Keep Austin weird!

A respite from real life!

Hilarity begins at take-off. Rollicking high spirits roll down the aisle of our Jet Blue flight to Austin. T-shirts in the airport shops sport the message Keep Austin Weird!"

We've arrived to do our part! Everyone around us gets a contact high. The car rental lady and the women trailing after us ask, “Can we go where you’re going?”

We feel warmly welcomed to the "Live Music Capital of the World" as a professional photographer offers to use my camera to snap our photo in front of guitar art.

We four, along with our hostess Trish who recently relocated to Austin, are my BFFs and charter members of our Emergency Book Club.

Individual crises over the years bonded us into a core support group and we have laughed, cried and partied together for what seems like a lifetime.

Three solid days of spring rain can't dampen our high spirits. Nor does the horror that one of us was burglarized and had all her jewelry stolen yesterday. Even now, one of us faces surgery and another has tough stuff going on in business. But, isn’t that just the way life is--a combination of sweet and sour?

Rumi’s poem The Guesthouse (the poem I'm learning by heart this week translated by Coleman Barks), says it all:

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival. . .

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight. . .

We are . . .Oh, so ready for those delights!

I get to be designated driver in our rental car as we graze our way through our list of fine and funky Texas hangouts. The first night we are elegant and tasteful at a Mexico City-style restaurant, the Fonda San Miguel.

But, by the next day some of Austin’s wackiness begins to rub off during our visit to the wildly eclectic South Congress district. We order a huge selection of dishes. The most decadent and memorable is Carrot Cake French Toast (with a gooey cinnamon cream cheese sauce) at the South Congress Café.

People-watching through the window makes it so easy to understand how hometown girl Sandra Bullock might choose someone as edgy and colorful as Jesse James. He would look downright normal in this neighborhood of tattoos, big bikes and vintage clothing stores. Across the street we spot a array of Airstream trailers that sell cupcakes and all kinds of really fascinating snacks. We sample several while tapping our toes to live country music.

Our stash of foodie finds in our trunk, we slide an audio tour of Austin into our CD player and are guided past stately mansions, the capital building and intriguing nightclubs. Passing the Driskill, the historic hotel where LBJ dined on his first date with Lady Bird, we pause for refreshments. Copper ceilings, leather couches and cow heads on the wall.

As dusk approaches, Trish mentions the famous Austin bats that in Springtime fly out by the thousands from under the Central Bridge at sundown. The bats have more sense than the trio you see in this photo heading out without umbrellas for a good view. Turns out the bats stayed in, and fifteen minutes later our adventurers hurry back, drenched, while best pal Mary and I snap photos from our cozy front seat.

What’s for dinner on our last night? Having explored all day we decide to make the original Whole Foods (the flagship store) our last stop and load carts full of little tastes for a picnic dinner around the kitchen table.

Champagne, breads and cheeses, salads, more cupcakes and conversation until Trish begs for rest and heads to bed. An hour later she and Deb wake us all with shrieks of laughter. We rush to hear what happened and join the fun. They tell us how Trish, turning her back to Deb, proceeded to cover her face with a bright green mask. She then mentioned conversationally, “I’ve been drinking an interesting new green vitamin shake lately. . .”

As she turned to face Deb, they exploded with laughter and thus our party begins all over again. It takes forever for us to settle down and fall asleep again.

Today , heading for the airport we have time for one last stop—Walton’s Fancy and Staple one of several Austin restaurants in which Sandra Bullock’s sister, a passionate baker, is a partner. This is our last visit for now with our divine hostess Trish, at right with her matching umbrella.

We are relaxed, recharged, and already making plans for a rerun.

RED VELVET CUPCAKES

These are so easy and so good because they have miniature chocolate chips inside. I adapted the recipe from Cupcakes from the Cake Mix Doctor by Anne Byrn.

24 paper liners for cupcake pans (2 1/2inch size)

1 package (18.25 oz) plain German chocolate cake mix (the kind with pudding in the mix)

1 cup reduced fat sour cream

½ cup water

½ cup vegetable oil

1 bottle (1 oz) red food color

3 large eggs

1 cup miniature semisweet chocolate chips

Frosting:

1 (16 ounce) container cream cheese frosting

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and place rack in the middle of the oven. Line 24 cupcake cups with paper liners.

In the large bowl of an electric mixer beat the cake mix, sour cream, water, oil, red coloring and eggs on low speed for 30 seconds. Scrape down the sides with a rubber spatula, then beat on medium speed for 2 minutes longer, scraping the sides again if needed.

Fold in the chocolate chips. Spoon about 1/3 cup batter into each lined cup making 22 to 24 cupcakes.

Bake until they spring back when lightly pressed with your finger, 18 to 20 minutes. Remove the pans from the oven and cool on wire racks for 5 minutes. Remove the cupcakes from the tins and let them finish cooling for at least 15minutes before spreading with frosting.

These freeze perfectly, and are wonderful to have on hand.

“Names are ships to carry dreamers . . .”

Do you ever yearn for a taste of paradise?

Ted and I have a saying when the pressures of business get too intense for too long: It’s either Hawaii or the hospital! So, we are here for three nights to gain some perspective on our lives. To change our channel. To do a little dreaming . . .

We are enjoying breakfast on the patio of Orchids Restaurant next to the beach at the Hotel Halekulani or “House Befitting Heaven.”

Our steaming hot popovers remind me of my first trip to Honolulu with my parents many years ago. The original restaurant was just a hint of what it is today. My Mom was so taken with the steamy, custardy goodness of popovers she dove into cookbooks immediately on our return to duplicate them for us at home. They were never quite the same absent the tropical beauty, the fragrance of plumeria, the sound of waves lapping on soft sand.

And, how auspicious that the whole month of May—Mother’s Day or Memorial Day—is the ideal time to be here. May means dryer weather, and lower airfare and more affordable rooms because it’s off-season.

Don Blanding, Poet Laureate of Hawaii, says it all in Names Are Ships excerpted from his book Vagabond House:

Names! The lure in names of places

Stirring thoughts of foreign faces,

Ports and palaces and steamers,

Names are ships to carry dreamers.

Pago-pago, Suva, Java,

Languor, lotuses and lava,

Everything a dreamer wishes,

Buried treasure, flying fishes,

Coconuts and kings and corals,

Pirates, pearls and pagan morals,

Rum and reefs and Christian teaching,

Gin, and jungle parrots screeching. . .

Dreams and names are here on our verandah with an expansive ocean view.

Right after breakfast we’ll be off on an early morning walk along the Waikiki shoreline to the healing stones where we have a personal ritual of visualizing what we want to bring into our lives as we circle the sacred relics three times.

Then back here for a swim in the Halekulani pool.

We will be refreshed and recharged and home too soon! Before we leave, I’ll stock up on the hotel’s own brand of Heavenly Tea, the blend called Jasmine Earl Grey, for a little taste of paradise, and I’ll serve it with . . .

PERFECT POPOVERS

(5 to 8 popovers)

Melted butter for brushing the popover pan

1 cup sifted all-purpose flour

½ teaspoon salt

2 large eggs

1 cup milk

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

Generously brush iron popover pans, muffin tins or Pyrex custard cups with melted butter. If using custard cups, arrange them on a cookie sheet for easier handling.

Combine all the other ingredients in the container of an electric blender and blend at high speed for 10 to 15 seconds. Turn off the motor to scrape down the sides with a rubber spatula. Blend at high speed for 10 to 15 seconds longer, until the batter is completely smooth.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Fill the cups half full of batter and place in the preheated oven. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes if using an iron popover pan or muffin tins, or for 40 minutes if using custard cups. They should be well browned and crisp when done. To be sure they are firm and will stay puffed, remove the popovers from the oven and, while they are still in the pan, pierce the side of each one with a sharp knife. This will allow the steam to escape. Return them to the turned-off oven for 2 to 3 minutes to dry the insides.

To prepare in advance: The batter may be mixed and stored in the refrigerator for a day or two, but be sure to reblend it for 10 to 15 seconds just before using. Leftover popovers can be reheated on a baking sheet, not touching at 350 degrees for 5 minutes.

I'm baaaaaack . . .!

Over, but never forgotten!

And, what a success! The CHOC Follies this year raised over $800,000 for the Childrens Hospital of Orange County. What's more -- it was just a blast.

I got to be the story-teller--almost more fun than I could stand. Here I am with daughter Kathy and my precious granddaughters Aidan, the redhead, and Caitlin, holding the storybook I read from.

My email inbox is still choc full (no apology for the pun) of emails from all the cast members celebrating the wonderful experience we shared.

There were 16 musical numbers--some singing and dancing, some just singing. The music still plays continually in my head.

Here are some of the many stars: (from left)

*Tin Larry (Jim McAleer, President/CEO of the Alzheimer's Association) who wanted to be a fancy race car

*Dorky (Samantha Goldstein) who, with her dog Uh-Oh, was swept away to Orange County on the winds of El Nino,

*Simba (played by former Rockette, Juliet Fischer-Schulein) who wanted to be the star at the Hip Kittie Club, and

*Scarecrow (Thad Schatz) who spoke in rap and did a lot of fancy tapping.

The amount of talent and enthusiasm packed onto that stage was awesome to behold. And one of the best things was that I got to dress up in purple sequins and sing and dance to the song "In His Kiss" (the shoop-shoop song).

The bad witch LaLa (Eve Michaels, a veteran performer and a Beverly Hills makeover coach) wanted to annex all of Orange County and make us all "one big LA" wore a wig almost bigger than she is.

We had a cast of 85, and all their family and friends flocked to see the show, so more than 3500 people were in our audiences over the four-performance run.

The video will arrive soon, and I can't wait to relive the whole thing.

I am counting on it to remind me of the glory to be found in the act of throwing myself into a completely new experience.

A NEW TAKE ON MELTED CHEESE

Not much time to cook with all the rehearsals for the show, so I kept the care and feeding of husband Ted simple with dishes like melted cheese sandwiches, experimenting with new ingredients. This one features a delicious black truffle cheese given to me for my birthday recently by chef Cathy Pavlos at my favorite Lucca Cafe restaurant and market, and sage leaves fried in olive oil (and the sage flower used as a garnish). The cheese from Sardinia, Cathy's new favorite, is called Moliterno with Truffles, or La Rusticella al Tartufo.

"Call Gloria!"

Have you ever done something far outside your comfort zone? Something just to prove to yourself you are juicy and alive and way more courageous than you think?

Well, I am out here on the skinny branches right now. I am “starring” (along with a number of other “stars”) in a theater production It is the 13^th annual Choc Follies. Choc meaning Childrens Hospital of Orange County. This year’s musical is “The Wizard of OC.” as the narrator and a participant in 8 musical numbers (yes, that means singing and dancing while freaking out!). Check out the fan page on FaceBook.

This adventure began about six months ago when Ted and I were watching Dancing with the Stars. I declared, “My only regret in life is that I haven't done a lot more dancing! I think I’ve missed a whole lot of fun!”

Not long after that a friend told me she had just had an amazing experience with a psychic medium. I was so intrigued and curious that I made an appointment. Yes, it was amazing, and I won’t go into all of it here, but the really interesting result was that my late husband Paul kept repeating, and insisting that this woman tell me “Call Gloria!”

“I don’t even know anyone named Gloria!” I told her. Later, I asked myself over and over Who is Gloria and why should I call her?

A few days later while sitting at my computer my eyes fell on a little post-it note with my handwriting of a phone number and the name Gloria Zigner. Oh, I realized, that’s the woman I met a while ago who is the society editor for Orange Coast Magazine. Now, why would Paul be urging me to call her? Gloria and I had spoken briefly and casually mentioned having lunch together so she had left a message on my phone. I'd put the note on my computer as a reminder, yet had forgotten to make the call.

When Gloria answered, she said, “Let’s meet for lunch. I want to talk you into being in the Choc Follies!” I learned Gloria had founded the Follies, a yearly musical production which has raised nearly $5 million for our world renowned Children’s Hospital. Gloria's beautiful face and bright red hair is a clue she has a past in Show Biz. She invented this spectacular event out of her passion for musicals.

“If you can walk, you can dance!” she declared. Her contagious enthusiasm and promise of fun did indeed convince me to jump in.

So, because of this very magical, mystical story, here I am, dancing and singing my little heart out. My devoted pal Deb has joined me, and the talents of the director, the dance director and the choreographer wow us. The script is hilarious and I get to deliver some great lines. Deb has bought tap shoes and hired a tap tutor to get her up to speed.

Opening night is only two weeks away now. Yikes! I am bouncing around my office to our practice CD training my feet to remember the steps and moves to Ease on Down the Road, the du-wap melody of It’s In His Kiss (the shoop-shoop song), and dance steps I actually remember from the 60s (the Pony, the Mashed Potato, the Watusi), the gorgeous Barbara Streisand hit Ordinary Miracles. (Dare you not to cry when you hear our exuberant harmonies in that last one.)

One of our most rousing songs is A Brand New Day! What a great reminder that every day offers an opportunity to reinvent ourselves and tell a completely new story, to try something wild, and silly, and at times, terrifying.

Say a little prayer for me, please. And, if you are going to be in Orange County, between April 1 and 3, please show up. Showing up is everything! You know I’m going to, and I bet Paul will be watching.

Sorry, no recipes this week. I’m waaaaaaaay to busy to cook!

Welcome morning!

What sparks you? What lifts your spirits and makes your mood soar?

For me, it is a certain kind of poetry I call ecstatic poetry.

Poets (mystical poets especially) love to light us up! As proof, I found an email message in my inbox this morning from Daniel Ladinsky, translator of the Hafiz poem That Sweet Moon Language in my previous blog, saying

"Thank you for sharing my work with others."

How Daniel found my blog so quickly I have no idea! I am deeply honored to share his exquisite translations.

This morning, lines of Anne Sexton's celebratory poem, Welcome Morning, run through my memory before I even open my eyes:

There is joy

in all:

in the hair I brush each morning, . . .

in the chapel of eggs I cook

each morning

in the outcry from the kettle

that heats my coffee

each morning . . .

Through Anne’s reverent eyes I meet my morning routine as ritual.

All this is God,

right here in my pea-green house

each morning . . .

and I mean

though often forget,

to give thanks,

to faint down by the kitchen table

in a prayer of rejoicing

as the holy birds at the kitchen window

peck into their marriage of seeds.

How can we hear such contagious joy without pouring meaning into our daily routines, stirring up poetry of our own?

So while I think of it,

let me paint a thank-you on my palm

for this God, this laughter of the morning,

lest it go unspoken.

With her warning in mind, my personal poetry would sound something like this . . .

There is beauty all over my bed

this morning.

In the bristle of Ted’s brow on my lips

this morning

In gentle rain on the roof

this morning

In soft cat kisses on my cheek as Maya kneads a memory

of her mother into my pillow

this morning,

In the bubbling of my [Coach's] oatmeal

this morning

in the hummingbirds around their feeder

seeking an early Spring

this morning.

Heaven on earth in my beloved hillside home

this morning

In having one more day to love my life.

I forget to be anywhere but now

offering heartful praise

for bountiful waves of bliss

this morning.

In reciting our own appreciation, our lives, and our morning breakfast cups, overflow with gratitude. We transform the ordinary into the extraordinary.

Anne Sexton’s poem ends:

The joy that isn't shared I've heard,

dies young.

So--I’d love to know—how does your morning sound?

P.S. May I share another delicious discovery? It is the new brand of Coach's Oatmeal, available in large bags at Costco. It truly tastes like the Scottish brand you need to simmer forever, but takes only five minutes.