Old Friends

I am blessed with more friends than most people, I think, and yet I miss them when one or two drop away, even temporarily. Today two dear friends resurfaced, and I was delighted. Sheila is in Boulder, where she and husband H.G. spend most of their time to be near grandchildren. She is usually an active emailer but had been silent for weeks, and I was worried. Last night I sent another short message, just saying I missed hearing from her. Nice long email this morning, and we are, I hope, back in touch.
Jeannie has been buried with rennovating her youngest son's house, seeing her husband through some scary medical procedures (thank goodness he seems fine), and, for the last three weeks, doing contract work for graduate orientation at TCU's School of Business--that meant 12-14 hour days. But we had lunch today, caught up, and are, I hope, back in the rhythm of friendship.
A nice note: both had been keeping up with me through the blog.
Last night I had dinner with another good friend. Betty and I eat out more Wednesday evenings than not, and we have our favorite places. But last night we were boldly adventuresome and went to a new restaurant. It was "trendy," with metal furniture--chairs so lightweight that when the wait staff bumped into them, which seemed to happen often, they made a terrific crash. The people were also trendy--which means, in Fort Worth, young West Side residents with plenty of money (they'd need it to eat there!). I had an absolutely marvelous appetizer--one large seared scallop topped with crispy foie gras and sitting on a bed of pureed cauliflower (okay the cauliflower didn't do much for me) and for dessert a Texas peach, sweet cream marscapone and blueberry Napoleon--plus wine. Our waitress, however, was condescending, writing us off I think because we were middle-aged (or more) women alone and didn't order entrees (we never do--appetizers or split plates are our style). We got the last laugh though. I thought last night the bill was surprisingly low and figured out this morning that she didn't charge us for the wine--two glasses each. Moral dilemma: would I have told her if I figured it out last night? If she had been genuinely friendly and concerned about us, absolutely--my children all waited tables, and I know the difficulties. But as it was--I don't know. I'm sure not going to call the next day!
Meantime, the mystery has been languishing--a major signing party for a TCU Press title one night, dinner with Betty another, and Dead Wrong, the J. A. Jance new book to finish--I had gotten to the really absorbing last part of the novel. But I read an author who said that when an author carries a novel in his or her head and "sees" the scene, that's the time to write. And that's what I haven't been doing--carrying it in my head. Oh, I've had scattered ideas here and there, even written them down, but the whole novel hasn't been playing itself in my head. I'll get back to it tonight.