This little caper took place on November 22, but I couldn't blog about it until after Christmas because it involved a gift.
I don't quite know how I got so lucky, what with traveling to Southern California maybe four times a year to see Nasreen. The fact that Ree Drummond,
the Pioneerwoman, planned her one-and-only book signing in the Los Angeles area for the very weekend I'd be there was a stroke of luck. Farida knew about the signing, in fact, was the one who told me about it, but there was no way she could get down there in time to go. I decided I'd see if I could persuade Nasreen to accompany me so I could get a signed copy of the cookbook for Farida. I read Ree's blog religiously, but I don't generally explore the cooking section. Although it doesn't look like it based on Ree's slender appearance, the Pioneerwoman cooks with wayyyyyyyy too much butter (and other fattening things) for me, so I was doing this strictly for my daughter. She often tries out Ree's recipes, including the blog-titled Chicken Spaghetti.
The signing was to take place on Sunday at 5:00 p.m. at the Border's in Torrance. Since cataract surgery at the end of 2008, driving at night has not been as much of an adventure as it once was, but I'm still not confident of my abilities, especially in LA traffic. I really wanted Nasreen to do the driving. Although she had no idea whatsoever who Pioneerwoman is, she agreed to donate her entire Sunday to helping me procure a copy of Ree's newly-published
cookbook. Disclaimer: At the time she agreed, she didn't realize she'd be missing an Eagles game. If she had, I might have been forced to go it alone.
"Entire Sunday" was not much of an exaggeration. I'd read about the crowds Ree had attracted at previous appearances, so I told Nas we really should plan to be there between 3 and 4. We arrived at 3:00 to find probably 20 people already there and a line at the cash register. I entered the line to buy Farida's book and discovered they were on sale that day (buy one, get the second half off), so I had to buy one for myself, too, despite my declaration that I wouldn't cook from it.
By the time I perused the other aisles and located Nasreen in the CIA exploits section of the store, the ladies--and a few gents--were starting to grab the chairs that Borders' staff allocated for the signing. We figured we'd better stake out our spots as well. It was great fun, for me at least, to talk with other folks, some of whom had come from as far as the San Fernando Valley. Nasreen was completely mystified as we chatted about Charlie, Marlboro Man, the punks, the ranch and the cookbook as if those people were old friends. Many necks were decorated by Nikons and Canon DSLR's, and I regretted I'd decided not to bring mine. By the time we'd spent nearly two hours waiting for Ree to appear, we were old friends with some of the attendees. I found the fellow behind me fascinating as he described his THREE bassett hounds. I've been trying ever since to talk my roommate, Carol, into adopting her hairdresser's bassett, Gunner, who's looking for a new home. According to Carol, it's because he's "too needy."
Shortly after 5:00 pm, Ree appeared, looking completely composed, even though she'd just deplaned after a flight from Minneapolis. She proceeded to answer audience questions for an hour or so, as Nasreen continued to wonder at all these weird people who would give up their Sunday afternoon for a COOKBOOK.
She hadn't seen nuttin' yet. After the Q and A, we lined up according to the wristbands we'd been issued when buying our books. Luckily we were in the first 80 (that would be EIGHTY) people. Ree is simply amazing. She chatted up each one of us as she signed our books, looking completely at ease and unhurried. *I* would have signed as fast as possible in order to get the you-know-what outta there. Not Ree. She graciously allowed photos with anyone who wished, signed multiple copies of her books and answered the same question (I suspect) over and over and over. One person purchased ten copies for Ree to autograph.
Through it all Nas did her best to avoid looking bored. She'd brought a book, she'd brought her iTouch full of videos to watch. She held up well under the conditions, which included three children directly behind us who didn't want to be there any more than she did. She even took her turn in line from time to time so I could sit down.
At 8:00 p.m. we left, our two cookbooks signed at last. Nasreen shook her head at the idea there were so many crazy people who would hang out for this.
"Farida had better appreciate this," she remarked as she fiddled with the radio dial on our way down Torrance Boulevard toward the freeway onramp.
"Oh my God, the Eagles are on." She shook her head in disgust as she discovered the broadcast. "Farida really owes me for this."
***
Christmas morning we found ourselves buried under an avalanche of gifts, most of them tagged "Hunter." I think the only gift under the tree for Farida was mine. (We try not to do adult gifts in our family, although I certainly scored big this year.)
Farida reached into her bag and realized it was a book. She, of course, didn't know which one. "What in the world did you get me," she asked, puzzled.
As she pushed the tissue aside, her eyes got wide.
"It's, it's, it's The Pioneerwoman Cookbook." She was clearly overwhelmed.
"Look inside." I urged.
She turned the first page. "Keep going," I said.
"IT'S SIGNED. You went to the booksigning. You met REE!"
By this time, Nasreen was completely taken aback. "Farida, you really wanted that book?"
It took Farida some time to realize that her sister had actually gone to the booksigning, too. "Yes, I really do. Thanks, Nas. I love it."
"I want you to know those people were really crazy. I couldn't believe the line. It was practically out the door, and it was still just about as long when we left the store."
Farida kept turning the book over and over, opening it and reading a recipe, examining the photos. The book was a big hit, even more than *I* thought it would be.
Ree had been blogging about each of her stops, and I worried that the LA booksigning, replete with photos, might appear on her website--with us in full view. As it happens, we Los Angeles folk are stll waiting for Ree to tell us what she thought of us. I needn't have been concerned that our secret would be divulged before Christmas.
Farida's reaction made the effort more than worth it, although I have to admit that I truly enjoyed meeting Ree, too. She is just as real as she claims to be, just as down to earth and friendly as she appears on her blog.
I wonder how many blogs have been birthed because of her.
This is one.
At left, we explored the Shalimar Gardens in company with my sister- and brother-in-law Jamilah and Iqbal, and SiL and BiL Safia and Nayyir. 
I have been told that these attributes, which include the action in the photo below, as well as teaching my grandson to politely say, "excuse me, I have rectal flatulence" when he accidentally (or not) lets loose with a butt duck can be blamed squarely on his Aunt Nasreen. 
So . . . perhaps you are beginning to see why I hate this torture device so.
I don't do birthdays. I keep telling everyone that, but for some reason no one believes me. This is not a new thing. As long as I can remember, I have never wanted to become a year older. Those landmarks most kids live for (16, 21, etc.), I despised. Of course, they came and went anyway.
Also enjoyed a conference call with Nasreen and another round of "Happy Birthday" with the entire tribe. Hunter has really gotten into birthdays since just before his own number four less than a month ago. He now can get through the entire song.
I also refused the invite of other long-term friend Jenny and husband Jack to go up to her house and bead, for the same reason.