A blog for a day with nothing much to say

I love finding new words, so here are two to increase your vocabulary:

Ever feel like tearing your hair out? There’s a word for that: trichotillomania. And here’s a word that I think is appropriate for so much around us: jackasseries—the actions of jackasses.

Which brings me to a topic that has been much on my mind and was a major point of discussion at happy hour tonight, with a surgeon chiming in: mask wearing for kids in schools. I have five grandkids going to public school in Texas this fall, and I am indignant, furious, beyond angry at Governor Abbott’s decree (as though he were king) that schools cannot mandate masks. I know teenagers well enough to know that if other kids in the classroom aren’t wearing masks, they won’t either. If they were mandated, no problem. Most would comply, and those that didn’t would be disciplined accordingly. It’s not rocket science, Greg—it’s logical medical science, and if you put your mind to it, instead of concentrating on your political career, you’d see that.

Would you believe I have two granddaughters out of high school? One recently graduated from Colorado University and I’m not sure what she’ll do this year—she’s contemplating a career in nursing. The other, her sister, is off to UCLA and said to me this weekend, “Juju, when you see me next, I’ll be a California girl.” Ha! I told her not to get carried away with the idea, but the truth is she will fit in California perfectly, and like her Colorado sister, I’m afraid she’ll never come back to Texas for more than an occasional brief visit.

But I digress. I am worried about the remaining five: they are all old enough to be vaccinated, thank goodness, but as the current surge continues, I’m afraid we’ll be back to quarantine conditions. This will hamper both their educational and social experiences, and I worry about it a lot. The FWISD, where Jacob is enrolled, reported a major drop in scholastic achievement after last year’s remote schooling. This year, so far, all the kids have to be present in the classroom, but there can be no mask requirement.

Blessings on the Houston mayor who has issued a mask mandate in defiance of Governor Abbott. Let’s see what the guv does about that.

I do realize there are other things going on in the world at large—like the Olympics, and three cheers for Simone Biles who returned to win a bronze today. I saw someplace where she said, “I had to go out there for me.” Best reason ever.

There are also things going on in my small, constricted world. Like I wrote another thousand-plus words today on the novel-in-progress and can suddenly see how it’s going to work out. A criticism I’ve heard of several of my mysteries is that the ending seems rushed, so I’m trying hard to avoid that. But I can see the plot structure—and, for me, a pantser who never outlines, that’s a great plus. What I do, often, after a day of writing is make notes on what it’s occurred to me will happen next.

Tonight neighbors came for happy hour—they had been to El Paso with their four children this weekend for the first communion of their third child, a daughter. Having lived in El Paso for many years, they were full of stories of reunions and good times. Jordan and I on the other hand shared stories of our weekend in Austin. So it was jolly—until we got to the subject of masks.

Jordan had said we would have dinner on our own tonight, so I ordered Dover sole with yesterday’s Central Market order. Cooked it tonight, and guess who ate half with me—Miss Jordan. Jacob, who had his second Covid vaccine yesterday, was asleep, and Christian was at a happy hour. Fish was good and will be the subject of my Gourmet blog this Thursday. Sort of all things fish because I have lots of fishy stories.

But tonight—back to that Diane Mott Davidson mystery that I haven’t gotten to for almost a week. Good times ahead, folks. Wear your masks and be happy.