Friends, Finances, and Family

Last summer a group of 15 women met two or three times on my front porch. All writers of one sort or another, they were contributors to a TCU Press book called Grace & Gumption: Stories of Fort Worth Women. We met to hash out who would write what chapter, what women would be included in each chapter, with several women sometimes "trading" for the multitalented woman they wanted in their chapters. During these sessions, something wonderful happened--we became a small but close-knit community. Today the book is at the designer, scheduled for October publication. And tonight, all but one of the women returned to the porch for a group picture to go on the back cover. It was a brief but joyous reunion that led the photographer to say we were just great. "Everyone did their own thing," she said. "I loved it." Yep, that's us--doing our own thing. The one woman we missed was central to the project--Katie and I had talked off and on, casually, about the need for such a history for years. One day in March 2006 we invited Ruth to join us for lunch, and the idea became a reality. Katie did a yeoman's job of editing, which she and I finally described as "herding cats." She was called out of town by a death in the family, but her picture, as editor, will be on the inside jacket flap. And everyone else was there--though once again it took an effort like herding cats.
On a completely different note, as I marched toward retirement (and then retreated a great deal), I've been trying to get my legal documents and finances in order. This weekend a good friend whose avocation is managing money came to advise me. I was pleased that he thought I'd done extraordinarily well for a single mother and was well set for the future, but he pointed out a couple of areas I needed to consider. One was a stock I bought for $750 in 1956 when I was seventeen, working and not yet in college--my father told me never to touch it, and I haven't. It is today worth more than I'm sure Dad ever dreamed--and surely more than I did. But it shows signs of "volatility" and Jim said I might consider selling. Today on the phone he said, "You know, I can't really tell you what to do. I sense you have a sentimental attachment to the stock." I'd never thought about being sentimentally attached to a stock, but he was probaby right--my father told me to buy it and told me never to sell it, and I haven't. But a stock isn't warm and fuzzy--I think I can get beyond that sentimental attachment. I'm sure Dad would understand.
For some time now I've been planning a menu for the brunch we'll have aftre the grandbabies are dedicated Sunday, though it would help if I had a better idea of how many to expect. But now I've started to put out serving dishes, with little slips of paper indicating what goes in each. After all, no one is going to use the dining table before then (the family will have to eat on the porch Saturday night!). I do that routinely before a large party, and it leads Christian to say to Jordan (who does the same thing), "You and your mother have a screw loose." But, hey, it works for us.
What to do about dinner with nine adults and seven children Saturday night has been a great debate. Megan wants a patio where children can play. For various reasons, several patio restaurants are out--smokers, etc. I think the patio will end up being my front porch, and the dinner will be barbecue or Mexican. But I am looking forward to the weekend.