We had several churches outside our hotel room and while their bells were lovely, it proved a bit confusing since I have set the church bell chime as my ringtone on my iphone. I found myself jumping a lot to answer non-existent calls. But what a view to wake up to on our first morning…

First things first, my cousin Ashton and I (representing the overwrought, multi-tasking, 40-something mommy demographic in the group) kicked off the vacation with massages…

Later that afternoon Little Chick and I had an incredibly enjoyable walkabout…

The highlight was visiting the newly renovated St. Francis Cathedral Basilica. Breathtakingly beautiful inside and out…

Later that evening we feasted on a home cooked Italian meal at my Aunt Cita’s house. Despite the fact our family is not one iota Italian, we tend to gravitate toward Italian fare. My mom can cook some seriously good Italian food and we turned the whole night into a big celebration. Here I am with my cousin Ashton (awkward cropping is credited to someone from the 4th generation who was serving as photographer.) We are standing in front of another cousin’s painting, Dick Mason, who was a magnificently talented artist in Santa Fe.

The next day we ventured slightly out of town to one of my favorite haunts for lunch, The Tesuque Village Market. On our way back to Santa Fe we strolled through the Shidoni sculpture garden and bronze foundry.

That afternoon I did a little gift shopping at a delightfully ornate candyshop called Todos Santos.

I also made a point to stop in on one of the best spots in Santa Fe, the Georgia O’Keefe Museum. My aunt had tipped me off that an interesting exhibit had just opened the day before, “Georgia O’Keefe and The Faraway: NATURE AND IMAGE.”

It was well worth the visit. O’Keefe landscapes are iconic but this tiny exhibit really brought to life how much she truly loved being outdoors – not just to see a beautiful image for the purposes of painting it, but to be outdoors. The sheer power and joy of it. I realize now Georgia was quite the outdoorswoman.

The exhibit coordinated O’Keefe’s southwestern landscapes of Ghost Ranch and Glen Canyon with photographs of her camping in those very places. Mixed in were letters she had written about “sleeping under the stars” and her time in nature, which she called going to The Faraway.

I was particularly intrigued with the camping gear and clothing they had on display. The had her blue jeans, tennis shoes, denim shirt and a navy polka dotted scarf. Turn the corner and there are pictures of her camping in that very scarf. They also had her tent, sleeping bag and a variety of gear. It was pretty wild to see, I have to say.

Since for me it all comes back to rivers, I was most entertained by details and images of her on her multi-day rafting trips down the Colorado River to Glen Canyon, Utah. There is so much about this photograph that I love. The navy polka dotted scarf that I had just seen in the previous room, the look on her face, and most of all, the fact that Georgia O’Keefe was using those most talented hands to dig in and get the raft moving on some relatively flat water. Georgia on the sticks….too cool.

It was a fantastic trip and a very happy mothers day. Here we are, four generations, heading home through DFW…

Between Georgia O’Keefe and my mothers day weekend trip, it seems a fitting end to this post to share a wonderful quotation that a friend sent to me yesterday…

“Excellent women: May we be them, May we know them, May we raise them.”

I love anything that smacks of 60s style. For example I adore this picture that Stanley Marcus took (in his book ‘Reflections of a Man’) in Acapulco 1962.

 Another story for another day I will share why I worship Mr. Stanley (hint: he was one of my bosses in my second job!) but for now just know I am thoroughly inspired to have a 60s style Mexico trip. So imagine my instantaneous envy last week when I saw this tweet by beloved resort wear designer Trina Turk:

A dashiki…FABULOUS, I SHOULD SAY! Finally someone was validating my secret dashiki love. Hers was to die for, here’s her picture:

Understandably I had to have one. Stat.

So within 90 seconds I had scoured ebay and bid on a dashiki of my own. Because I am a somewhat competitive ebayer, I hit refresh 20-40 thousand times until I confirmed my victory. With exactly zero other bids and a mere $9.99 I won a new-with-tags authentic African Dashiki, made in India. Shipping from Lawrenceville, GA.

With a dashiki on the way, I decided to do a little recon on the history of the dashiki. According to Wikipedia, “The dashiki is a colorful men’s garment widely worn in West Africa that covers the top half of the body.”

Of course most of us recognize the dashiki as an iconic garment from the civil rights movement of the 1960s.

Oh, but I think Trina Turk and I are onto something here with the au courant dashiki fashion statement. In this concert review, we see badass Austin musician Black Joe Lewis rocked the dashiki just last month. (Is it just me or does his look a lot like the one Trina nabbed?)

Since I am sure you are on the edge of your seat, yes, my dashiki arrived in the mailbox yesterday. My first impression was the odd smell as I ripped open the envelope, but I quickly forgot the odor when this surprise goodie fell out.

Oh my. A Gift With Purchase. How apropos, since Stanly Marcus was the one who originally invented the Gift-With-Purchase and he is the nascence of my 60s inspired Mexico moment. But honestly I would have preferred a lipstick case or travel makeup bag instead of this teeny little man cap.

Which I’ve since learned is called a KUFI and is a very traditional African accessory with a dashiki. Apparently it is worn by “wise elders”. Yes, that suits. I think we will exude the essence of “wise elders” on this girls trip in Mexico. No, no tequila shot in a test tube for me, my friend. Don’t you see I wear the kufi?

We have had lots of laughs in this house over my attempted treasure-hunting fashion moment. I offered it as a coverup to Little Chick for her pool party last night but she laughed in my face as she bluntly declined. The Professor was later seen trying on the dashiki and kufi but the blurry pictures of him running through the house like Sasquatch are under lockdown a la J. Edgar Hoover style.

Meanwhile Lord only knows what sort of direct marketing list I am on since the ebay seller now has my name and mailing address. Rest assured if the Black Panthers make a comeback I will most likely be invited to the Lawrenceville Georgia regional kickoff picnic.

The jury is still out on the success of my own turnkey dashiki. But strange odor aside, I will be rocking it poolside in Mexico in just over a week. I’m not afraid.

That said, a bit of insurance never hurt anyone. So today I picked up this Trina Turk maxidress cover-up just in case my cheeky dashiki is a little too freaky.

In honor of the red-headed stranger’s birthday, I am hosting a PADDLEFISH book promotion. The rules are simple. Buy a copy of PADDLEFISH right here anytime through this Friday 5/4 and your name will be entered into a drawing for this 2-disc CD set of Willie Nelson music.

With 40 songs it earns the title “The Essential Willie Nelson.”

To sweeten the deal, buy two copies of Paddlefish and your name is entered twice. Three copies bought, you will be entered three times.

Good luck and Happy Birthday Willie! This is a song for you…

I wish I were wearing my lucky green Cloudveil fishing shirt and chasing bonefish in the Bahamas, but sadly this picture is from a few years back. Today finds me sitting in my house green with envy as my husband and my dad are in the Bahamas without me. Alas, I am but a Saltwater Cinderella.

I will spare you the details of how The Professor is on my annual family Exuma bonefishing trip without me, just know that in spite of the deep-seeded sadness that I harbor at not being there, I am happy that they are on a beautiful flat somewhere sightcasting to bones as we speak. Or perhaps by now they eating conch and downing Kailks.

Sigh. (Text pics he sent last night with a fishing report)

Apparently the fishing has been tough, fish are hard to find and spookier than ever but they’ve each caught a few each day.  Looks pretty damn fun to me.

But jealousy is such a terribly unattractive trait, so instead of being a green eyed monster I’ve decided to refocus on the positives of going green here on the homefront.

Bonefishing is fun and all but I have stocked up on greens and am headed to the kitchen to make a green protein smoothie and baked zucchini chips. I mean c’mon, the joint is jumpin’ here in ATX.

And speaking of kitchens. Over in Mobile the construction continues on the new kitchen project. Not that you can see them here since they are covered with protective paper, but the floors I picked are “green”. Not the color green, but environmentally green. They are bamboo, which I picked for the dark color and affordable, below-my-budget-price but I’m told they are a top pick for green builders.

As the kitchen passes the halfway mark, we have officially entered the decorative phase which, in my mind, gives me an actual reason (and a sense of superiority) to live on Pinterest 24 hours a day. Bonefishing, Pinterest, Bonefishing, Pinterest. It’s a toss up. Regardless, I seem called to repin all things green lately.

Thanks to Happy Habitat and Design Crisis for feeding my all these delicious greens. But all this does is make me want to do some more redecorating, which of course takes more green. So I have been hard at work trying to line the coffers by scheduling more book signings and selling copies of these.

Someone has to pay the light bill while all the men in this family are off to battle the bones.

As much fun as I am clearly having here at home, my mind keeps wandering to Exuma. I wonder if they have fresh conch salad at Big D’s? Is there a band at the Peace & Plenty bar? What’s the weather doing? Are the bonefish schooled up or scattered? What color flies are they taking? Could it be…

It ain’t easy being green.

As many of you know, I raced in the 2010 Texas Water Safari to help find a cure for Rett Syndrome, inspired by Ella Farnum (daughter of Bill Farnum, a very good friend to flyfishing and the F3T) as well as Rancey Luce (daughter of my dear Mobile AL friend Anna Luce.)

Well…last summer one of my best college friends, Meredith, read an advance copy of my book Paddlefish and also became inspired by Rett Syndrome. Especially since she realized she had a new neighbor, Nancy Grantham, whose daughter also has Rett.

Then we come to find out that Nancy Grantham in Winston and my friend Anna Luce in Mobile are age-old friends! They have been fighting together for a cure for Rett for two decades. When I was in Winston last week, Nancy pulled out these sweet pictures of their daughters Anna Stewart and Rancey from 1997:

This is all very wild since Rett is such a rare disease. Frankly, the odds of all these Rett connections are mind boggling. But I firmly believe there are no coincidences. Everything happens for a reason, and I witnessed firsthand from these girls that inspiration is contagious.

My friend Meredith was so overcome with the small-worldness of all of this that she decided to host a luncheon in Winston to help find a cure for Rett. She recruited Nancy Grantham as well as friends Anna Ball and Jen and next thing you know, this force of nature became a reality. After months of planning these women threw a fantabulous luncheon in Winston last week for 95 women — plus Nancy’s husband, Pat. And they graciously asked me to come speak and read from Paddlefish.

How good looking are these tables? The centerpieces pre-sold in two hours days before the luncheon. All for Rett.

I had such a ball. I cannot begin to break it all down, but sufficeth to say, it was a fun, hilarious, inspirational, dynamic trip to my old stomping grounds in Carolina.

The women I met were so welcoming and gobbled up every last copy of my book that I had on-hand.

And as if being there wasn’t gift enough, the beautiful brain trust who choreographed this magical afternoon blessed me with this hand painted paddle by a local artist named Sam “the dot man” McMillan who even has art displayed in the Smithsonian.

I will treasure this paddle as much as the one I raced with in the Safari!

In addition to spending time with the wonderful women who planned the luncheon, I met some of Meredith’s fabulous friends who celebrated with us well into the wee hours. Much love to my new friends Jill and Rosie (and so many others!)

And of course, I had the opportunity to spend precious time with some of my best friends in the whole world, my college roommates from Carolina. I know it’s hard to believe from the shiny proper veneer you see here, but the three of us used to be hell on wheels when we roomed together in Chapel Hill, which they should have renamed Strawberry Hill in our honor after freshman year. (If you get it, you get it, if not…)

But that was 23 some odd years ago and now we are all grown-up prim and proper mom sorts. Just well behaved ladies who lunch, that’s us.

Ahem.

That is until the post-luncheon wine-soaked after-party rolled on well into the late hours of the evening and devolved into a rousing rendition of “I Will Survive”.

Video evidence reveals that we were pitchy, rusty on the moves, and we mumbled most of the lyrics, but in our minds, in that very moment…we put the GLORY in GLORIA GAYNOR.

Besides, my book and my speeches are all about “perseverance” so I WILL SURVIVE seems an appropriate late night battle cry – for some aging sorority girls blowing off steam from the grind of daily life and most certainly for the families with Rett who are fighting the good fight each and every day.

Catch this humiliating video while you can because as soon as my friends see it they will likely force me take it down. To go ahead and answer your questions: yes there is a mystery hairbrush being passed around as a mic, yes people are trying to leave but we are shamelessly blocking the exit, and yes we are out of breath because we’ve already been singing a good bit of ABBA before this impromptu performance.

THANK YOU: NANCY & PAT, ANNA BALL, JEN, MEREDITH & BUDDY, AMELIA, CAROLINE, BETSY and everyone in Winston who celebrated with us last week. Until next time, much love…XXOO

(Now since many of you are reading this without the painful “I WILL SURVIVE” video that I have no doubt already been asked to remove, you can enjoy this little nugget instead…)

This year the film tour had me especially nostalgic given the recent passing of Leslie, Austin’s most beloved cross-dressing homeless celebrity. The first year we brought the film tour to Austin, I was in charge (self-appointed) of getting Leslie to do a promo video for the flyfishing film tour. The process of shooting this few seconds of footage was one of the more hilarious endeavors I’ve ever got myself into.

And then, in year two with the film tour I managed to get The Lizardman to pose for a promo shot. Another long story.

I haven’t worked on the film tour the past two years, it was nice last night just to attend as a regular ole movie go-er. We could have used an extra hour on the frontend just to catch up with everyone. It felt like it was time to party, karamu, fiesta, forever. But we had to cut that short because after all, we were there to see some fishing movies.

And I have to say, I think the films are the best ever this year. We loved the stories, the people, the photography, and most of all, the fishing. The films seemed trout-heavy this year which is fine with me since I have zero saltwater trips on the books and looking forward to summer in Montana consumes most of my waking thoughts.

And speaking of Montana. Last night wasn’t just about seeing Austin fishing friends in the flesh, but Montana friends on the big screen. I know I am partial to anything that involves the Missouri River and the town of Craig, but a highlight of last night was seeing my friend Simon Perkins’ movie ‘Sipping Dry.” Not only was it filmed on the Mo, it featured a whole cast of characters who are our friends in Craig! We loved it!

It was surreal to see them all right there on the screen in the Paramount Theater in Austin TX. Validation that they don’t just exist in my mind in the summertime. Like Pinocchio they’re real boys!

Hats off to Simon for a great job on ‘Sipping Dry’ as well as star performances from Brandon, John Arnold, Mark Raisler, Mitch, Beau, Jared and Chris. Get your sharpees ready guys, won’t be long til I am back in Craig and I am looking for autographs from each and every one of you. Even you, Brownie. Yes, that’s right Mr Holloywood Hookjaw.

this screenshot from 'Sipping Dry' lifted with love from headhuntersflyshop.com

Another fun connection from last night? Bill Farnum from Oregon. Some of you may recall it was Bill Farnum who first told me about Rett Syndrome, a neurological disorder that his daughter Ella lives with. It was that first conversation with Bill three years ago that sparked my interest in Rett which, coupled with a few other Rett coincidences, resulted in my racing in the 2010 Water Safari for Rett.

Bill flew in from Oregon just for the Austin show and threw the after party as a Rett fundraiser. It was so great to see him and brainstorm more ways to keep the energy and awareness going about finding a cure for Rett. I won’t speak out of turn but I will hint that Bill and I brainstormed something pretty damn cool as a new Rett fundraiser…stay tuned as logistics play out. It will happen.

Many thanks to all who hosted the film tour last night. Howler Brothers, Red-Headed Yeti, Trey and Scott…yall knocked it out of the park. The films were topnotch and the fellowship as fun as ever.

Including this awkward and hilarious photo op brought to you by the Austin Fly Fishing Film Festival. I can’t really repeat what was going on here.

But sufficeth to say, it was funny.

The German immigration to Texas began in 1830 and the settlers tended to cluster together in German communities, maintaining the traditions and customs from their mutter-land.

Yesterday the Professor and I road tripped out to Fredericksburg and Luckenbach on a GORGEOUS spring day. Roadside bluebonnets and Indian Paintbrush were in full force and signs for vineyards and peach orchards added to the poetic backdrop of the 90+ minute drive.

We started in Fredericksburg where the highlight for us was lunch at one of the oldest restaurants in town, Der Lindenbaum.

Now we did consider driving another 13 miles to the Alamo Springs Cafe which according to Texas Monthly (2009) has the 3rd best burger in Texas. They even featured it on the cover:

Tempting, for sure. But we were in more of a German frame of mind and Der Lindenbaum’s historical stone building lured us in.

Such a great call. The room was cozy and the staff was pleasant, speaking with just enough of a thick European accent to make it all feel legit. Thank heavens the Professor has two years of college German under his belt because I am more of a romance language kind of girl. I think he was having fun interpreting for me.

We absolutely loved our meal. He ordered some sort of sausage schnitzel with sauerkraut and warm german salad. I was torn. I’m always down for weinerschnitzel with a fresh squeeze of lemon, but opted instead for the spicy beef gulasch – because let’s be honest, I just couldn’t pass up saying the word gulasch. Gulasch. How often do you work that in your daily vernacular?

After pairing this delicious comfort fare with a little red wein, I felt as if I should be wandering out to my sleigh parked in the icy German Alps — as opposed to the balmy central Texas sunshine. But when we stepped outside the restaurant we were greeted by this guy playing the akkordeon on the streets of Fredericksburg.

After lunch we cruised just about ten miles down the road to Luckenbach…yes, as in Willie and Waylon and the boys. And yes, it’s as magical a music spot as you could ever hope for.

We stumbled on a great afternoon show with the band blacktopGYSPY. Their sort of ransom note, lowercase/uppercase type treatment aside, this band was good. Killer lead vocals, killer fiddle, killer harmonies. What more could you ask for from a Texas band entertaining you for free under the live oaks at Luckenbach? When we wandered up they were playing this…

Then they broke into a little June Carter Cash cover…

They had the crowd enraptured for hours. They played multiple sets and people were eating it up straight through their last song. Later in the evening they were slated to open for Billy Joe Shaver who was performing in the legendary dancehall.

We couldn’t stay for the night show, but we did wander over and pay homage.

And enjoyed all the sage bumper stickers in the bar…

It was a fine Hill Country day, a real fine day. Cause as they say, “Everybody is somebody in Luckenbach.”

So that’s all for now. Hope everyone is having a Happy Easter, Happy Passover, Happy Masters…whatever makes you happy. Auf Wiedersehen Yall.

The only two things in life that make it worth livin’
Is guitars tuned good ‘n’ firm-feelin’ women
I don’t need my name in the marquee lights
I got my songs and I got you with me tonight
Maybe it’s time we got back to the basics of love

Has anyone else noticed the current culinary love affair with the Brussel Sprout? I always thought of it as the out-of-town runt cousin of the already annoying cabbage. But the Brussel Sprout is officially having its moment in the spotlight. Perhaps the greatest ugly-duckling-turned-swan vegetable story of all time.

The only love I had for the brussel sprout as a kid was on the Muppet Show. Remember the Swedish Chef? I distinctly remember watching an episode in our den in London (I was probably 4th grade?) and my dad and I laughed so hard it hurt as the Swedish Chef used a revolver to shoot a head of lettuce which made it rain brussel sprouts.

Apparently the sketch is timeless. I about peed in my pants to see it again:

That circa 1980 bit was the last time I even gave a brussel sprout the time of day.

Until last year.

Suddenly the little buggers are everywhere! They are popping up on every menu in town, out of town. Fine dining, casual spots. People are pinning brussel sprout recipes on Pinterest. What in the world, who flipped this switch?

Last November my friend Melissa from the Gluten Free for Good blog did a post about roasted brussel sprouts for breakfast and I have to say, it was the first moment ever that a brussel sprout actually looked appealing to me.

I didn’t make the recipe — but I actually kinda thought about it. They’re obviously good for you. I believe the claims that these little cabbage nibblets are highly nutritious. Apparently they have anticancer superpowers, which is always a plus. It’s just hard to overcome my childhood gag reflex at the mere thought of them. Although Melissa’s did look pretty good…

Well, I finally toedipped into the brussel sprout lovefest this past Valentines. We dined at the Little House Bistro in Mobile (delish) and they were an option on the holiday menu. I have to say, not bad. It wasn’t love at first bite or anything. I mean, I didn’t like like them, but I did like them as a friend. Maybe even a little secret crush?

Well, the secret crush has evolved into a full fledged torrid love affair. I have found the brussel sprout of my heart people. At The Snack Bar, right here in our neighborhood in Austin, they flash fry brussel sprouts and serve them with a housemade aioli sauce.

Do I hear harps playing?

Because we have about 7-10 more days of enjoyable spring weather before Hades-like temps arrive with a vengeance and start choking the life force out of us, the Professor was adamant we walk down South Congress to dinner last night. The breeze was lovely, and even at dusk the moon was already big and juicy. He was right, it was a beautiful night to go al fresca.

We wove through the throngs of First Thursday visitors (or as I like to call them tourists) with a lackadaisical ease. Okay, that’s a lie. In a frustrated effort to get around some tourists bottlenecking at Guero’s Beer Garden, I misstepped, tripped, blew out my flip flop, almost busted on my face, and wound up with a bloody toe.

But I immediately forgot my swollen toe pain and bloody suffering when I saw the new sign at The Austin Motel/The Snack Bar. (Some credit also goes to the wine.)

Now if you’re at all familiar with one of the most popular, beloved and photographed bits of graffiti which is on the wall of Jo’s Coffee…

…then you too will smile at the new sign next door at The Austin Motel/Snack Bar:

I love you so much. I love you more. I love you so much. I love you more. Seated between these two signs, the Professor and I found ourselves in a loop repeating these phrases to each other throughout dinner.

Awwww.

I do love the Snack Bar. Cool scene, slow service (which is okay because we wanted to lounge) yummy wine and good food. We shared a spread of baba ghanoush, hummus, manchego mac n cheese, Mediterranean flatbread pizza, and my new all time favorite brussel sprouts.

These brussel sprouts are salty and crispy and sumptuous. I can’t stop thinking about them this morning and wondering if I can get over there and order some to go for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner.

Yes, thanks to the Snack Bar (and let’s be honest, the term “flash fry”) my love has sprouted for the sprout.

I believe the feeling is mutual.

True to the multi-entendre title of this post, our al fresca lunch upon arrival in Big D this past Saturday was both substantial and satisfying. You see, I grew up in Dallas until the age of 12, lived there again in my 20s, and absolutely relish any and every chance I get to pop back up and see my Dallas crowd. Especially a trip that kicks off at Jack’s Burger House.

The reason for the 24-hour roadtrip? Well, I am humbled to report that I was asked to participate in a fundraising event aptly penned “Tables of Content”, which is hosted by and helps to support the Friends of the SMU Libraries.

So The Professor, Little Chick and I ventured up I-35 on Saturday morning, and rolled into Dallas just in time for a late lunch at the venerable Jack’s Burger House — which for the record just celebrated its 60th year flippin’ burgers and serving up its one-of-a-kind seasoned fries.

After lunch we visited friends and I gave the Professor and Little Chick a little driving tour. I showed them my elementary school, the pool where we went swimming, where family friends live, and the house where I grew up — incidentally the place where I wrote my first book which for the record was self-published and self-bound. With staples.

All of a sudden it was time to check in to our hotel, gussie up, and head over to the SMU campus.

The Professor was very impressed with how beautiful SMU is. I have to admit, I have spent a fair amount of time traipsing around SMU through the years and it is awfully impressive. It was both lovely and special to be back.

The evening began with a cocktail reception on the back porch of a building in the business school. I was honored to be one of the authors selected as 2012’s Top Ten Haute Young Authors.

We had some laughs with the other writers about the name of the category. Clearly I’m not young, so I suppose I slid through on the “haute” vote? Then there was some discrepancy on whether we were pronouncing it “haute” as in high french couture, “hot” as in redhot new writer, or “hawt” as in Texas sassy.

I opted not to question it further, choosing to accept all combinations of fashionable, in demand, and really really good looking.

Patrons of the event were trustees, community activists and all-around book lovers – my kinda crowd. They were engaged and dynamic and we were swamped at my table talking about the Texas Water Safari and signing copies of PADDLEFISH. Thank heavens the Professor was with me, we were quite a circus act! It was a really, really fun scene.

First Lady Laura Bush was in attendance but we didn’t see her until everyone moved inside for the seated dinner. Sadly she escaped with her secret service and no copy of PADDLEFISH. Che sera.

We were at a table with two other Haute Young authors, Becky Wade and PJ Hoover. It was cool to be with two other female writers, both of them moms with kids about the age of mine, and it was an invaluable gift to have that time to swap stories with each other. Our husbands chimed in with their points of view, it was a lively group. Also at the table were Amy Carver and Cindy Ruppi who worked on the event and made everything run seamlessly.

(PS ladies, the meal was delish!)

That said, the real highlight of the evening for me personally was to see them present the 2012 Literati award to one of the dearest people in my whole life….my surrogate father…Marshall Terry. (Lest you think I adopted this man against his will, he introduced me multiple times as his fake daughter. So yes, he does know me.)

It was serendipity that I was a participant the same night he received this incredible honor. Marshall has been a family friend and personal mentor, in my life since I was a mere eight years old. His daughter is my very nearest and dearest sister-friend from childhood, she is even Little Chick’s godmother. I could barely hold back the tears listening to Marsh’s life achievements, and I was very very proud to be there when he accepted.

Not only a published author time and time again, Marsh was an English professor at SMU for about half a century and taught generations of talented Texas writers. He created the Creative Writing Department, served as Associate Provost, co-authored the university’s strategic plan, lead study programs in Spain, Taos and Oxford, and taught the infamous “Myth of the American West” course.

He is known simply as “Mr SMU.”

Luckily the fact that his daughter Mary and I traveled along as young girls to the SMU in Oxford summer program didn’t cost him his job. We weren’t that much of a nuisance. Although we did hang out in the beer cellar pub on campus for hours on end playing pinball and chumming up with all the college kids.

It was a special night all the way around. MANY THANKS to the Friends of the SMU Library, including Toni Terry and Amy Carver who both brought me into the mix, and special congrats to my dear friend, Mr SMU.

We capped off the evening meeting up with one of my best Carolina Dallas girlfriends and her husband, enjoying big laughs and margaritas at Mi Cocina.

Have I mentioned I love visiting my friends in Dallas?

And of course, it wouldn’t be a proper drive home without insane traffic on I-35 and a stop in West at the Little Czech Bakery for a kolache to go.

Delicious is our business.

I wish that were my tagline.