Books, books, books

Tonight was the launch autograph party for Literary Dallas, edited by my good friend Fran Vick.Fran hunted all over Dallas for a suitable venue and finally decided to have it in the Garden Room/Pool Area of the condo building where she lives. She cooked, her kids cooked, her son served as bartender, and her daughter as greeter. As with most events, the Vicks made it a family affair. Many of the contributors were there, also signing books, though it got to be chaos--we couldn't keep them in their seats, and a few books disappeared mysterously. I sold one old friend a book, he set it down to talk to somebody, and it was gone--I always thought literary people were so honest. And you could tell by the look of the people that this was a literary crowd. I saw old and good friends, met people whose names I know but have never met before, got hugs from the Vick adult children. It was hectic but fun--and good food and wine. Melinda and I pretty much spent the evening at the sales table but that way we got to see everyone.
And today I got edited copy of my memoir/cookbook, so I have a great project for the weekend--going through and either accepting or denying the editor's changes. I'm easy. I pretty mucy accept. Like my book of short stories, I'm really excited about this one. The editor, who also happens to be a friend, called the other day and said he thought it was a really good little book. He also said nice things about TCU Press, such as we are the one doing the best with Texas material! Music to my ears.
This has been the week that was--and I've been a vanishing person in the office. Monday--out of the office all day for the AT&T installation, Tuesday gone a chunk of the morning for the ophthamologist, in the office briefly, then a late lunch meeeting and dinner out, Wednesday--a blissfully calm day though an early lunch date, today in the office early in the morning, but home early to sneak in a nap before the trek to Dallas and the party. And tomorrow--late because of an early haircut appt. and leaving early for the church bazaar, lunch with friends, and then dinner with an out-of-town friend. I love my flexible schedule, but this has been too much. And I' a tad tired. But energized by the cookbook. Glad my life is not boring.

An Old Friend is back

When my ex and I were first married, we lived in Kirksville, MIssouri, home of the original school of osteopathic medicine. He was in school there, and I had recently finished my masters in English Ed. at what we then called the Teachers College, so I was working at the osteopathic college--I had a strong family background in osteopathic medicine. But we were poor, and we furnished our house from estate sales. Mom and Pop would move off the farm, and the kids didn't want that old oak furniture, so they sold it at auction-like sales.This table is an unusual square oak kitchen table. I'm not sure what we paid for it, but I have a round oak pedestal table with ball feet that I got for $3 (this was in the sixties) so I guess that gives you an idea. We committed what is probably antique murder by cutting the table down to coffee table height, but it went with us to each of the four houses that was lived in Then I got it in the divorce--he declared he no longer wanted old but was interested in Oriental modern. Great! I wanted the old stuff, and I still have most of it--a buffet with glass knobs and burled wood insets and a marble top. I remember I paid $12 for it just before we were moving to Texas, and he was furious that I was going to move a heavy marble top across the country!
But I had this table in every living room the kids and I had (we moved several times) until in the mid-'80s we moved into a ranch house--the first I'd ever lived in with a family room separate from the living room. The square oak was relegated to the family room when a decorator friend convinced me to get a glass-topped brass coffee table. That's been in my living room ever since, but it has become a problem--with grandchildren. They lean on it, they walk into it, when they were still crawling they hit their heads on it. To this day, Jacob tests me by leaning on it and watching to see what my reaction is. I say no, he moves, and in a minute he's leaning on it again--and watching me. So I decided that the glass table had to go to the guest room--where the square one had been relegated. Lewis, who keeps my house together, refinished the oak one and I came home today to find it in the living room. It is truly like having an old friend back. I confess I'd been home for several hours before I realized, "Wow! My table is here." But then I just sat and stared at it. It's a wonderful table.
Busy day, lots of work on my desk at the office, lots of Sisters in Crime emails when I got home, Christmas presents to order, phone calls to make as Obama block captain. And the biggie--a lunch meeting of my editorial board. Not many of them were present but the provost was, and he was the one I really wanted to hear my comments, so I deem it a success.
I think I may just loaf and read tonight.