WINE AND CHEESE

IT'S BECOME A TRADITION since we moved in 3 years ago, but we weren't the initiators, I promise. On Friday afternoons from 3:30 until 4:15, the Tea Room is cleared of coffee, tea, ice water, juice, pastries and fruit. It becomes a wine bar where Tamara utilizes her skill as a waitress, remembering each resident's preference ahead of their being seated. She's remarkable.

So is Jack Frost, our resident President who brings his several 
harmonicas. No memory problems there as he pulls song after song from his memory bank, filling the air with music.

"D", seen in the background, is the first to admit that her recent memory plays tricks on her, but when music plays, it moves D's soul and she either breaks into dance or song and it's a moving thing to see or hear. She was an elementary school teacher and rightly felt that music was all-important for her students.

Yesterday, nachos appeared in place of cubes of cheese. Much as I like tradition, a variation once in a while is a welcome thing.

It's tricky to write about the Manor, for sometimes management peeks in and I'd be mortified if I were ever to be taken to task for my comments. I'm going to be brave and share with you that a couple of times at our monthly dinners, as the champagne was being poured, I've caught sight of the words "Alcohol removed". Other times, not. It's interesting to contemplate. 



I have my own good gauge for alcohol content. In my latter years, my cheeks have begun to flush after even half a glass of wine. No doubt about it......last night's libations were the real thing.

“Wine is constant proof that God loves us and loves to see us happy.”

Benjamin Franklin

WINE AND CHEESE

OUR SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA weather has warmed to the point that last Friday's wine and cheese hour could be held on the patio. When the gathering is confined to the Tea Room, we find the din of so many bodies.......especially hearing impaired ones......in a small space to be taxing to talk over, so we don't take part during the cold weather.  But when the temperatures allow, there's nothing more

relaxing than to sit there in the late afternoon when the sun is lowering and the breeze is gentle. The harmonica comes out of Jack's pocket and one of the ladies who has music in her soul begins to lead the group in song. For a little while, all feels right with the world.

There's room for about 25 of us, 30 if we scoot over. The people watching is rewarding. Months ago, one of the ladies who was in her 90s, stood up and her slacks dropped and puddled around her ankles. I'm not altogether sure that she was aware of what happened, before a younger woman rushed to help. It was a wickedly wonderful moment and I didn't wield my camera.

The other evening I was pleased to see two of the more senior women in attendance. They appeared to be having a good time. The atmosphere certainly was different from the silent world in which they both usually exist. The one in the wheelchair is about as big as a minute. She always has a ready smile and admits to being lonely at times. The people watching paid off when one of them dropped a little square of cheese on the ground. She must have been a good housekeeper in her earlier days for she took a long toothpick and with difficulty bent to retrieve the cheese. It was a struggle as she made several stabs that fell short of the mark, but Mr. Bob's shutter clicked just as she connected and in that very moment a blog entry was born.

Every time I start thinking too much

about how I look,

I just find a Happy Hour

and by the time I leave,

I look just fine.