Monday, August 31, 2020

Post-vacation exhaustion—and an announcement




Why is it that when you come back from a vacation in which you’ve done nothing but relax, even a brief vacation, you’re exhausted. Last night after three days of reading, sleeping, and being waited on hand and foot, I was exhausted when we got home. I took two naps before I went to bed—slept soundly each time and again all night. If you’d asked me to do anything that required a brain, I’d have declined. I had no ambition for the tasks that waited on my desk.
Today my tiredness is of a better-earned variety. I’ve put in a hard day’s work. Spent most of the morning trying to master Instagram and a graphic design program called Book Brush. The promotion says you can design an ad or announcement on Book Brush in a minute and a half. Took me two hours, but I did finally come up with an Instagram post that shows the cover of Irene and an Amazon logo—don’t ask for a buy link. That’s beyond me at this stage of the game. And the big problem is that I can’t figure out how to get it from Book Brush to Instagram.
In fact, I can’t figure out how to post anything on Instagram. Jacob came out to help me but began with the words, “I have no idea what I’m doing.” He does Instagram on his phone, and it’s a completely different program than the computer version. I guess most people do it on their phone, but this is one time I’ll plead the age card. My fingers are too clumsy to do much but punch in a phone number or text the simplest of messages. Instagram would be a waste on my phone. So I’m stymied, but if I take the long view, I figure I’ve made great progress in the last couple of days that I’ve worked on this. It will, like all computer programs, eventually become second nature. I take comfort in the fact that Jacob is completely baffled by Facebook, which I can hop, skip, and jump around. It’s an age difference thing.
But that’s my big announcement: Saving Irene is now available for advance orders on Kindle Direct Publishing. If you belong to Kindle Unlimited, it’s free but comes with a plea from me—please read all the pages. It will go live on September 16 on Kindle and other platforms. Meanwhile, here’s the Amazon link: https://www.amazon.com/Saving-Irene-Culinary-Judy-Alter-ebook/dp/B08GXB8KP6/ref=sr_1_1?crid=39HNEDP7XFTY5&dchild=1&keywords=saving+irene+by+judy+alter&qid=1598918748&s=books&sprefix=SAving+Irene%2Cstripbooks%2C217&sr=1-1
To add to my exhaustion of the day, I’m fixing chicken hash and salad for the family for supper. It involves more steps than I remembered: cook the chicken, cook the potatoes, chop onion, celery, garlic; make chicken broth from Better Than Bouillon. And cook it in stages—onion, then add celery and garlic, then potatoes, chicken, broth, and heavy cream. I remember it as very good; hope my memory isn’t fooling me.
Meanwhile, the Burtons have gone to Coppell to deliver a birthday cake. It’s Christian’s father’s 80th—a landmark birthday. They were to celebrate yesterday, but all summer the family has been gathering in the driveway, masked and distanced. Yesterday was deemed too hot for that, and Christian’s father wisely did not want all his seven children and grandchildren to come in the house. He had, he said, worked so hard to keep them safe from the virus, he didn’t want to risk it. I am cheering for him, knowing how hard it is to forego hugs from children and grandchildren, especially on a special occasion.
Just got a message they’re on their way, so I guess I better put that hash in the skillet.



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