisconsin, of course), soft drinks, wine, beer, vodka, and tequila for margaritas. When we come to party, we come to PARTY! Then we ensconsed ourselves on the patio and proceeded to reunite. As the laughter was just beginning to get raucous, cousin Dan rolled up in his 1955 Greyhound Scenicruiser Bus. It was just amazing!

Saturday morning, we all gathered in the Main House for Breakfast. I brought my traditional Southwestern Breakfast Casserole and Judy brought tons of fresh fruit. Mary and Kalleen brought coffee and cheese from Wisconsin and Al brought juice. We feasted, and then proceeded to prepare the bus for the journey. At 11:00, we all piled into the Scenicruiser and took off for our Hawkins history tour. We first drove to Hillsboro where we had the BEST Mexican food at a little local place called Montes Cafe. This tiny place pushed tables together and welcomed us with open arms. After mounds of chips and salsa, enchiladas, tamales, chalupas, migas, and a sampling of just about everything else on the menu, we boarded the bus and headed to Itasca.

We went past the grandparents old homestead they had nicknamed “Hilltop” on the way to the Home. At the Home, we got out and roamed the grounds. It was fascinating as an “outlaw” to this bunch to eavesdrop on the reminiscing. The Home has a swimming pool and horses to ride, and, as a child, LJ thought it wasn’t fair that he couldn’t be an orphan, too. It was his considered opinion that they had all the fun. We took the traditional photo of the cousins arranged in order of age, and then headed back to Glen Rose.

That evening all of us invaded a local restaurant in Glen Rose for dinner. It was there that things started to get really goofy. The restaurant specialized (as all good rural Texas restaurants do) in chicken fried steak. A missing word on the menu started it all. Under House Special, it stated, “4 oz. hand battered, fried with mashed potatoes and dinner salad.” Someone immediately figured that we were having fried hand for dinner. About that time, a waitress who was cleaning a nearby table ran her hand between the seat and the back of the banquette and let out a loud yelp. Something had stabbed her. Martha opined that that’s where the restaurant got the hands.

We started getting really giddy over Texas street signs. We imagined cactus prancing across the road at “Plant Crossing” and at the sign warning about “Loose Cows” Martha wanted to know how they knew they were loose. (Red stockings is the give-away.) At this point, Donn, a REAL Texan, said he was getting embarrassed. I was trying to keep from spitting up when an “outlaw” from Colorado via Detroit was asking the waitress to explain the difference between a hamburger and a hamburger steak. I can tell you, if you don’t know, it has to do with buns and sweated onions. I’m just happy the restaurant let us finish our meals instead of tossing us out.

I feel privileged to be a part of this big, loving group of folks, so incredibly diverse and yet all from the same uniquely wonderful gene pool.

Recipe of the day: Mom’s Southwestern Breakfast Casserole
1 1 lb. loaf French bread, cut into large chunks
1 lb. sausage, browned and drained well
1 can green chiles
1 8 oz.package cream cheese, cubed
2 cups shredded cheddar cheese
2 cups shredded Monterey Jack cheese
12 eggs beaten with 2 cups milk

Spray a 9 x 13 pan with Pam. Layer all ingredients in the order given. Cover and refrigerate overnight. Bake at 375 degrees for 45 minutes to an hour. Let rest 10 minutes before serving.

I’m married to a pacifist. An animal loving pacifist; an animal saving, animal loving, real blue pacifist!  But he’s no PETA nut.  He loves a good steak.  When we take walks on the walking trail in our neighborhood, he counts the rabbits.  Our best walk was a 26 bunny night.  He gets a little irritated when we see a bunny up ahead, and further up is someone walking a big dog.  He knows the dog will scare the rabbit away before we get there.  I never know whether to count that rabbit or not.  We saw it, didn’t we?  I think it counts.

He’s always on the lookout for birds.  His father was a serious birder and counted for the Audubon Society.  When he passed away, we found his “life list” which contained over 500 varieties that he had seen.  So over the years, LJ learned to recognize countless varieties of birds.  Since we’ve been married, I’ve learned to recognize, oh, maybe 5.  But he keeps pointing them out to me.  I just know we’re going to run off the highway one day when he spies another hawk at the top of a telephone poll.  “Look, look, it’s a Red Tail Hawk! Did you see it?”  By the time he’s voiced the question we’re way past the hawk and I didn’t even see brown, let alone a red tail (which it really doesn’t have, I’m convinced).

One of the best things he does is save animals from each other and that bitch, Mother Nature.  We have billions of earth worms in our neighborhood.  I don’t know why, but sometimes when we go out for our walks, there will be dead earthworms all over the sidewalk.  Well, occasionally there will be one desperate earthworm, barely squirming on the cement.  You can almost hear him like The Fly in the movie, “help me, help me… .”  Anyway, LJ will carefully scoop the little fellow up and toss him back into a yard, smugly satisfied that he’s just saved another creature from the bitch.

Scout & Zooey

The one thing that is totally unsafe in our house is a gecko.  And the little tiny ones come in some way (we haven’t figured that out yet) and are gecko patties before they know what pounced.  Scout and Zooey play with them until they don’t move any more and then leave them in the floor for me to find and throw away.  Well, the other night, LJ saw a big gecko, probably 4 inches long, way at the top of the wall in our foyer.  The ceilings are 18 feet in there, and this sucker was at the top.  LJ grabbed a fishing pole and a couple of bath towels and rousted me from my “Archie’s chair” to go on a save the gecko mission.  We wound up forcing the gecko off the wall (he fell actually), and LJ threw a towel over him.  He escaped the first towel, but I was a hero with the second one and LJ was able to scoop the little bugger up and throw him back into the night.  He was so proud.  He came back in the house grinning and exclaiming that it didn’t even lose its tail.  Wow!

In honor of the animal kingdom, today’s recipe is vegetarian.

Baked Eggplant with Mushrooms

1 peeled eggplant, cut into ¼ inch slices (about 1 ¼ lb.)

Cooking spray

1 cup chopped onion

½ teaspoon Italian seasoning

¼ teaspoon salt

2 garlic cloves, chopped

1 8 oz. package mushrooms, sliced

black pepper

1 (8 oz.) can tomato sauce

2/3 cup shredded part skim mozzarella cheese

¼ cup freshly grated Parmesan

Preheat broiler

Arrange eggplant slices on a baking sheet coated with Pam.  Broil 3 minutes on each side or until lightly browned.

Preheat oven to 375 ° .

Heat a large non-stick skillet coated with cooking spray over medium heat; add onions and next 4 ingredients (onion through mushrooms).  Cover and cook 7 minutes or until tender, stirring occasionally.  Increase heat to medium high.  Uncover and cook until liquid evaporates.

Spread half of mushroom mixture in bottom of 1 ½ quart baking dish coated with Pam.  Arrange half of eggplant slices over mushrooms. Sprinkle with pepper. Top with half of tomato sauce and half of mozzarella.  Spread remaining mushroom mixture; top with remaining eggplant.  Sprinkle with pepper and top with remaining tomato sauce and cheeses.

Bake, uncovered 5 minutes or until cheese melts.  Let stand 10 minutes before serving.

4 servings.

I blatantly stole the title of today’s post from Blackie Sherrod, a former sports writer for the Dallas Morning News.  I beleive the statute of limitations has run, however, and he won’t mind.  It just seems very appropriate to this post.

I haven’t blogged for awhile.  No excuses.  I have been busy, though.  We went to the Great State Fair of Texas on opening day again this year.  We’ve been doing that for some 20 years.  The weather was wonderful and the fair was fun as always.  We watched dogs catch frisbees, and fools fall from many stories high strapped into a sort of bungee contraption.  We ate, as always, but Kim (who could have been nicknamed stretch as a child) won the consumption title.  She had a Fletcher’s corny dog, roasted corn on the cob, orange sherbet on a stick, ice cream drumstick, and Jacks’ French fries.  Winnah!!!!

We took a weekend trip to Lake Murray, OK.  That was the weekend we were supposed to go to Crystal Beach, but Ike nixed that.  Anyway, Lake Murray is a lovely lake in Oklahoma with the lodge built in the 1950’s.  There are cabins all over the several acres surrounding the lake which can be rented.  It’s really beautiful and has been a lovely way to relax and enjoy nature for many years.  The sad part is, the good people of Oklahoma have not found it in their hearts to designate any tax dollars to keep it up.  So the lodge is falling down around its ears, and many of the cabins have been boarded up.  The decision has been made to privatize Lake Murray park.  The plan is to tear down the lodge and the old cabins and rebuild newer, brighter, better for bigger bucks.  We’re told it will cost “somewhat” more to stay there in the future but all will be great.  I think it’s a shame.  The people who used to go there and enjoy the state owned playground will no longer be able to afford it.  My  political statement of the day is that people who always vote against taxes are voting against themselves; they’re just too short sited to see it.

We’re spending the weekend at our lakehouse on Cedar Creek Lake.  It is so wonderfully relaxing to get away from the Metroplex.  LJ and I have discussed the fact that it’s just physically impossible for us to be uptight and worry about work and such when we’re here.  Everyone should have such a respite.

4 chicken breasts, skinned and boned

1 tablespoon oil

salt and pepper

1/3 cup plain low-fat yogurt

2 tablespoons light cream

1 teaspoon corn starch mixed with 1 tablespoon water

¾ cup unsalted chicken stock

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

2 tablespoons finely chopped shallot

1 small tomato, seeded and chopped

1/3 cup cilantro, coarsely chopped

Heat oil over medium-high heat in skillet.  Season chicken breasts with salt and pepper and saute until cooked through.  Transfer to plate and keep warm.

In a small bowl, stir the yogurt and cream into the cornstarch mixture.  Set aside.

Add garlic and shallot to skillet and saute for 1 minute.  Add stock and lemon juice to skillet, and stir to deglaze pan.  Boil slowly for 3 to 4 minutes until liquid has reduced slightly.  Remove from heat and stir in the tomato and yogurt mixture.  Add cilantro. 

Pour sauce over chicken and serve.

My Dad has advanced Alzheimer’s and is going downhill fast.  Late in the day or evening, he is starting not to know who my Mom is.  But that’s not the half of it; he thinks she’s a man.  At night he tries to throw her out of the bed because he “doesn’t sleep with men.”  It would be funny if it weren’t so fucking sad.  Believe me, my sister doesn’t think it’s funny when she has to go over to their house in the night and calm him down so he won’t throw Mom out!

I idolized my Dad.  He was an English major in college, and the world of words was a treasure to him.  He prided himself in perfect grammar, and he never misused the verbs “to lie” and “to lay.”  (It’s lots harder than you think when you get out of present tense!)  He was a collector of jazz records, and has upwards of 5,000 LP’s and 78’s.  He has every song Billie Holiday ever recorded and just about every one Ella recorded.  He had an encyclopedic memory of all the musicians who played on each recording, and where and when they were recorded.  Today, he picks up the records and looks at them like he’s never seen them before.  He swore to me that someone sent some of them to him in the mail, unsolicited.  It just makes me cry.  However, he still corrected my brother-in-law’s grammar just a few weeks ago.  I think that will be reflexive with him to the end.

He’s always had a phenomenal memory.  He was very politically astute and when he got into discussions with people over political issues, he was able to site facts and quote the pertinent authorities off the top of his head.  In fact, that was when we began to realize he had Alzheimer’s.  He would be in the middle of a political discussion, and all of a sudden no one’s name would come to him.  He would become so frustrated, it would send him into a depression.  I had no idea it would devolve to where we are today.  What a nasty, senseless disease!

For the recipe today, I think we need something comforting (and trouble free) - like soup!

Italian Sausage Soup

2 lbs. Italian sausage (half hot and half sweet, or all sweet, your preference)

2 garlic cloves, minced

2 cans artichoke hearts, drained and chopped

2 cans diced tomatoes (undrained)

1 package Lipton onion soup mix

1 teaspoon each basil and oregano

1 teaspoon Italian seasoning

1/2 cup orzo

In a large soup pot, saute sausage until no longer pink.  Add remaining ingredients and thoroughly mix.  Add water just to cover and simmer at least one hour.  It’s even better made ahead a day and reheated.

LJ asked recently if it was a hint from mother nature that you are too old to be in a band when you have to take a break because one member is getting treated for prostate cancer and another had a stroke.  But no matter, they are still together and playing for one member’s 60th birthday party this weekend.  It’ll be great!

It’s been fun having LJ in a band.  Back in the good ole days, the band was playing at what was then Strictly Tabu.  (Boy, do I have stories about that place!) I was there admiring my hot looking guy with his bass strapped across his nether regions, gloriously decked out in wrap-around sunglasses and army boots.  At the end of the evening, I was in the ladies’ room when two young beauties walked in.  Imagine my surprise when one of them informed the other that she was taking home the bass player that night.  I just smiled sweetly and left the room.  It made me so proud.

I’m still proud.

In honor of birthdays, here’s a chocolate dessert that beats any birthday cake you EVER had.

Chocolate Bread Pudding

With Walnuts & Chocolate Chips

4 cups 1-inch cubes egg bread with crust

1 ¼ cups semi sweet or bitter sweet chocolate chips (divided)

½ cup walnuts, toasted and broken into pieces

1 cup heavy cream (divided)

1 cup half and half (divided)

5 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder

4 large eggs

1 large egg yolk

½ cup sugar

Lightly sweetened whipped cream for garnish.

Toss bread cubes, ½ cup chocolate chips, and toasted walnuts in a large bowl.

Whisk ½ cup cream, ½ cup half & half, and cocoa in a heavy medium saucepan to blend.  Add remaining ¾ cup chocolate chips; stir over low heat until melted and smooth.  Gradually whisk in remaining cream and half & half.  Whisk eggs, egg yolk and sugar in a medium bowl.  Whisk chocolate cream mixture into eggs.  Stir into bread mixture.  Let stand for 1 hour.

Preheat oven to 325°.  Butter 6 (1 to 1 ¼ cup) ramekins.  Divide pudding mixture among ramekins.  Bake puddings until set in centers, about 40 minutes.

Top warm puddings with whipped cream and serve.

6 servings.