A Day of Contradictory Adventures

When Jacob woke up this morning, almost the first thing he asked was, "Are we going to church?" I said yes, and he asked, "Now?" I told him it was a bit early--7:15 for an 11:00 service. Thereafter he asked constantly, and when once I said "One more hour," he threw up his hands and said, "Oh, man!" Well, we got to church, parked with the valet, and made out way to the 4-year-old Sunday school. That child, who had been so excited about church, suddenly grew shy beyond belief--he hid his face in my clothes, he clung to me, he refused to answer questions from the teacher, who was a very kind woman. We comforted and cajoled, all to no avail. I offered to take his hand and walk him into the room where other children were playing. That was okay for a minute, until the teacher swooped him up in her arms (no small feat as heavy as he is) and hugged him. I thought for a minute we were home free, but he began to sob and reach for me and cry, "I want to go home." So go home we did. I paid $2 for valet parking for ten minutes. Once at home, he said, "I want t go to church." I said no, because he had cried. He said, "I won't cry." We have worked out sort of a compromise--we'll try it next week, but I plan  to take a book and stay in the schoolroom as long as I need to. He promises he won't be shy or cry--but that was in the comfort circle of his parents and his Juju.
We came home, and I seasoned the ground lamb for burgers tonight--more about that in a minute. Then I asked if he wanted to go get a hot dog. There's a drive-up stand not too far away that sells hot dogs and frozen custards. Jacob said he wanted a milkshake when I asked, so I ordered two hot dogs and a kids shake.
Jacob: I don't want a hot dog.
Juju: You said you did.
Jacob: I said I didn't.
Juju, to the person at the window: Never mind.
Jacob: What about my milkshake?
So I ordered a kids milkshake and a hot dog for myself with kraut. On the way home, was had the following conversation:
Jacob: I want a hot dog.
Juju: No, you said you didn't, and I only got one for myself. I'll fix you chicken nuggets.
Jacob: I don't want chicken nuggets. Will you share your hot dog?
Juju: No, because you said you didn't want one. And anyway mine has sauerkraut on it, and you wouldn't like it.
When we got home he wanted to see my hot dog and, on looking at the kraut, said, "That's yucky." So when his mom called at five I reported he had three waffles with chocolate chips and a chocolate shake to eat all day. He did eat a pretty good amount of his lamburger for dinner.
The lamburgers were delicious--the recipe called for chopped fresh mint (of which I have an abundance), cayenne, cinnamon, salt and pepper. You pan fry the burgers in olive oil, and dress with lettuce, red onion, feta, and hummus. Of course, Jordan had to cook hers until it was lifeless, but mine was delicious.I ate half and saved half for tomorrow. The recipe called for melting the feta, but we decided that would make a mess and just put it beneath the burger. They were, I confess, hard to eat--so thick! But worth it.
Not a lick of work done this weekend but tomorrow it's back to the pattern I've established--work on the nonfiction project in the day and the fiction in the evening. Meanwhile, tonight, I'm going to keep reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo--it really is as good as Megan said and as all the reviews I've read have said.
A technological triumph: last night while Jacob and I were at dinner, my access to Outlook disconnected--I couldn't get on through the web, through my TCU connection at home, through the desktop at TCU or the generic TCU connection they've given me. I thought the whole system was down, but I called a friend who said hers worked fine. So I unfroze my account plus changed my password, and it works again. A relief, plus I do feel a bit like a tecchie.Simple, I know but hey, I figure it out myself!

Grandkids, and food, of course

Jacob is coming for his regular Friday night sleepover tonight. His mom was reminding him of that last night while he was eating a piece of cake (not sure of the occasion--maybe a reward for using the potty). He looked up and asked, "Does she have cake?" Jordan called and wanted me to rush out and get cake--I said I'd give him a Girl Scout thin mint out of the freezer. Then Jordan called Jamie, caught all four of them in the car on their way out for supper. She told Jamie to ask the girls if they want Jacob to come spend the night Saturday night. There were shrieks of "Yes," and then Edie, bless her heart, asked, "Is Juju coming too?" Yes, Juju is also going to Frisco though, alas, Christian will not--he's back to working weekends now that the weather is warm and Joe T.'s is serving on the patio.
Jay the neighbor is batching it this week, so he came over for leftover spaghetti and brought a luscious salad. It was in the high 80s yesterday, and we had the first dinner of the season on the porch. An absolutely lovely evening, with not too much breeze. I poured red wine over the once-frozen leftover spaghetti to loosen it up a big, but it was a mistake--the wine flavor didn't have time to cook it and it was too obvious in the pasta.
Since I'm off red meat for a while (after I've eaten all the leftovers) I've had salmon croquettes (a favorite from childhood), tuna salad, and tonight I think I'll make myself some chicken salad and just dice up chicken for Jacob. I got an avocado--he calls it go-go--so I told Melinda we were having go-go for supper, and she laughed. That's her grandson's name for her.
This has been a quiet week, and I've gotten a lot done, caught up on a lot of things, but next week promises to be hectic with entertaining. I'm having a small group of Bookish Frogs, about 12 people, here to meet an author Wed. night. I'll serve one dessert, coffee and wine. Saturday morning is a going-away brunch for Mary Lu, with 12 women, and Sunday--heaven help me--Jordan has requested her birthday dinner, which if I don't watch her will involve a cast of thousands for tacos--all that chopping and shredding! It will all work out, I know, but I'm tired all ready.
Meantime, I should (cross your fingers, please) have a fairly easy evening. Jacob is often so tired after a day at school that he quietly watches DVDs, while I sit at the table in the playroom and read. And tomorrow I have no errands, no grocery store runs, none of that--just a lazy time between when his parents pick up Jacob and we leave for Frisco (after his nap and mine!).

Whew!

Tonight I entertained eight or nine contributors to the book Grace & Gumption. It was billed as a reunion, but we talked a lot about the forthcoming cookbook, on which they are all working but are almost all late.It's amazing how these ladies can talk--three or four conversations at once and all interesting. I did something I rarely do--went and put in my hearing aids so I can hear what was going on. One of the earlier contributors dropped out, and her replacement arrived quite late with a laughing comment about "How to make a good first impression." Then everyone fired suggestions at her. The talk is always about new discoveries about the history of women in Fort Worth, research sources, and such. Fascinating and intellectually stimulating. I serve wine and make an appetizer, and everyone that can brings an appetizer. Those that come straight from work are excused, but we always have plenty. Funny how this group has bonded--but nice.
Earlier in the day I was supposed to meet a friend for lunch. We talked early in the morning, and I said I'd call her when I could get away from the office, probably about 11:30. Called at 11:35, no answer; called several times and thought maybe she had misunderstood and was waiting at the restaurant, so I went over there. Scanned the room and didn't see her. So I waited, ordered a sandwich to take home, and when she hadn't come by the time I got it I came on home. The phone was ringing, with Jan saying, "I'm at Carshon's waiting for you." I told her what happened and turned around, brown bag in hand, and went back. We had both been there at the same time, not seeing each other, and the staff, who know both of us, hadn't put it together. So we had a late but pleasant lunch.
I am so encouraged about things I hear about the forthcoming Obama administration. George Stephanopoulus (oops, George, I may have spelled your name wrong) said we have never in our lifetime (well, mine is longer than his) seen a cabinet of such intellect and knowledge put together so early. And another commentator--I forget who--said that what distinguishes Obama is intellectual curiosity whereas President Bush never wanted to do homework, study issues or have briefings. He wanted to act on instinct without knowing the facts. I think it's Obama's intellectual curiosity that most gives me hope.
Back to the cookbook, which I am still editing. I know I mentioned Jacob's school picture, but I can't resist adding it to the blog. I don't believe at all that it means that he'll be a cook like his Juju. It means someone dressed him in an outfit, but it's so cute--and contrary to his usual personality, he looks so solemn. The weight of the culinary world on his shoulders.

Wild man evening

Jordan, Jacob, and Christian came for dinner tonight--Christian being a last-minute addition because he was suddenly not scheduled at the restaurant. I had thawed a bison rib-eye that I thought Jordan and I could share but decided it was just enough for Christian. So I defrosted a chopped sirloin patty for us to share. Because I was afraid of the bison being a bit dry, after I cooked the steak and the sirloin, I put a blue cheese/panko topping on them and broiled them. Then I covered them with a red wine sauce--with shallots, garlic, thyme, beef broth, and red wine, reduced. The whole combination was really good and with Jordan's great salad all we needed for supper. I'm going to have to start buying more meat though--Jacob ate a good portion of everybody's meat and kept saying, "More meat."
After dinner, he became a wild man, going from English to Jacobspeak, throwing himself on his mother, his father, screaming, absolutely out of control. At one point he got sent to time out because he had been told not to play with the mini-blinds and he did it again. He could be heard calling, "Juju! Juju!" We took no pity on him. And when he came back, he was undaunted. Maybe all that red meat energized him.
Otherwise it was a peaceful day. I did early morning runs to Barnes & Noble--finished my Christmas list!--and Central Market. Elizabeth came to talk about ways to get up if I fall--bottom line is I can't do it. I can get to one knee, but I can't push up from there without something to hold on to. So there's another routine to practice. Plus she suggested more practice on my balance poses--tree and dancer's pose, which I dutifully did today. Our goal: get so I can do balance poses and warrior stances without a chair to grab on to and so I can get up without aid. May take a while, but she seems confident it can happen, so I'll believe too.
I've wrapped most of the famly gifts, baked almost all the tree trimming party pastries, and am feeling pretty good about the world. It will all hit me the week after Thanksgiving.
I proofed more of my cookbook today but may take a break tonight and read the Susan Wittig Albert mystery I bought myself today.

Why I'm Not a Gourmet (or a Gourmand)

Jacob and I had a pleasant evening last night. Sometimes I think he stays glued to his DVD too much, but then again it's nice he's that comfortable here. Periodically, he'll get up, say "'Mon, Juju" and beckon for me to follow him somewhere. He really wants to ride the concrete lions in my neighbor's yard but they are right by the street, and Jacob is still too quick to dart and slow to listen to "No." Neither Jordan nor I will take him. As usual he asked, "Where Mama go?" and I replied, "To the ball game" and burst into song--"Take Me Out to the Ballgame." He stared at me and said, "No, Juju."
But this morning, that child who usually sleeps till 7:30, woke up singing at 6 a.m. I lay in bed and listened but he didn't seem in distress--maybe he'd go back to sleep. Then he turned quiet, and I thought maybe he'd gone back to sleep, so I peeked. Big mistake! There he was standing looking at me and holding out his arms to be picked up. The problem, it soon appeared, was that his pajamas were soaking wet. We were up by 6:30. By nine we had had breakfast, played and were both rubbing our eyes. I predict early naps all around.
While Jacob was playing with his doll house last night, I thumbed through the latest issue of Gourmet. For me, the day Bon Appetit arrives is always special, and I devote part of the evening to leafing through it the first of many times. But I haven't taken Gourmet in years. Perhaps it was the combination of Ruth Reichel as editor--I love her books--and a special bargain, but I subscribed recently. This issue is about Paris and frankly, it's over the top for me, even Reichel's essay. Lots of foie gras served in odd ways, like pots de creme, and a restaurant specializing in offal dishes. I grew up on kidneys, probably still like them but never see them in the market, and I'd sure have to eat alone that night; I regularly eat tongue sandwiches, to the dismay of some lunch companions, and I used to cook liver for the children. I loved it; they hated it. Again, I haven't had it in years, and now we know it's not as good for you as we were told as kids.
But carpaccio of pig's foot? Cow's udders? Salad of shredded pig ears, that was "a textbook on the nature of crispness"? No, thanks. Some of the recipes were a bit strange too. Nobody I know wants Celery Root and Potato Puree with Chervil, and there were those beef cheeks again, this time braised in red wine with orange zest. There were some recipes that intrigued me, especially Moucha Mousse with Sichuan Peppercorns, described as a variation of the Mexican culinary wedding of chocolate and chile. But, all in all, I think gourmets live in a different world than I do. One of the critics of my yet-to-be published cookbook labeled me a "faux gourmet," (mostly because I'm not above using canned soup in casseroles, whereas this critic wrote she always made her own white sauce for King Ranch Chicken--no, no, it's Campbell's Mushroom Soup). Anyway I wanted to call my cookbook The Faux Gourmet, but it will be Cooking My Way through Life with Kids and Books in the Kitchen.
I'm not feeling like a fancy cook at all today. I think I'll have that leftover chicken salad for lunch and then a long nap. Cocktail hour? I'll put some crab and chili sauce on a block of cream cheese and serve tiny toasts with it. Easy! I promise I'll make the chili sauce from scratch.

A Rare Moment in a dissatisfied Day

Jacob did it this morning, he really did. He said sort of a child's version of "I love you, Juju." He'd spent the night, and his mom and a friend had come to get him. The friend was holding him when he reached out for a hug for me--his hugs and "love" involve tilting his head against yours. It's the ultimate sign of affection from him. And then he raised his little face for a kiss. As I turned away, Jordan shouted, "He said it! Did you hear him? He said, 'I love you, Juju.'" Well, darn, I didn't actually hear him but it was enough for me that his mom thought he'd said it. She said later that they got a half block from my house and he began to cry for Juju. Be still, my heart!
We had a good time overnight. He was pretty fixed on "Schreck," so even when Jay and Susan came to visit with him, he motioned for Jay to "'M'on" (Come on) and watch it with him. Jay explained clearly he did NOT come over here to watch a movie, and pretty soon Jacob reappeared in the living room, clutching Froggie and Puppy with a pacifier in his mouth (time to throw it out but he won't hear of it!). When I put him to bed, I could hear him rattling around in his bed and talking to himself for an hour, but he never cried, and when I looked just before I went to bed, he was sound asleep.
Jacob's burst of love was the highlight of an otherwise edgy day. I'm not sure what I wanted to happen, but whatever it was, it didn't. I thought I finished the fifth chapter of my novel, went to my office to print it out and check a back file, brought it home to proofread and it was all wrong. And I didn't want to settle down to fix it. I think the dentist appt. tomorrow is hanging over my head--first clue I had a really frustrating but long dream last night about trying to find the dentist's office. I'm going to a new dentist, recommended by my just-retired longtime dentist, because so far I've consulted two others and they've prescribed things so radical that I can't believe my whole mouth, which doesn't feel or look any different to me, went south in less than a year. I know I need some things done, but replacing every filling in my head? All at once?
Tonight I had my Fourth of July picnic--Hebrew National hot dogs, baked beans (northern style, known down here as sweet beans and they were--I put molasses in them), cole slaw, deviled eggs, and ice cream. My longtime mentor and his wife were my guests--Fred saw me through my graduate studies and has remained a friend and source of advice lo these almost 40 years. He's an avid mystery reader and has read my first mystery, made some suggestions ("slow down"--that's the story of my life) and he went home tonight with the first four chapters of the next one. We had a great time, laughing and sharing family stories, occasionally talking about the changing university and more often about TCU Press and its projects.
"Slow down" makes me think of yoga, which is supposed to make me slow down. Yesterday, during a lesson, I realized that Elizabeth's ten breaths for a pose take a lot longer than mine. Today I tried to slow down, hold a pose longer, not rush through the routine. Yesterday she praised me but to my mind I could do no right--my feet kept cramping, my balance wasn't good, I didn't do nearly as well as when I practice. Today I did much better and tried some of the new poses she taught me yesterday--hard to hold all of them in my head. And hard, as she said, to remember all the things you have to think about--stomach tucked in, hips over heels, back straight, and so on--while you hold a pose. Yoga is hard work.
I know I'm not going to work on Chapter 5 tonight, so I guess I'll just have to read more of that Diane Mott Davidson mystery.

A grandmothering weekend

So far, my weekend with Maddie is going great. I thought she would arrive in time for supper last night and was prepared with cuisine choices--Lebanese, Mexican, hamburgers, or seafood. But, in true Jamie fashion, they didn't get here until slightly after nine. Jamie hung out for a while, and it soon appeared that Maddie was reluctant to let him go--more than a little bit. She hung on to him, with tears said, "I don't want you to go," and finally sobbed outright. He was good and had several private talks with her and finally left with a promise to call from the road. She was teary and didn't want to do anything else until her daddy called. She came to me panicky because she'd lost one of the things he gave her--turned out they were acorns. So when he called, he sent her out to the driveway to find another, and she was happy. After she talked to him, she was completley herself, and beat the tar out of me in a short Scrabble game.
We did have another bit of excitement as Jamie left--a possum ran down the driveway. I got a flashlight, and we could see it watching us, all curled up high in an oak tree. The dog was going bananas. Maddie didn't much like the possum, but Jamie and I were fascinated. My house is close enough to a big park, the zoo, and the river that was do often have critters. I worry about coyotes but figure Scoob is big enough to hold his own.
Today we shopped for a birthday present (Webkinz which I'd never heard of), went to Central Market, and spent a fortune at what Maddie called "the plant store." She was a big help--fetching things, pushing the cart, etc. Then we had lunch at the deli, where she declared she could eat every day, and a short quiet time at home during which Juju snatched a nap. Then off to play with Jacob for two hours. The power at their house kept going out and when it came back on the alarm wailed, which scared Maddie to death. She was not happy, but she loved playing with Jacob--and he was in hog heaven. Then it was supper at the Lebanese restaurant--dolma, stuffed squash, and a canelloni--my grandchild is cosmopolitan! Now we've made Rice Krispies treats (okay, not cosmopolitan all tlhe time) and settled down quietly.
I'm reading the newest Sue Grafton novel and haven't gotten much done today, except when Maddie was playing with Jacob. Work, what's that? My job is being a grandmother!

Quiet night

Shhh! Quiet! Jacob's asleep. He went down without a peep. This is his first time to spend the night with me, and his mother was more worried, I suspect, about my sleep than his. But so far, knock on wood, we're off to a good start. It's been a babysitting weekend. Yesterday I went to Frisco, got a brief glimpse of Maddie and Mel before they left on a Girl Scout camping trip, and then spent the evening with Jamie and Edie. This morning, Jamie had a sprint triathlon (he took second in his age group and sixth overall--pretty darn good!), and I stayed with Edie. At one point, she fixed me with her direct look and said, "Are you babysitting me?" I told her yes, and she asked where she would be if I hadn't come. I told her that her daddy wouldn't have done the race, and that seemed to staisfy her. Together we watched a lot of the food channel, though she insisted on turning it off because two programs in a row featured shrimp and she doesn't like shrimp.
It's been a good two days for me. Disgruntled authors and pesky business reports and all the things I worry about all the time are in the way far background. I slept heavily last night, albeit with weird dreams of which the only one I remember is that I was at the Democratic National Convention as part of Hilary's team. Is that a message? But this morning I woke feeling really good about the world, me, everything. I counted my vacation days, and I have more than I thought stockpiled, so I may take them to get that "being away from it" feeling. But I'll have to leave town! Wish I could find someone who wanted to go to Santa Fe for a week!
Weighty matters on my mind? Not many. I'm afraid I've also been escaping into mysteries. I read two more Cleo Cloyce coffeehouse mysterires, and enjoyed them, and now I'm reading--on my Kindle--an Aurora Teagarden mystery called Real Murders. I'd been saving the books on the Kindle for the Scotland trip, but now I feel I should be reading them. I find it easy to read on, though I know I'm under-utilizing all the marvelous things it will do. And I have to watch, because I occasionally hit the wrong button and it bounces from book to book. Sort of like Jamie's laptop when I tried to answer an email and it kept bouncing from line to line. I gave up.
Jamie talked to me again about his conviction that you have to believe in your goals, believe they'll come true, or they never will. That bounces me back to my mystery--I am convinced it's as good as many on the market (though the last two I've read are really erudite in references and solid in constrauction) and yet I'm not sure I believe I'll ever get it published. In a way, to me, it's like religion--a part of me would like to have a "born again" experience so that I could believe without a doubt, but I remain a liberal Christian who questions and doubts and always wonders if I've found true faith. It seems to me, in both cases, the burden is on me. And so I struggle with my mind, trying to convince it to believe.
I may start tomorrow very early, depending on Mr. Jacob. But his mom will come to get him about 9:30, and I'll go to Central Market to get stuff for dinner that night and for supper all week. I have gained some weight, and I'm going to start watching it much more carefully--all that butter I use to cook, the chocolate sauce I pile on ice cream at night. It's salads and veggies for me for a while. But tomorrow I'm cooking lamb burgers for Jordan and Christian--maybe Jacob will eat a bite. There's always an excuse for putting that diet off. But I really am going to watch. But after that Central Market trip--a good nap!

A hectic day in balmy weather

What a gorgeous day! Sunny, with a temperature in the mid- to upper 80s. Tonight it was so lovely I took a mystery out to the front porch and alternated between reading and watching the world go by. I am so lucky to live in this lovely area, with huge trees all around. Many of the trees on my street are still green and look from a distance like live oaks, along with some cedar across the street. But the elm and maple trees are just beginning to bud, and so is the redwood that I'd so worried about. I have tried to nurse a plumbago plant through the winter, and it shows no signs of buds but it has green in its stems. I'm still hopeful.
It was a hectic day in spite of the weather. I had an eight-thirty haircut appointment, so I decided that I wouldn't wash my hair, I'd just go as I was. Well, my hair looks like an egg beater has been after it when I wake up, so even with brushing it was pretty awful. I'm sure there's a connection between that and the fact that nothing I put on this morning looked right (I don't often try on several outfits--usually just throw it on and go). I finally made it to the salon, got my hair washed and cut, and then when Rosa was ready to style it, she said, "What I want to do with your hair is make it look sort of like you did when you came in this morning." My jaw dropped. "You know," she said, "sort of windblown and casual." She did and it was neat, though by tonight its lost all its volume and just looks messy again!
Our boss, the dean of the library, took my office (all three of us) for an "appreciation" lunch today at Joe T.'s (for those who don't know, it's a landmark Mexican restaurant in Fort Worth where you can sit on a gorgeous, lushly planted and very large patio). We were early enough to avoid a line and get a table in the shade--a double win--and enjoy a lunch of the "small dinner"--nachos, enchiladas, tacos, beans and rice.
Then I rushed to the grocery store, rushed home and put away groceries and tried to straighten the house, all in preparation for Jacob's arrival at 2:30. We played together for an hour while "Mama" got her hair cut. I tried so hard to coach him to say "Mama pretty" when she came back, but no dice. He was cheerful and good company, and I enjoyed some loving time. Another of those instances, like sitting on the front porch, when I have to tell myself to take a vacation from work.
I have piddled tonight, wrapping birthday presents, emtpying garbage, checking my bank account. I was thinking that in anticipation of the arrival of the Houston Alters late tonight, I couldn't settle down and work--but I did. Made some headway on the draft of a grant application to support a series of recovered writings by women of the Southwest. Such writings, often buried in memoirs, local newspapers, letters, etc., give us real insight into the lives of women of the 19th and early 20th centuries. I think we can support that it will be a real addition to TCU's academic program in several ways, but it has to be said just so.
I'm a firm believer in letting projects stew on the back burner. The grant application narrative has been on the back burner and just began to come to the fore yesterday and today. The Scots book is still simmering.