Doing Something Right

Eighty-six years ago on July 2, I was born to my mother Hazel and father Chester.  Eighty-six years!  Since my eightieth birthday, I’ve had a birthday bash at my favorite, local Mexican food restaurant.  Except for the COVID year, that is.

This year’s party was another exceptionally fun party for me.  I love watching as many as thirty of my friends and neighbors get together for this party.  People who see each other once each year at this event.

It takes time to prepare for this party.  I always decorate the tables and make name tags for each person.  This year was no different.  Blue table coverings.  Flameless candles (every year the batteries must be put back into the candles; they are stored in the warm house, away from the cold of the garage where the candles are stored.  Grand #2 helped with bringing the decorations in from the garage where they are stored between parties).  Colorful sprays – red, white and silver, blue, and multi-colored.  And, this year,  Daughter #1 and Grand #2 added colorful Mardi gras necklaces – that I insisted everyone wear.  And, that Kyle gathered from everyone to wear around his neck!

Each year, the name tags are different.  This year I made my usual round name tags.  They were held by white, tiny clothes pins with the attendees’ names on them.  On the tag is my name, 86 years, born 1938.  And, sparkly stuff.  I love – LOVE – chachki! 

By the way, I didn’t know how to spell that word, looked it up, and found this.  Which I’m including for the edification of all.  More than once, I asked the computer what is the correct spelling of chachki in English.  And, I kept getting this response:  Tchotchke with the definition below.

“Tchotchke (pronounced TZOTZ-keh, TCHOTCH-keh or TCHOTCH-kee) is a Yiddish term that refers to toys, trinkets, or decorations. The word often appears in the diminutive form (whatever that means) of tchotchkele (TCHOTCH-keh-leh).”

Anyway, I added lots of chachki (or tchotch-keh, or whatever) to the badges.  Those two-inch, white, wood clothespin held each badge. 

Los Portales staff and Grand #2 helped by arranging the tables, covering the tables in blue, placing the red and white napkins at each place, and turning on the flameless candles, arranging the sprays, and placing the ten-inch, gold, sparkly “86” where it belonged.  Unlike some other years, the tables were decorated by the time guests started to arrive; sometimes, I’m behind schedule.  When that happens, early guests always help with the final touches.

When all of the guests were seated and had been served drinks, the party began.  Larry died in July of 2017, my birth month; as you probably know, we would have celebrated our 60^th wedding anniversary the following October.  At the party, I always read one or two of the poems I wrote about him from my book, A Life Well Lived.  This year was no different; I read “Gumball Machine” and “Fajitas.” 

Gumball Machine

At the gasoline station
He stood in front of
The gumball machine.
Like a time machine,

It took him back to his youth .
The attendant swung
The long lever back and forth
Pumping gasoline into the glass jar
So it could gravity drain
Into his dad’s car.

Inside the tiny building
Stood the gumball machine
With jawbreakers for a penny.

Put in the coin
Turn the handle
The gumball dropped
Into his hands.
Sometimes, he’d get a prize, too.
Magic ring and  jawbreaker.

Today’s machine
Has three candies.
Gumballs
M&Ms
Candy corn.

Today’s quarter
Brings down the treat.
Put in the coin.
Turn the handle.

He was ten years old, again.

++++++++++++++++++++

Many of the guests have heard this poem before, but it is so appropriate because Los Portales is, of course, a Mexican food restaurant.

Fajitas

Larry loved Mexican food.
Truth be told,
He liked food.
But, not fajitas.

They were too much work.
He wanted restaurant food
to be presented
ready to eat.
Fajitas are not.
There are all of these little dishes.

A dish for tortillas.
A dish for meat –
chicken…always chicken.
A dish for lettuce.
One for onions.
One for tomatoes.
Another for sour cream.
And guacamole.
And cheese, and pico de gallo.
And refried beans.

And, Larry had to put it
together to eat it.
No, thanks.

Give him a smothered
burrito, any day

+++++++++++++++++++

 Cupcakes were the dessert. Red, white, and blue frosting (of course) with the numbers 86 on top.  Grand #2 and Greta distributed the cupcakes to guests.  Left over cupcakes went to other restaurant patrons and the restaurant staff.

My hope always is that my guests have had a good time.  I know that I had a good time.  When the party had reached it’s end, I knew that I’d done something right as guests left saying to each other, “See you next year.”

Once in a while, it is good to do something right.

Be Safe and Be Well
The Cranky Crone
Thoughtful comments are appreciated.