One of those days

The view from Jordan's window

Final pictures from Blanco. Jordan comes home tomorrow, and life will resume its normal pace. Thanks to Christian, who has done a great job of seeing that I have company each day and pretty much tending to supper. Tonight was designated a leftovers night, and I had some in the fridge, but I opted to make tuna salad and have it with cottage cheese—my favorite combination. Maybe it was because Sam Sifton’s New York Times cooking column this morning said this was a week for tuna salad.

It was certainly a salad day for me—one of my favorites for lunch: tomatoes, avocado, hearts of palm, and blue cheese, all doused with straight lemon juice, no oil. So good. If I’d had watercress, I would have added it for a pungent taste.

Otherwise, I’d almost write the day off. I spend most of my days and evenings at my computer—it’s where I work, eat, read, “talk” to friends. And today I wanted to throw the darn thing through a window. I tried to log into an online organization—they had recently completely redone their web site, and I guess there are some bugs not yet worked out. The password I had carefully copied, pasted, and saved wouldn’t work. The webmaster got me by that, and I have a new password—still not a sensible combination of letters and numbers that I can remember. So I cut and pasted again.

Over the weekend, I read voraciously to finish a book for review, and last night I wrote the review, remembering a thousand-word deadline. Today when I got into the site, I read the directions—500 words. I cut mercilessly, really butchered my golden prose—and got it down to 840 words. An unusual problem for me, since I usually write short.

I filled out the form for book review submission, but it would not accept the ISBN (international standard book number)—the form had it spaced a way that the number didn’t fit. Back to the webmaster, though I was sure by this time, she thought I was incurably tech-challenged. Not at all—others had the same problem. So I got around that one too, and the book is officially reviewed. Will be up on the Story Circle Network site tomorrow or the next day.

Then I turned to my entry on Helen Corbitt for the Handbook of Texas and discovered that several of the editor’s questions were beyond me. I ended answering questions with questions, which made me feel totally inadequate. I realized that’s why I write fiction—I’m not a dive-deep researcher, as is my good friend who is editing these entries. More frustration.

I think I’ll spend the rest of the evening with a good, cozy mystery and escape all this worrying. Tomorrow, back to editing on my own cozy mystery. So glad and grateful that I have meaningful work to do in retirement. Makes me a happy camper and, I hope, keeps my brain active and me young.

This morning, after that lovely six o’clock rain, weather people forecast wild storms today. Nothing. By tonight, when Jean came by for a glass of wine, she reported that there was no rain in the foreseeable future—but suddenly, the sky has that funny cast to it. I wouldn’t be surprised if we have a storm headed our way. Stay safe, everyone.

Shopping on the square in Blanco

Jordan says they only got ice and soft drinks

No browsing in t he stores

and they are nicely masked. Good girls.