I hit the floor running this morning a little before seven but noticed that my neighbor's car wasn't in her driveway. Really unusual for her, and since her elderly mom has been failing lately, I worried. Apparently with good cause. Her mom died this morning, with her family at her bedside. They've all been on my mind all day. Tomorrow I will devote the day to cooking a dinner big enough to feed most of the family that will begin to arrive--a Tex-Mex casserole that serves at least fiften, marinated veggies, and salsa (homemade) and chips. It's not much, but it's what I can do.
Proofread like mad all day today but snuck in a nap before Gayla arrived at three, and we left for Dallas for a signing for my good friend Fran. The party was at the home of a well-known photographer and in a part of Dallas I guess I've missed--opulent puts it mildly. Looking for the right address, we passed mansion after mansion on a small, almost hidden road. Laura Wilson's house, by contrast, is modest but absolutely wonderful--lots of open space for entertaining, exhibiting her photographs--one room is a gallery, and a wonderful kitchen/pantry. She must entertain often, and she does it with grace. The back yard (that seems a small term for it) is gorgeous, and we watched some rabbits cavorting in the far part. I got pressed into service at the signing table--handing people sticky notes on which I asked them to put what they would like Fran and her co-editor, Jane Monday, to write. A few people were put off--Fran will know, they said. They don't realize in the flurry of a signing an author can forget her own child's name. I also took cash and checks while Gayla handled credit card sales (she doesn't trust me), took the shrink wrapping off books, and was a general go-fur, but it was fun to be back on that end of the business again. Saw several people I was really glad to see, and truth be told, I'm better off at parties like that if I have a chore. So I enjoyed it.
Got to make my shopping list for tomorrow--another busy day. I don't seem to have any other kind lately.
Proofread like mad all day today but snuck in a nap before Gayla arrived at three, and we left for Dallas for a signing for my good friend Fran. The party was at the home of a well-known photographer and in a part of Dallas I guess I've missed--opulent puts it mildly. Looking for the right address, we passed mansion after mansion on a small, almost hidden road. Laura Wilson's house, by contrast, is modest but absolutely wonderful--lots of open space for entertaining, exhibiting her photographs--one room is a gallery, and a wonderful kitchen/pantry. She must entertain often, and she does it with grace. The back yard (that seems a small term for it) is gorgeous, and we watched some rabbits cavorting in the far part. I got pressed into service at the signing table--handing people sticky notes on which I asked them to put what they would like Fran and her co-editor, Jane Monday, to write. A few people were put off--Fran will know, they said. They don't realize in the flurry of a signing an author can forget her own child's name. I also took cash and checks while Gayla handled credit card sales (she doesn't trust me), took the shrink wrapping off books, and was a general go-fur, but it was fun to be back on that end of the business again. Saw several people I was really glad to see, and truth be told, I'm better off at parties like that if I have a chore. So I enjoyed it.
Got to make my shopping list for tomorrow--another busy day. I don't seem to have any other kind lately.
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