Saturday, September 21, 2013

Not my finest hour

Tonight was not my finest hour. I expected to take Jacob for grilled cheese at the Grill at six--or possibly six-thirty. It was seven-thirty by the time we got there--I was hungry, cranky, and frustrated. I had a lot to do that I would have started on except I kept thinking the child would arrive any minute. This morning, he was cranky because I said a friend of mine might go with us--no one, he said, would talk to him. Well, the friend didn't go, he and I ate in total silence while he played with his phone--which he'd been told earlier not to do. To top it all off, he wanted his usual sandwich and fries--but it turned out he wasn't really hungry because he'd just had pizza. Definitely not my finest hour. Came home to fix things for a salad supper tomorrow night, and the mangos are still hard as rocks! Oh, well, I'll think about that tomorrow.
I did have a fine evening last night. Went to hear Texas author Tom Zigal talk to TCU's Bookish Frogs group. His new book is Many Rivers to Cross, a novel set in the three days following Katrina. It's about an African-American man who travels to New Orleans (when everyone else is going the other way) to rescue his daughter and her two small children. Zigal said he had the plot in his head before he realized that it had to be an Black man because Katrina was particularly an African-American tragedy. The section he read--first chapter--was powerful, and I'm looking forward to reading the book.
Otherwise my lazy weekend has turned out not to be so lazy. Jacob and I had fun at the grocery, mostly because I bought him a spooky hand with a bag attached to collect treats. Other than that, I spent today running down facts and spellings, adding a bit to my novel because I had an "Aha!" moment in the night, and, tonight, getting ready to serve breakfast to four adults and one child and supper to two ladies tomorrow. The supper has me more baffled than breakfast--though I always end up fishing my scrambled eggs out while they're still soft and runny while others wait until they turn to hard little rocks. The result is I eat breakfast alone and am through by the time others join me. Yep, I'm still cranky.
Going out on the deck to read The Virginian, which I'm enjoying all over again.

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