First Date

Thirty-nine years ago tonight, Muffin and I had our first date. We met on the dorm lawn as I was moving in for my sophomore year at dear old Texas Tech. He was with two friends, one with whom I was supposed to have had a blind date. The blind date fell through, but he came to meet me just before he left town to return to Navy duty, bringing two of his childhood friends along. Enter Muffin, one of said friends. Half an hour after they left, Muffin called to ask me out. “Which one are you?” is what I was thinking. But I accepted and we agreed to go to a university dance the following weekend. The big band playing for the dance was, this is very painful to remember, Strawberry Alarm Clock. You must Google that one to believe it. Anyway, he remembers every little detail of the night and I confess that I do not. I was in my do-not-try-to get-near-to-me-I-have-been-greatly-wounded-by-a-guy mode for about, oh, three years.

We had a lovely time, and I do remember feeling safe with him and that the dance was really, really loud in the coliseum, so we mostly talked outside while walking around. We agreed to go out again, but he broke that date. So, before you form an opinion of that, I’ll say that he was sick. Sick and contagious. Contagious with the chicken pox. Yep. At age 19 he caught them from his then three year old sister, missed a week of the semester that cost him a grade point in one class, and broke our second date. I confess that I laughed quite a lot when I got off the phone, then got a blind date with someone who was a friend of someone, who lived on my hall, who I don’t remember—neither name nor face.

But, Muffin never forgets this date. September 7, 1969. He swears he was McSmitten. I just want to keep him that way for, oh, about another 50 years.

Happy Birthay, Muffin Dearest

Yesterday was my Muffin's birthday, the number of which shall not be mentioned out of respect for the elderly. He is now as old as I am, however. And we had a fun weekend with the Rowdy Girls, their parents, and the Fabulous Aunt Kaki, our youngest daughter. Work was done on Nannie's house. Food was cooked. Lots of food. Oven fried chicken coated in hatch chile chips and covered in Absolutely Picante sauce. Black beans and Himalayan red rice with Mexican cheese, cilantro, garlic and onion. Oatmeal chocolate chip brownies. Deaux hashbrown quiche. Grilled hamburgers with grilled hatch chiles. Macaroni and cheese with ham. Mac and cheese alone. Fresh green beans. Fresh cantaloupe. Fresh raspberries. Barbecue brisket, smoky flavor. Mashed potatoes. Nannie bread (whole wheat and bran bread of the softest order). And, drum roll please......Two layer chocolate velvet cake filled and covered in chocolate ganache.
The above mentioned cake was the birthday boy's request. He says it is better left over and chilled.

He spent much of the weekend twin wrangling while I cooked, did laundry, and played for a wedding. That's one of the things I love most about him--the way he plays with children. Our girls loved playing with him when they were little and their children are big Grandpa fans as well. He erected a tent and tunnel inside the house because the mosquitoes were pretty bad outside and this is what happened.




One day he went outside with the RG's and wrote words on the sidewalk in chalk. Roo enjoyed shouting out the words and Em enjoyed writing her own words in her own language.

Chalk: $1.00 a bucket. Photos: priceless.