Scooby is lying at my feet, looking at me with big eyes (one blue, one brown) in an adoring way, but it hasn't been a good week. After the debacle of getting him outside amidst thunder Wed.morning, I had to coax, urge, and do a bit of forcing on Thursday, but he went and I said a small prayer of gratitude. Yesterday when I woke up he had jumped out of his bed corner and was cowering in the closet. I spoke to him and left him there, until he heard the front door open when I went to get the paper. He came bounding out to find out what was going on, and it was when I went back through the living room I saw it--piles of poop. I had barely gotten the first, "Shame!" (delivered in my sternest, lowest voice) out when he made the fastest beeline to the back door you've ever seen. Last night I really barricaded him into his corner--a footstool topped with two chairs. He slept till 6:45, indicated he wanted to go out and trotted to the back door as he has for years. Maybe we're back to routine. I let him in again this afternoon as a trial.
It's a self-indulgent lazy day--lazy but I'm working, going through notes from sales meeting, writing. Self-indulgent because I'm cooking, although it didn't start out well. I decided this morning I wanted chicken salad for lunch, so I put a piece of chicken out to defrost while I went to Central Market. Came home, turned on the oven, seasoned the chicken, and put it in the oven--or thought I did. Went back about 45 minutes later, opened the oven--very hot and very empty. My still-raw chicken was in the microwave. Lunch was a little later than I anticipated, but it sure was good. My new chicken salad recipe (my invention) involves chicken, celery, scallion dressed with equal parts of sour cream and mayo, with lemon and blue cheese to taste. Tonight I'm going to grill scallops and a nectarine and serve (to myself only) with lime vinaigrette and a bit of pesto. Sounds really good.
I'm mulling over a problem. An editor suggested in an email that my second book should be first in the series, and I proceeded to make the changes requiring, which cannibalized the first book badly. But I haven't heard from the editor in response to the outline he requested, and it occurs to me that this doesn't feel right. It flows better if the first book is the first book. There are other editors who might disagree with the first one. Am I wrong to give up my vision of a series for the sake of an offhand opinon? Then again, no one else has shown interest--well, another publisher did ask for 30 pages, and it hasn't been a month, so it's too soon to hear.
I'm delighted with Obama's pick of Joe Biden, although quickly the news is full of his shortcomings. I have always thought he made such good sense on Sunday morning talk shows, particularly about Iraq. A friend wrote that when I grow up (well, that's not the way he said it--see his comment on my previous post) I might become a conservative like the rest of the old-timers. I don't think so. Most of my friends and contemporaries are confirmed liberals and plan, like me, to stay that way.