I might have gotten the Cool Card …

… but I know who HR’s True Valentine is …


I might have gotten the Cool Card …

… but I know who HR’s True Valentine is …


Living in Coastal Georgia, I LOVE fresh seafood.
HR does too, as long as it’s shrimp, lobster, crab, crayfish or fish. He turns his nose up at oysters, clams and mussels. Poor thing.
So the other day, we were at Fresh Market stocking up on a few weekly deals. We were chatting with our favorite butcher lady, Lise, who just happened to be standing behind the counter hovering dangerously close (I thought) over several bags of fresh mussels.
I absolutely LOVE steamed mussels in garlic and white wine sauce. So I grabbed a bag (before Lise fell on them).
She gave me the suggestion to use leeks instead of shallots “for a better flavor profile.” Ooookaayy.
The next day, I pulled out my Julia Child apron and went at it.
Did you know that first you have to wash the mussels in cold water and … all purpose flour?
“Why?” you ask.
Well, to put a little beard on them, of course! “Beard” is actually the term used in my favorite recipe. The beard somehow attaches to any dirt or grime that still may be on them.

The next step is to use your finger to wipe away all those little beards. Which is harder to do than it sounds. And which borders on disgusting.
So I de-beard very quickly and get on with the more fun parts.
Next you throw together your base consisting of white wine, chicken stock, heavy cream, lemon juice, shallots, garlic, red pepper flakes, lemon zest and juice, parsley, salt and pepper. Whew.
Add the mussels and steam the big mess for about five minutes.


Please note that HR threw in a few large shrimp for good measure. (A bit unfairly, I thought.)

Here’s my bowl …

And here’s HR’s …

And finally, the test …


He didn’t jump up and down in culinary ecstasy, but he didn’t throw the shell at me either. I considered it a win.

What a Deliciously Joyful Lunch!




So back in 1985 I started saving my yearly/monthly calendars.
I’m not sure why.
So that makes … what? Forty years in 2025.

I suppose it started out as just a way to remember birthdays, appointments, to do’s and other important (or unimportant) dates I was prone to forget. This was before the days of “Siri, remind me ….”
But it morphed into jottings of my hopes and dreams, my frustrations, my successes, my problems, my New Year’s Resolutions (difficult to look back over today), my very … non-Facebook life.
As I skim through the pages of years/years of pages, I see emerging themes: family, children, travel, career, wife, ex-wife, coming out, husband, grandchildren, parental deaths, medical issues, joy, sorrow … Life.
I’m not sure what to do with them. Leave them to my daughters? Burn them?

The National Enquirer? People Magazine? The highest bidder?
Here’s to my new calendar for 2025 and whatever it may bring.

May your 2025 calendar be filled with Good.
And that’s my Saturday Evening Post. 1/11/2025.



Merriest of Christmases to You!


(There are no words.)

Robert and I live in an old 1800’s apartment building in Historic District Savannah, so we don’t have much garden space. But we do what we can. (Correction: HR manages most of the “doing.”)
Here’s our little Japanese maple as she decided to “seasonally change” her outerwear recently.

Isn’t she gorgeous?!
I told her, EXCITEDLY, that she was simply LOVELY in her shimmering gold, thinking she would receive the compliment graciously.
And she did. Sort of. The she smiled, as wise sentient beings often do and said with patience (which wise sentient beings often have): “Neal” (I was thrilled she knew my name), “seasonal change, as you call it, is a part of life. We all go through it.”
“And sometimes it strips you bare.”

My smile drooped a bit. I wasn’t really keen on that part of our convo.
“It’s a part of life,” she said with no trepidation in her voice.
Maple got me to thinking, and I know I have probably used this poem far too often in my blog, but it SO resonates with me, especially as I’m getting … older and “seasonally changing.”
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
— Robert Frost
Here are a few of Robert’s photos of Maple and her “seasonal change.”



May we all “seasonally change” so gracefully.
Here’s another of my riveting, independent films, this one entitled HR & Babbling Brook Smile …

My weekly gratitude journal, of sorts.
1. Enjoying the cooler fall weather here in Savannah.


2. Speaking of cooler weather, HR driving us over to Tybee Island yesterday evening to see/experience the beautiful Hunter Moon rising “from” the Atlantic ocean.

Get ready. Here she comes!







3. After the Moon Spectacular, we headed to the very ocean-hip Sea Wolf Tybee bar and restaurant …

… for their gourmet hot dogs. I stayed seawater simple with their Classic dog …


While Robert (as usual) got all fancy with their Chicago dog.

For some reason, I ALWAYS have to look into the restrooms at quirky restaurants. Why? Their bathrooms often mirror the quirkiness of the rest of the place.
Sea Wolf certainly came through. When you close the bathroom door, there is a hot dog costume hanging there. (I wondered if anyone ever tried it on and sashayed back to their table.)

And look what we found out on the patio.

A hot dog wreath, of course.

And hats for witches.

Or warlocks.


OK, I really need to stop this Frankfurter Foolishness.
4. Robert’s monochromal kitty Benny. 

5. And grandson Daniel in final rehearsals as young Shakespeare in the upcoming play Shakespeare in Love.

Hope you have a hotdog of a weekend ahead!