Welp, here we are…the last Thursday of 2022, and I’m sitting at my computer, hopped up on DayQuil, a semi-domesticated Corgi named Clifford snoozing contentedly under my feet, and absolutely nothing meaningful to say. Well, I have nothing meaningful to say; I can’t speak for Clifford. This seems to perfectly sum up my year, except for the dog. But let’s work with what we’ve got, shall we?
Say, do you recall this post from a few years ago where I foolishly disclosed my plans to grow my own pecan pie from scratch, thanks to the efforts of a neighborhood squirrel? The tree that we carefully shepherded into the arborist equivalent of advanced childhood never even made it into puberty; the squirrels giveth and the squirrels taketh away.
We’re hoping for a different outcome for a different tree. Debbie harvested a few seeds from a local Texas mountain laurel, scarified and planted them, and lo and behold, one has sprouted and is growing like a…well…weed.
If you read about propagating TMLs from seeds, it sounds like there’s nothing to it, but we haven’t had a lot of luck in the past. Perhaps 2023 will be the year that we’re able to plant a homegrown tree that will eventually fill the air with the sweet aroma of grape soda.
Christmas at Casa Fire Ant was a quiet affair…just the two of us, plus Clifford and Sophie, pictured above. At this time of life, Debbie and I pretty much pick out our own gifts and then feign surprise when we open them, although nowadays I can be surprised by something I wrapped myself, IYKWIM. I hit up James Avery for a couple of things she had picked out, and she gave me a custom creased cowboy hat from the Serratelli Hat Company.
It’s been decades since I’ve worn a so-called cowboy hat, but I’ve had a hankering for one ever since we move to the Hill Country and started frequenting dance halls. I had also never heard of Serratelli (and was a bit skeptical of the western styling capabilities of a company based in New Jersey) but as it turns out, they’ve been at it for almost 150 years. I was further reassured when my Army cavalry officer nephew informed me that while lower-grade officers wore Stetsons, higher ranking officers were often partial to Serratellis.
I have yet to try it out on the dance floor, but the most important person in my life likes the way it looks, so I’m pretty happy, too.
Art comes in many forms, including ripped paper and black ink.
I may have one last 2022 post in me, but I doubt that it will be very educational, and you know how I love to be educational. In fact, I’ll close this post with a lesson on how to be a better conversationalist at your NYE soiree. No need to thank me; this is just how I roll.