Sometimes I think I'll just pull up blogger, sign in, and see what comes to mind. Today balance still comes to my mind, like a gnawing problem. In public, I laugh about it and make a great show of my walking stick. In private I worry about it. I am to go to a party at a home where I've never been this afternoon, and I know there are extensive gardens--will I have to walk on uneven ground? Should I tell the friend who's driving, so I can grab her if need be? Last night we had our annual Autograph Extravaganza at the Botanic Garden and I did great--took my walking stick, showed it to a friend who really needs one, and made great jokes. But I worried during the brief program about walking out after dark, especially where there were still wet leaves. Fortunately Christian came along and I latched on to him. I fear he was astounded that I had suddenly become senile. I think being iced in set me back. I know these spells of anxiety come, and I also know that if I fight back, they move on. So I'm fighting back and waiting. Tonight I'm going to a party at a house that sits high on an embankment. The only stairs are in the middle of the two "lanes" of the driveway--not a railing in sight. I didn't go to the party for years because I couldn't do the stairs, but last year my good friends Margaret and David parked next door (their kids, the hosts, had bought that house) and we crept through the front yard in the dark--almost as perilous as the stairs! This year the house is sold but we have leave to park there and go down the side of the house, which is better lighted. So I'll go to a party I really enjoy!
We had a smaller crowd than usual at the Extravaganza. I suspect many people, like me, were still in storm mode. But Carlton Stowers gave an excellent and moving talk on why he wrote a "happy" book--Where Dreams Die Hard--about the tiny town of Penelope and its six-man football team after years of writing true crime fiction. And I signed a lot of copies of Noah's Ride, so there were probably enough book sales to make the bookstore happy.
On a happier note, I've begun cooking for my annual no-tree tree trimming party (okay, there was a tree for years when the kids were around)--and other things. When we were ice-bound I desperately wanted chili, even if it wasn't homemade, but discovered someone, maybe me, had eaten the jar of Bush's chili (I may not like the president but I sure do like the beans with his name) that I thought was in the cupboard. So this morning I made a big pot of beer chili--Jordan, Christian, and Jacob (Jacob at 5 months won't eat any) will come as will Sue next door and maybe her friend who just moved into her garage apt. (Sue's kids apparently don't eat chili!) But I also made a big batch of Texas trash--homemade is just plain better!--and some bars with graham cracker crumbs, Eagle brand milk, chocolate chips, coconut and nuts--wow! These go in the freezer for the party.
The mystery languishes on the back burner--I'm thinking!
It's funny but these days someone unexpected will tell me they've read my blog and enjoyed it. So here's a thank-you to Mike Blackman who said that last night. And another thank-you to Glenn Dromgoole, who probably doesn't read the blog but told me he liked the first two chapters of my cookbook! There's always something to be thankful for!