Grandpa Sam's Pants

My maternal grandfather was, I'm told, quite dashing in his youth. Tall, blond, with smokey gray eyes. It was said he dressed well, too.

I was scanning old photos and came across two from my grandparents' 66th wedding anniversary party in 1982.

For the event, which my mother hosted, I flew down from Boston and sculpted chopped liver into the number "66." At the time, I thought it was hideous and somewhat obscene. After seeing the photo, I haven't changed my opinion. (Click the images for full servings.)

The other photo from that day is of my grandparents. My grandfather died just after their next anniversary, at the age of 93 (more or less). And my grandmother followed exactly a year later.

I have no idea who did my grandfather's shopping, but his anniversary outfit looks like something out of ... well, out of the pages of this blog.

He did, however, make the peak lapel look so swell...

The Original Sweater Girl

If you've been with me since August, you might remember the huge collection of knitwear, all made by My Mother The Dowager Duchess. In addition to the sweaters pictured in a post from August 25 (click here), I set aside photos of some special ones to share with you when I had the time. Well, I have the time.

Of the items pictured below, I only remember the first, which my mother made some time in the early 1960s. The others were all new to my eyes, so, while sorting through her photos, I was really pleased to find a shot from 1984 of the Duchess wearing the last one.

(Click the images to inspect the workwomanship.)

WITH INDIVIDUAL CRYSTAL BEADS. THIS WAS PAIRED WITH A FLOOR-LENGTH
TAPERED BLACK SKIRT (ALSO MADE BY THE DUCHESS). CLASSY.

1984. THE DIFFICULT YEARS SHOW IN HER EYES.
(BUT NO DOUBT THAT WAS CLUB SODA IN THE CUP.)

Cazuelas and Abuelas

Today ends Fuengirola's annual restaurant event called "La Cazuela de la Abuela," which means "Grandma's Casserole." Sixty-three restaurants participated offering their own special tapa-size casserole. All I needed to do was sample five and I could then vote for the best, and get entered in a great prize drawing. Except for sampling Meson Salvador's entry, we missed the rest of the competition. But it doesn't really matter because, in my humble opinion, Meson Salvador is always the best at everything anyway.

LEFT TO RIGHT: MY MATERNAL, HIS MATERNAL, HIS PATERNAL, AND MY PATERNAL GRANDMOTHER.

On the subject of abuelas and casseroles, my paternal grandmother died when I was very young. All I remember was her coaxing me out from behind my mother's back by giving me candies from a cut glass bowl — raspberry hard candies with liquid centers. I, therefore, loved her.

My maternal grandmother was an amazing cook, but I don't remember a single casserole.

San Geraldo's paternal grandmother was born and raised in South Dakota, so I'm sure she made plenty of casseroles in her time. However, in South Dakota, casseroles were called "Hot Dish." At a potluck supper, people were told to bring "Hot Dish" — not "a" hot dish, but "Hot Dish." As Jerry's Norwegian maternal grandmother would say, "More funny America."

(Click the pics to make your mouth water...)

ABUELA (GRANDMA) OUT FRONT PROMOTING THE EVENT.

LA CAZUELA DE LA ABUELA. DELICIOUS!
(POTATOES, A VARIETY OF FRESH MUSHROOMS, AND CRUNCHY HAM).

TRADITIONAL SPANISH POTATO TORTILLA.

BREAD THAT WAS SIMPLY TOO GOOD.

REBANADA ESPECIAL.
(BREAD SLICE TOPPED WITH OLIVE OIL, IBERIAN HAM,  AND QUAIL EGGS.)

Beyond the exceptional food and atmosphere, what makes Meson Salvador the best in the world is the staff. They call us "family" and they mean it. After a recent meal, Adrián brought us our complementary chupitos (shots of liquor). They serve "Pionono," similar to Bailey's Irish Cream only a whole lot better.

Since San Geraldo rarely drinks alcohol, Adrián brought him something non-alcoholic, a blackberry (mora) beverage. It's what they serve to children. San Geraldo made a face when he tasted it, so Adrián got a straw and helped him drink it.

SAN GERALDO AND ADRIÁN.

I ASKED SAN GERALDO TO MOVE HIS HAND OUT OF THE WAY FOR MY PHOTO.
THIS IS HOW TYNAN AND ELENA HELPED.
THAT'S WHEN I TAUGHT ADRIÁN THE MEANING OF THE ENGLISH TERM "SMART ASS."

A Dowager Duchess Don't

In 1987 when we were living in Southern Connecticut, San Geraldo had a business trip to San Francisco. I was going with him. It was three months after my father's death and My Mother The Dowager Duchess was about to turn 60. So we invited her along.

My mother and I sat next to each other on the plane. San Geraldo was one row back. As boarding continued, a very attractive woman came through the door and walked down the aisle toward us. She had red hair and was dressed in teal blue from head to toe.

As the woman approached, The Duchess commented in a stage whisper, "How beautiful."

We hadn't noticed that behind her was a little boy. He also had red hair and was dressed entirely in teal blue.

The Duchess stage-whispered, "Cute."

A moment later, an extremely large man came lumbering down the aisle. He had red hair and also wore teal blue, top to bottom. A matched set.

The Duchess harrumphed, "Well that's just a bit too much!"

CLICK THE IMAGE AND DECIDE WHAT WORKS FOR YOU.
AND DON'T WORRY WHAT THE DUCHESS MIGHT HAVE  SAID.
SHE HAD A TEAL BLUE "JOGGING SUIT." SHE DIDN'T JOG.

Because I'm tacky...

Deliciousness ... and Crap

Chef San Geraldo hasn't cooked dinner at home in months, not since before we headed to New York in August. The mood just hasn't been right. But, Tuesday morning he decided it was time to change all that. (Click the images to make things really delicious.)

THE DELICIOUS DUDO AND MOOSE BEING FLASHED DURING THE NIGHT.

DUDO'S NATURAL EYE-LINER.

He roasted a chicken, sauteed gorgeous mushrooms, steamed some fresh vegetables, and even made a cranberry apple chutney from cranberries picked up at Ana Crespillo's market. Unlike the huge bags of seasonal cranberries we used to buy in the States, cranberries here come in tiny little containers and cost a small fortune. A major treat.

My stomach started to feel a little funny (and not ha-ha funny) early in the afternoon. Maybe it was the excitement of the dinner to come. By Tuesday night when the beautiful meal was prepared I had already spent my time either on the pot or in bed and there was no way I was going to be eating anything. San Geraldo had to go it alone. I drank water.

CRANBERRY APPLE CHUTNEY... WHAT'S LEFT.

I spent almost the entire day in bed Wednesday. I did have a small piece of left-over chicken in the afternoon. That night? Toast.

Today has been a better day. I've had breakfast and lunch. San Geraldo made grilled ham and cheese sandwiches on brown bread. We topped them off with the cranberry relish. Delicious.

And, so far so good.

For someone who is the picture of fitness and health (according to me), I sure have had a crappy (and not just figuratively) couple of months! Before my "heavy cold" in January that lasted two weeks and turned out in fact to be the flu, I spent a week with terrible digestion woes (explosive) as a result of an adverse reaction to a medication. But that's all behind me now! (Ahem...)

Anyway, back to the subject of delicious: A couple of things I enjoyed before the creeping crud hit.

TARTA DE MANZANA AT RESTAURANTE PRIMAVERA.
(APPLE PIE/TART.)

TARTA DE QUESO AT MESON SALVADOR.
(CHEESECAKE.)

Cranberry Apple Chutney Recipe

SAN GERALDO USED MORE THAN 8 OUNCES OF FRESH CRANBERRIES INSTEAD OF CRAISINS.

Cranky Jacqueline

One of the things I love about blogging is the opportunity to connect with special people from all around the world. I had to leave the United States in 2011 to become good friends with someone in Indiana, Jaqueline of "Cranky Bar." Jacqueline later moved to Florida but she remained just as fascinating.

We very quickly formed a special bond and, at her suggestion, we began to Skype every so often, shared email regularly, and even spent nearly two hours on the phone while I waited for a plane at Kennedy Airport after spending the summer of 2015 in New York as a result of one of my mother's medical emergencies. I enjoyed every minute I spent talking with Jacqueline; and I HATE talking on the telephone, so that says a lot.

Jacqueline passed away February 6 at the young age of 55. She had been living with Parkinson's Disease and a number of other related problems. She had a stroke in September (after sending me love on the death of my mother).

Jacqueline often insisted she was a cranky type and easy to take a disliking to. But I think she was making that up. I found her irreverent, but never cranky, and unbelievably easy to love. She was a powerful woman who survived adversity with a smile, a joke, and with empathy and kindness.

She was a gifted writer. Her short stories, often inspired by random photos she would collect, were works of brilliance. Inspiring, magical, moving, and sometimes fantastical. If you have the time scan through the Cranky Bar blog for some examples.

She adored her family and spoke lovingly of her daughter, Jenn (aka, Jennie; aka The Kidling) and her mother, also Jennie (or maybe I should have said her daughter "also Jennie").

She and I could and did talk about everything under the sun. She was enlightened, intelligent, generous, quick-witted, and self-deprecating. She made me smile and she made me laugh and she made me feel loved.

Jaqueline's mother, Jennie, posted info about a celebration of Jacqueline's life. It made me smile, too.

The celebration will be held at the Oy Vey Bakery-Deli at 2170 13th St. Terre Haute, IN, February 26, from 3:00 to 6:00.

The Kidling summed up her mother, and herself I think, on Facebook by suggesting how we might honor Jacqueline's memory.

If you'd like a way to honor Jacquelineand Mitchell, here are a few ideas.

One Good Thing:
Every day, write down one good thing. It doesn't have to be something big, just something that makes you smile. 

Learn the Signs Of A Stroke:
FAST [Facial drooping, Arm weakness, Speech difficulties; Time to call emergency services.] 

Advocate for Children:
Be the person that a child in a bad situation needs; listen and believe them. If there was one thing mom couldn't stand, it was leaving a child — any child — without help.

And, from me, something Jacqueline once shared...

Good Things

While walking in sunshine the other day (before the storm, the rain, the clouds, and the rough seas), I was listening to music on my 15-year-old iPod. "Good Thing" by the Fine Young Cannibals came on. A great workout song.

I heard "Good thing, where have you gone?" and an image of my sister Dale flashed in my head.

I started crying.

I kept on walking at my vigourous, happy pace. I kept on crying.

It's been 36 years (March 7) since she died. My good thing, you've been gone too long.

Dale would have adored San Geraldo and these other two good things in my life.

SIBLINGS...

Making Waves

Well, it's not raining today. And it only rained a bit yesterday. But before the rain let up, there was serious damage along the coast. We've so far been spared the worst, except for wind damage around town. The surf is still surging. High tide hit the street in some spots. Here are some shots from today's walk. (Click the pics to make waves.) 

WELCOME TO THE PORT OF FUENGIROLA.

FROM ONE MOMENT...

... TO THE NEXT.

THE FALLS.

I'D PARK SOMEWHERE ELSE.
(I ALSO WOULDN'T BE SWIMMING!)

I OFTEN SIT ON THE LOW ROUND ROCK AT RIGHT...

A SECOND LATER...
DON'T WORRY. I WAS OUT OF THE WAY IN TIME.

LOTS OF AVAILABLE SEATING. MAYBE BECAUSE IT'S MONDAY?

I THINK THE IRRIGATION SYSTEM WORKED TOO WELL.

Thunder's Just A Lot Of Noise

When I was 15, I began working at a summer camp called Kiwi Day Camp. It was run by the New York Association for Brain-Injured Children. (Yes, they actually named a camp for children with disabilities for a bird that can't fly.) The camp director loved to play "records" on rainy days when we were all confined to the auditorium. He had a favorite record and I found most of the songs annoying, especially the one about thunder and lightning. So, of course, every time there's a storm, that song loops in my head.

We are in the midst of a huge storm that started during the night and, since misery loves company, I thought I'd share the song with you.

Listen while you look at the pictures (which you can click to make bigger).

THUNDER... LIGHTNING... AT 4 A.M.

"When the thunder comes with a boom boom boom,
we get out our drums and we 'roon-toon-toon'"?

THUNDER... LIGHTNING... THUNDER... LIGHTNING...
... AT 4:30. I WAS TOO EXCITED TO SLEEP.

AND AGAIN... SO GRATEFUL FOR OUR GLASS CURTAIN!

THE CAFE, MY FRIEND, IS BLOWING IN THE WIND.
NO LONGER ANY NEED TO USE THE DOOR.

THE WAITRESS' STEAMING WET SHOES.
FORTUNATELY, THEY DIDN'T START SMOKING, WHICH IS PROHIBITED.

And The Rest

All that's left from our three days in London are these random shots (click to enlarge) and stories.

NORTHERN SPAIN/SOUTHERN FRANCE. THE PYRENEES.

WALKING AROUND SOHO AND CHINATOWN.

SAN GERALDO (TELLING A FISH TALE?)

LUNCH AT BALAN'S SOHO SOCIETY.

OUTSIDE OUR SPLENDID HOTEL,
MONTCALM LONDON MARBLE ARCH.

ALARMING...

MARBLE ARCH. ONLY THE ROYAL FAMILY, THE KING'S TROOP,
AND ROYAL HORSE ARTILLERY CAN PASS THROUGH THE ARCH. NOT FAIR!

CROCHETED CORNER WINDOW AT SELFRIDGE'S.
THE DOWAGER DUCHESS WOULD HAVE LOVED THIS.

SAN GERALDO: "THEY HAVE BEER SOUP???"
ME: "NO... IT MEANS... OH, NEVER MIND."