Houston Re-visited

No matter what others may say, Houston has become a mighty romantic place to hang out, if you like art and ethnic food.
Check in and stay for a long romantic weekend at the Hotel ZaZa, smack dab in the center of the Museum District and only a few blocks from all things medical in Houston. Newly renovated, I recommend shopping online for one of the ZaZa’s spacious suites overlooking their sparkling Mediterranean-inspired swimming pool. Check for deals on any ZaSpa packages.
Besides the obvious, like Houston’s Museum of Fine Arts directly across the street from the ZaZa, this international city also has an often-overlooked sampling of art created and collected with a spiritual perspective.
For instance, there’s the Byzantine Fresco Chapel, which was created to rescue a set of stolen and ransomed frescoes. By 1992, the city of Houston and the Menil Foundation had teamed up to become the stewards of the frescoes, which forever belong to the Church of Cyprus. The church is reclaiming them, so they will be going home soon.
Don’t miss the Rothko Chapel, an internationally known draw, with its focus on human rights. If you are traveling with traditionalists, prepare them for the minimalist flavor of the chapel, so they can experience quiet with a meditative heart.
“It has become a pilgrimage for thousands of visitors who are drawn by its importance both as an artistic masterpiece and as a gathering place for people of all religious beliefs,” according to Rothko literature.
I recommend a visit to the Annunciation Greek Orthodox Cathedral, only a few blocks from Hotel ZaZa and the Rothko Chapel. If you are there on a Sunday, visitors are welcome to join worship. On other days of the week, priests are gracious and hospitable about informing respectful visitors about the significance of icons in Greek Orthodox tradition.
If you are a bibliophile, stop by the book store while you are at the church for a thorough selection of all things related to icons and icon painting, along with great choices in Greek heritage and the history of Greek immigration to America.
As long as Greek is on the art tour, why not take in cultural cuisine, too?
Choosing one or two items off the extensive menu at Byzantio Café and Bar is impossible. So, meet friends and order a huge spread to try it all.
Every bite is delicious, from the lamb souvlaki to the hummus to the gyros, and especially the tzatziki sauce.
With neighbors and regulars laughing and greeting each other across the restaurant, Byzantio feels like a great big Greek American family reunion.
And since you are having an art holiday, don’t miss the photography on the walls. Personal and expressive, we especially enjoyed the depictions of the local belly dancers who perform at the restaurant every Thursday night.
Belly dancing; a perfect excuse to start a romantic weekend in Houston early.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Ribbon Solutions

I have a simple solution to life’s stress.

Buy more ribbon.

I don’t know when my ribbon fetish began. Probably during childhood adventures with my grandmother, scouring second-hand stores and discount fabric stores for other people’s cast offs of useful items like zippers, buttons, and thread. The pay-off for restless granddaughters was a yard of any ribbon we chose, a real luxury in those days and an inspired bribe on Meme’s part, since choosing only one yard from so many colorful, temptations was certainly excruciatingly time consuming for young intellects.

I was reminded of our human tendency to prepare for life in odd ways recently when I uncovered the stash of ribbon I had collected in the months preceding my daughter’s wedding almost two years ago.

Like a squirrel hoards nuts, I had gathered spools of silky satin and shiny iridescent ribbon and hidden them away in an unmarked box just in case.

How having ribbon would prepare anyone for the transition of having your children grow up and begin families of their own is a quagmire of human illogic and dysfunction that only a professional psychologist could unravel.

All I know is, “You never know when the perfect ribbon will come in handy.”

Which reminds me of another motto, “Whoever has the most fabric when they die, wins.”

I have known women who built shelf-lined closets specifically to organize their addiction to fabric, justifying it with the words, “But I love to quilt.” And perhaps because they wanted to avoid trips to marriage counseling, their husbands seemed well-adjusted to this concept.

Or maybe those same husbands have a closet devoted to golf.

Like so many mid-lifers, I’m trading stuff for space these days; getting rid of the stuff and gaining room in my closets.

So, what to do with all this ribbon?

Well, the obvious thing, of course. Pass it along, with the fetish, to my oldest daughter, the artist.

And what she doesn’t want can be used to wrap up Christmas at our house this year.

I just hope my family and friends don’t become suspicious when the ribbon on their Christmas packages looks more wedding-ish than holiday-ish.

And I hope your holidays are wrapped and decorated with sweet family memories.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Orphaned Front Door

It was love at first sight. A relationship of convenience.
I wanted a new front door and I could afford the aged pine Louisiana beauty with no glass that came with two cypress sidelights included at no extra charge.
This particular door is a survivor. I could tell right away, leaning against the wall with all the other abandoned doors; it had a lot of inner beauty that could easily be overlooked. It looked forlorn. With moldy water-lines, I wondered if it had survived Katrina.
When we set the sidelights next to it, all three pieces looked happier; almost giddy. As giddy as doors can be when missing their window panes. Missing panes must be something like missing teeth for humans.
I took my orphan door family home and began the work of restoring them to their original glory. Or something like that.
In the process of reinventing my door, I learned some important life lessons.
- After trying to sand the fuzz off of cypress for a few hours, I re-visited my strict “no power tools” policy and invested in the cheapest electric sander at Noonday Hardware. Do other women hate power tools only because their husbands’ are way too heavy?
-By the time my builder saw my door family, I was too emotionally invested to re-consider because during all the hours of sanding I developed a respect for each line of the grain. Is this how all wood-workers feel?
-“I will not let my insecurities define who I am” is my motto, but I discovered that I get paralyzed when projects cost more than $100 dollars. Does everyone have a fear factor about messing up a project with a three digit price tag?
On the other hand, in this case, a little DIY doubled the value of the original investment.
-Having to custom fit the recycled door meant dollars went to local craftsmen. My builder kept his carpenters busy an extra half-day doing the custom trim.
-Adopting someone else’s cast-offs, meant I met a bunch of new folks, including Mona and Ferdinand at Antique Woods, 184 Pershing Hwy in Sunset, Louisiana where they had a fabulous selection at great prices.
Also, I met Chris, Toby, and Karen at Columbus Art Glass, 2625 University Blvd, in Tyler who spent more time talking colors with me than it took them to actually cut the glass when I finally decided. We narrowed it down to a mere eight different colors, all based on the symbolism in Russian Greek Orthodox iconography which is, okay, rather customer-specific, right?
Hopefully, the new front door with the colorful panes will serve to remind family and friends that our home is a sanctuary from the trials of a cold, cruel world where not only doors, but also humans, can sometimes feel orphaned.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.

Lots of Paint, Glue, and Icky-Sticky Stuff, Discovery Science Place

One of the things I like about Discovery Science Place in downtown Tyler is the folks there let me think I’m volunteering to teach.
With over 90 camps to choose from this summer there’s a little something for everyone. For more details, go to www.discoveryscienceplace.org.
The kid in me loves any opportunity to get gooey in the name of education, so, I volunteered to do a one-day science camp that spontaneously combusted art, science, history, and lots of paint, glue, and other icky-sticky stuff.
The truth is I learned more than I taught. Of course. Isn’t that the way it always is?
Preparing for the day-long seminar was already instructive as I tried to tie all the loose ends of my activities together with info from history and science.
Fifty years of learning and yet, I found gigantic gaps in my knowledge. How can this be!
Just exactly why does ketchup shine up copper pennies instantaneously?
I suppose this is trivia, really. Nothing earth-shaking.
On the other hand, in the name of adults everywhere, pride demands that I maintain some semblance of knowledge.
The reality of six uninterrupted hours with smart kids and their questions began to take shape in my mind. My confidence shrank in the face of my ignorance. I began to grasp for straws
What was I thinking? I muttered unintelligibly with a cloudy, bewildered look in my eyes.
To calm myself, I decided that this summer I would observe a real teacher simultaneously handle the science and the room full of smart kiddoes, rather than taking on the daunting task for a week myself.
So, just in case you have smart kids in your life and you, like me, feel the need to project the illusion of being well-educated, in order to maintain the adult-to-child balance of power, here’s your chance to send them off to science camp and let them come home excited and full of facts.
You won’t even have to admit that you are learning, too, as they tell you all about the experiments, projects, and fabulous teachers.
By the way, the penny/ketchup experiment we did scientifically proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that kiddoes love science in direct proportion to how messy it is.
Even though I googled penny, ketchup, copper and science experiments, I still don’t know why copper reacts to ketchup.
But not to worry, I’ll get another chance soon. DSP has a full docket with over 40 teachers brave enough to teach- or is it play- science, art, music, cooking, and culture this summer.
And of course, there will also be the folks like me, generally helping out while trying to be invisible when the smart kids ask questions.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.

Halleluiah Girl Gone Missing

This column isn't due out for a couple of weeks, but I ran into a couple of the TJC welding guys today having lunch at Bruno's. In honor of the great job they are doing, I'm posting this early. (Enjoy, fellas, and thanks for blessing our family with your good work.)


“I’m looking for a lost sculpture we call the Halleluiah Girl,” I explained over the phone.
“Oh, we call her the Rag Lady,” laughed the woman, a person of authority at TJC.
When my daughter was an art student at TJC, the teachers there created a welding class just for her so she could try her hand at sculpting. While the rest of the all-male class was learning to do precision welding, joining identical rows of metal over and over in precise patterns with no scarring in order to prepare for a future in aeronautics or medical technology, Anna was cutting Greek faces in relief out of metal discs and creating furniture out of old pipes.
The Halleluiah Girl began her life as a random circle, triangle and some spare parts, salvaged from a junk yard probably. With two metal stick arms raised in salute of the heavens, I imagine she was dancing in celebration of being released from a pile surrounded by chain link and guarded at night by ferocious German Shepherds.
I can imagine her excitement when she realized that she had been reincarnated on a college campus, surrounded by the stimulation and laughter that goes with young minds learning new things. Imagine her delight when she was assigned the task of jazzing up an empty space on the campus.
It was a task she did quietly, but enthusiastically for many years. Occasionally I would stop by to check on her, bringing my husband and his truck with the hope that he would see the value of moving her to our rose garden. For some reason, he believed she was happy where she was.
Alas, I may have waited too long. Maybe she felt abandoned. Unappreciated.
Maybe she felt exposed; naked and ashamed because the artist never got around to painting her.
Anyway, Halleluiah Girl wandered off the job.
“I’ll put out an Amber Alert for, what did you call her? The Halleluiah Girl?” promised the lady.
I called my daughter later to report the status on the lost sculpture.
“I have some good news for you. The folks at TJC have developed an emotional attachment to your sculpture. They’ve even given her a nick name.”
I am thinking of re-naming the sculpture: Homeless Girl.
I hate to think of her stuffed into a dark closet and jealous because the vacuum cleaners get to see the light of day once in awhile.
If we find her, I am going to give her a bright red coat of paint. Maybe a new task will help with her recovery, too.
She can wave at my neighbors in her bright red triangle dress as they drive by my rose garden. Maybe the neighbors will develop an emotional attachment to her, too.
Or maybe my husband will agree to donate her to a Homeless Shelter with an empty spot in their garden.
Maybe, when they see her dancing among the flowers with her arms outstretched to the sky, they’ll re-name her Halleluiah Girl once again because she is the perfect picture of second chances.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http:/checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.

The Gift of Silence

Sunlight poured through the windows of the third floor room in the monastery where twenty novice artists bent over icons, working carefully to apply the paint-like substance made by a master iconographer from red clay, water, and egg yolk. Filling the air were the ancient chants harmonized for centuries by monks in monasteries throughout Europe and the near East.
Silently, prayerfully meditating on God’s own nature, the artists carefully prepared the surface for gold leaf to enliven the halo, designating the central figure as a heavenly-inspired personage.
Purposefully, the artists endeavored to make all of the icons identical so that the message would be preserved accurately.
In fact, the artists left each finished icon unsigned simply because a signature might be a distraction from the symbolism intended to draw the viewers’ attention to, in this case, the mighty warrior-angel who expelled Satan from heaven, Archangel Michael.
The artists worked on hand-crafted wooden boards which were prepared with twenty coats of plaster, sanded smooth between each coat by the nuns of a similar sisterhood.
For hours on end, icon students learned the centuries-old technique as an instrument of devotion; as in the Middle Ages when monks devoted their lives to keeping the gospel message alive by spreading the message via icons and illuminated texts to civilizations that were most often illiterate.
Today, students can gather in a scattering of places around the US for instruction by masters who have been trained by one lone man who brought the process to the US and developed a school in New York after leaving the USSR when that government was committed to destroying all Russian icons. At that time, those who understood the ancient technique, because of their association with the Greek Orthodox Church, were often persecuted.
Now, once a year, the Jesuit Spirituality Center in Grand Coteau, Louisiana, hosts an iconography workshop. For one week, students gather from all over the US to be trained in the ancient art.
The Center is a peaceful place because the Jesuit priests who live there adhere to the principles of St. Ignatius’s spiritual exercises that are best experienced with quantities of silent contemplation.
Jesuit priests prayerfully provide quiet hospitality throughout the year to folks who come for silent retreats. Bells interrupt the silence at regular intervals, announcing meals and daily Mass.
It is impossible to describe my feelings as I began to inscribe the pure white board with the black lines of the icon’s pattern, symbolizing sin’s pattern on the beauty and purity of God’s creation. Amid the silence, each stroke of my brush reminded me again of how grateful I am to belong to Him.
Meditation is a lost art in our culture.
There is something purifying and healing about silence. Awe-inspiring.
This holiday, amid the clatter of the season and as the New Year begins, why not take a few hours to give your soul the gift of silence?
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.

Tyler is Bustling with Fun

Back in the 60’s and 70’s, the young people liked to complain that there was nothing to do in Tyler.
In those days, Tyler wasn’t exactly a one stoplight town, but let’s just say that the street lights went to blink mode after 10:00 p.m. That’s a fact. If you are old enough to remember when small children could safely ride bikes on Loop 323, then, like me, you are getting old, my friend. Even way back then Tyler had two golf courses.
These days, Tyler is bustling. There are so many things to do that it is nearly impossible to list them all. So I put together the eclectic list of things I like best about my old home town.
#1 $2 roses sold by street vendors. Why not buy 10 dozen?
#2 Dance lessons with Sal. Sal Landerus is not paying me for endorsing his lessons, but he really ought to get some benefit from trying to turn a duck into a swan on the dance floor. As I tripped through the lessons my husband gave me for Christmas, I discovered that even if a person never learns to dance just trying is invigorating.
#3 The Freeman’s collection of sculptures. At 1520 Rice Road, Chris Freeman, a dentist by trade, and his wife have created and installed a collection of about twelve pieces. If you have developed an appreciation for contemporary art, you will be thankful for what they have made available to anyone willing to walk to the back of his office.
#4 Water skiing on Lake Tyler. Find some friends with a boat and make them take you skiing because Lake Tyler, now that the drought is over, is once again the prime spot for jumping a wake.
#5 Take a class at TJC. My favorites are Spanish, welding, or anything in the Art Department. Why not come to town one or two nights a week and add a skill to your resume or chase a dream? Anyway, being in town for class gives you a perfect excuse to take in some of the other adventures on this list.
#6 Marvin United Methodist Church. Find your way into the sanctuary downtown and take a moment to savor the beauty of their stain glass windows, not to mention the carved, wooden panels and pews. It won’t cost you a thing, but time and a little reverence.
#7 Scuba. Men love this sport because once they complete the course, they are then required to purchase lots of expensive new gadgets. I suppose this is a good place to mention golf again, speaking of expensive hobbies.
#8 Farm-fresh produce. Aren’t we blessed to live in a place where there is always something fresh from the farms around East Texas? Right now, tomatoes are still on some vines and there are pumpkins to look forward to.
#9 Eat out. With so many restaurants to choose from it seems unfair to name any. Here are my favorites; all locally owned: Potpourri House, The Peking, El Charro, Pico De Gallo, The Tortilla Factory, The Noonday Store, and Bruno’s.
#10 The Obvious. I can’t imagine that there is any child in East Texas who has missed the following fabulous museums and sights, but just in case, be sure to visit Caldwell Zoo, Tyler Museum of Art, Brookshire’s Wildlife Museum and Country Store, Goodman Museum, The Rose Garden, and last, but not least, Discovery Science Place.
With its historic homes, cultural variety, beautiful parks, great restaurants and great shopping, Tyler is a perfect place to take a mini vacation before school starts. Or clip this list and stow it in your dash. Then, next time you have to go to Tyler for business or appointments, let it inspire you to make an adventure out of an ordinary trip to town.
Either way, I hope these ideas will encourage you to take another look at a beautiful East Texas destination.
Now, if my readers will send me their ideas about the courses they love, I will make amends for not knowing a thing about golf, by creating a “Readers’ Favorite East Texas Golf Courses List.”

Attention Motorcycle Mamas

Attention all Motorcycle Mamas. Now is the time to straddle a bike with your leather-lovin’ sweetheart and rumble on down the highway. Brmm, brmmm….
I couldn’t help but be jealous as my chunky SUV pulled up next to a revved up couple on their shiny black and chrome horse recently in Bastrop, Texas.
There’s a glorious little historic triangle between Bastrop, Goliad, and Victoria that just begs for the feel of the wind in your face. Every turn in the road brings new vistas of green Texas farmland complete with quaint farm houses, camera-worthy courthouses and libraries, and, for lovers of colonial art, Catholic missions and cathedrals.
On the way home, travel Hwy 237 between La Grange and Brenham, for scenery that is something like a mix between the 1800s and First Monday, centered around Round Top, but spreading out for miles along the highway.
If you take to the trail in Central Texas don’t miss these memory-making experiences:
-Bastrop’s main street, which is lined with historic store-fronts now showcasing boutiques, antique stores, and cafes, feels like Jesse James could show up any minute.
The Bastrop Visitor’s Center, in a bank building from the 1800s, has maps and local history lessons dating back to 1821 when Stephen F. Austin first formed his “Little Colony.” It will be no trouble finding a place to park your bike so you can wander the tree-shaded streets hoping to experience any ghosts from this town’s historic past.
-The Mission Espiritu Santo, with kid-friendly exhibits and folks weaving cloth from cotton and wool, was home to Franciscan friars who, after daring attempts to convert cannibalistic tribes, made their home in the beautiful sunlit mission near Goliad from 1749. It is the same spot where Santa Anna once led his troops up the steep limestone incline of the San Antonio River to attack the Texicans.
-Rumble through Victoria’s downtown, pausing to visit the courthouse and the Catholic Cathedral.
- Someone should give those folks in Round Top a medal! Just when we thought Texas was turning into one big metroplex, here’s a whole community of folks caringly preserving the wooden farmhouses of the 1800s along a single-lane, country highway cutting through green, grassy farmland.
Round Top hosts internationally respected musicians on a monthly or weekly basis, thanks to the James Dick Foundation for the Performing Arts, plus, there’s shopping.
They also claim to be one of the “Top 100 Arts Small Towns in America” and I, for one, can’t think of a better excuse to return for a weekend and verify personally that they are telling the truth.
With all that open air and open road, not to mention music, architecture, and culture is it any wonder that even SUV Mamas find their pulse racing? Brmmm…

Attention Motorcycle Mamas

Attention all Motorcycle Mamas. Now is the time to straddle a bike with your leather-lovin’ sweetheart and rumble on down the highway. Brmm, brmmm….
I couldn’t help but be jealous as my chunky SUV pulled up next to a revved up couple on their shiny black and chrome horse recently in Bastrop, Texas.
There’s a glorious little historic triangle between Bastrop, Goliad, and Victoria that just begs for the feel of the wind in your face. Every turn in the road brings new vistas of green Texas farmland complete with quaint farm houses, camera-worthy courthouses and libraries, and, for lovers of colonial art, Catholic missions and cathedrals.
On the way home, travel Hwy 237 between La Grange and Brenham, for scenery that is something like a mix between the 1800s and First Monday, centered around Round Top, but spreading out for miles along the highway.
If you take to the trail in Central Texas don’t miss these memory-making experiences:
-Bastrop’s main street, which is lined with historic store-fronts now showcasing boutiques, antique stores, and cafes, feels like Jesse James could show up any minute.
The Bastrop Visitor’s Center, in a bank building from the 1800s, has maps and local history lessons dating back to 1821 when Stephen F. Austin first formed his “Little Colony.” It will be no trouble finding a place to park your bike so you can wander the tree-shaded streets hoping to experience any ghosts from this town’s historic past.
-The Mission Espiritu Santo, with kid-friendly exhibits and folks weaving cloth from cotton and wool, was home to Franciscan friars who, after daring attempts to convert cannibalistic tribes, made their home in the beautiful sunlit mission near Goliad from 1749. It is the same spot where Santa Anna once led his troops up the steep limestone incline of the San Antonio River to attack the Texicans.
-Rumble through Victoria’s downtown, pausing to visit the courthouse and the Catholic Cathedral.
- Someone should give those folks in Round Top a medal! Just when we thought Texas was turning into one big metroplex, here’s a whole community of folks caringly preserving the wooden farmhouses of the 1800s along a single-lane, country highway cutting through green, grassy farmland.
Round Top hosts internationally respected musicians on a monthly or weekly basis, thanks to the James Dick Foundation for the Performing Arts, plus, there’s shopping.
They also claim to be one of the “Top 100 Arts Small Towns in America” and I, for one, can’t think of a better excuse to return for a weekend and verify personally that they are telling the truth.
With all that open air and open road, not to mention music, architecture, and culture is it any wonder that even SUV Mamas find their pulse racing? Brmmm…

What to Do First in Romantic Miami?

It turns out that Miami is one of my favorite places in the world. Who knew?
I guess I pictured the Miami that Hollywood invented, filled with drug-dealers and scantily dressed floozies.
Turns out Miami is the perfect place to travel with your family. Or, as we recently found out, it’s a great place for a romantic getaway.
Of course, who can argue with any place that features sunshine glistening off of turquoise water and sandy beaches, combined with fun stuff to do, delicious restaurants, and live music?
Here are just a few of our favorite things about Miami:
-The aquarium. Yes, and I am old enough to remember and be impressed by the original set of the TV series, “Flipper.”
-South Beach. The sandy, white beaches are fringed by water so clear you can see for yards and so gentle, that your smallest children can walk out that far without ever getting into trouble. Plus, there is public access through parks that have restrooms and outdoor showers; parks so picturesque that they frequently make the cut as sets in movies and TV shows.
-South Beach shopping. Still in your bathing suit, wander into any of the famous designer stores or, my favorite, choose from all the shoe stores whose windows boast shelves of fancy, colorful shoes and purses at discount prices.
-The Vizcaya. This historic mansion overlooking Biscayne Bay once belonged to the guy who owned American Harvester and sent his decorator all over Europe, furnishing his summer home in layers of history by way of antiques. It is also a self-sustaining, eco-friendly agricultural estate.
-Los Ranchos at Bayside. A Nicaraguan restaurant serving thin-cut steak served with three sauces, my favorite of which is a parsley and garlic sauce. Steaks come with fried green plantains which are crisp like potato chips, fried sweet plantains which are similar to sweet potatoes, and pinto gallo, a traditional way of preparing pinto beans and rice. Don’t miss the Yucca or the Nicaraguan tamales.
-The Café Versailles in Little Havana. A classic Cuban restaurant serving flaky, buttery pastries unique to Cuba that bring to mind Paris but are filled with tropical jellies like mango or guava. Here, elderly Cuban gentlemen dressed in nice slacks and dress shirts line up at the window outside for the Cuban coffee. Inside reasonably-priced Cuban specialties are served on white table clothes. Plan to order in Spanish because the waiters aren’t necessarily bilingual.
-Puerto Sagua on South Beach. Try the fish soup or the pushed Cuban sandwich. Similar to French bread, Cubans make their soft, crusty loaves fresh every day, then fill them so full of ham, turkey and a mild, melted cheese that the sandwich has to be pushed down to hold together.
-Catch an outdoor concert. Walk outside any day of the week in South Beach and you’ll stumble onto a live concert at any of the restaurants where tables spill over onto the sidewalks. Order dinner and enjoy the musical benefits of the local culture. If you are so inclined, you can even smoke one of the other benefits of Miami culture, hand-rolled Cuban-style cigars.
Outside of Texas, there are few places in the world that I want to visit twice. It turns out Miami is on my short list of places to return to again and again. Bienvenidos a Miami!

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at CaeKrafve2@aol.com or http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Quilt As Contemporary Art

I finished a quilt for my son this week.
Without a doubt, this quilt qualifies as the worst one I’ve ever made.
It’s the first time I ever made a quilt on the sewing machine and I discovered that my machine refuses to sew through more than five layers of fabric. Who knew? So, already, I have to go back and repair by hand all the places where seams are supposed to come together.
All of which just goes to show you that boys and girls are different because my son is perfectly thrilled with it.
It is the only quilt I’ve ever made from left over t-shirts. My son’s favorite old t-shirts were so worn out that I had to first patch the holes in shirts before I could use them, thus giving the term “patch work quilt” an ironic truth.
The good news is that when he throws it over his bunk at camp, I don’t have to worry about it getting holes in it.
“Oh good, I’ll get to use your machine!” he answered when I suggested he could create a pillowcase out of the leftover camo print fabric I used as binding.
What is it about boys that they are thrilled with anything that has a motor?
Nobody sent him the memo that sewing is for girls. I suspect that he views the foot petal as the accelerator.
It’s just a good thing I have extra machine needles in my sewing basket because he will drive that machine at full throttle for the whole stretch of every seam.
I used to be more of a quilt snob. In my mind, all true quilts had to be hand-stitched in the finest American frontier tradition, in front of the fire place in the winter, of course. Very picturesque. Never mind that the TV was entertaining me the whole time I worked.
That was, until I discovered store-bought quilts in the 80s when Chinese imports first hit American markets in full force. My friend fussed at me for supporting Chinese worker maltreatment. But I’m pretty sure that Chinese women and children wanted to make the quilts I bought. I could tell by the meticulous stitches, lovingly worked into their designs.
To me, the work of Chinese women diligently caring for their families seems like the perfect tribute to an American Art form developed on the prairie by resourceful women of another era.
Using old t-shirts, I tip my hat to our ancestors, creating a contemporary art form to wrap lovingly around a happy camper. Contemporary art tends to be a little strange anyway, right?

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.

A Miracle Every Time

Our daughter occupied our garage last summer with a very big painting. Parents will make any sacrifice for their kids, right? So my car spent six dirty weeks out under the oak trees around our house. I tried to be nice about it.
The painting is a whopping 8 feet by 28 feet. We never saw the whole painting at once because she couldn’t unroll it all in our garage at one time. She had to paint it in sections.
I’m one of those stage moms who can’t wait to tell you about their kids’ latest accomplishment. I know lots of dads who have the same problem.
Let’s just chalk it up to hormones; after all, I carried the child around in my womb for nine months and I really never got over the fact. I don’t know what excuse the dads have.
My friend gave birth last week and it was a miracle. A new baby, adopted or home-grown, is a miracle every single time.
Every mom knows that it is the lifetime of small daily miracles that add up.
I walked in on one such miracle last Monday night.
After years of painting, Anna got to have her first one-man exhibit. The gallery walls were filled with her paintings in every hue of the rainbow.
Even though our home is wall-papered with realistic paintings she has created over the years of recognizable humans and animals, this recent body of work, as they say in art circles, was contemporary and non-representational which is an academic way of saying it looks like any four-year-old could do it.
Of course, since we watched the process take place in our garage all summer, I know that it actually takes skill to pull together the correct complementary colors, establish depth and tone, then, delineate the whole canvas using illustrative techniques.
This is a good place to mention how thankful our family is to the teachers at TJC and UNT who have poured their efforts into getting her to this point.
The painting from our garage filled up a huge wall in the gallery. Gigantic.
And astonishing. I can’t even describe it.
Anyway, that was not the miracle; even though I do think it reflects well on the Creator that He can make people who can then turn around and create such amazing art.
Nor is it the miracle that someone I gave birth to turned out to be so talented, although that is kind of surprising when you think about it.
Or even that she has the discipline, dedication, and vision to focus so much creative energy.
Nope, those are the everyday miracles I’ve lived with so long as a mom that I’ve adjusted to the brilliance they cast over our little world.
At our house we say “Every human is Handcrafted.”
Anna purposely used the exhibit to intertwine her relationships together. She got so much joy out of bringing together the people she loves and introducing them to each other.
The Handcrafted quality of life was the miracle that jumped off the walls and communicated itself to me again as I stood there surrounded by her beautiful paintings and her even more precious friends, meeting many of them, both the paintings and the humans, for the first time.
For me the real miracle is learning from each of my children one at a time that each and every person is fearfully and wonderfully made by an Artist who is pleased with His work. That includes being pleased with the way He made me, and somehow I find myself surprised by that fact most of all.
That’s the small daily miracle of last Monday night. That and the fact that the collection of all his creatures together, like a beautiful exhibit of His Handiwork, gives us insight into His creativity and greatness.
Oh yeah, and by the way, if you know anyone with a really big, empty wall, I sure would like to keep my car in the garage next summer.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives in Texas where the scenery and the people give her plenty of opportunity to admire God’s handiwork.

Favorite Moments from the 2008 Texas Republican Convention

Drama! Laughter! Heartbreak! Hurrahs!
The Texas Republican Convention 2008 had something for everyone.
We all take our freedom pretty seriously in this state, but it can’t hurt to laugh along the way as we are getting worked into a lather with the Presidential elections drawing near.
As tribute to the hard-working men and women who put on the event with the intention of doing their part in the self-governing process, here’s my list of favorite moments at the convention.
-Favorite Missing In Action Candidate: John McCain who didn’t show up.
-Favorite Gag: The cardboard stand-up of McCain positioned in the aisle in front of the video crew and beamed to the big screens with delegates pretending to pose with the absentee candidate.
-Favorite Honor: Local guy and US Congressman, Louie Gohmert, received the Texas Eagle Forum’s Patriot of the Year award.
-Jazziest slogan: I have no idea what it means but my favorite stickers were the ones that labeled delegates “Red Hot.” Everybody was handing out stickers; some delegates reminded me of those VW vans that travel the world covered in stickers. This one actually said “Keep Texas…” in small font and was sponsored by the Growth, Opportunity and Prosperity PAC whoever they are.
-Favorite New faces on the East Texas Political Scene: William Hughey of Marshall in Harrison County who is running for District Judge, and his wife, Willie. His impromptu comments in the Congressional District 3 Caucus meeting received a long and enthusiastic standing ovation.
-Favorite political ad: The “Big Bad John” video put together by US Senator John Cornyn’s staff; it was the most entertaining of the lot. You can check it out at their website, but bet we won’t see the full version on TV. It’s funny, even if you’re not a Republican.
-Favorite Fashion Statement: People wearing Styrofoam elephants on their heads.
-Favorite New Face at the State Level: Dr. Robin Armstrong, Vice Chairman of the Republican Party. Okay, die-hard Republicans probably know this guy, but he was new to me. He is conservative, articulate, and took the time to listen to folks.
-Favorite Houston Restaurant near the Convention Center: The Grove, less pricey than most with a view of the sculpture garden that doubles as a park.
-Favorite fauxpas: When one of the national delegate nominees said he loved his wife and what she did to him…oops…for him.
Attending a party convention for the first time is an amazing and often bewildering experience. Sometimes it felt like a carnival, sometimes like a country western concert, and sometimes, for instance during the prayer breakfast, it felt like a call to worship.
There is something compelling about the process that has developed out of the foundation our forefathers designed.
No matter whose candidate wins in November, we really do live in a land where liberty is a celebration and a call to thanksgiving.


Cathy Primer Krafve lives and votes in Texas. Comments are invited at CaeKrafve2@aol.com of http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.