Charities

I'm wearing a T-shirt tonight that says "Proud to be an American" and has a rather ferocious eagle on it. It was a gift, unsolicited, from some veterans' organization to which I'm sure I have never contributed. I think my name is on a list somewhere that says "She's a patsy. Send her something, and she'll send a contribution." The Humane Society and the SPCA pepper me with gifts all the time, and I can't keep the two straight and am not sure which ones I've contributed to, but I suspect both. I have a T-shirt with a dog and cat that says "All they need is love," and I have a coffee cup that says "Operation Rescue: Baghdad Pups," in reference to the dogs who are being rescued from Iraq and sent here--as if we didn't have enough dogs in the country already. Strangest of all, I have a coffee cup that claims I'm a sponsor of the United States Deputy Sheriffs organization. It even has my name on it, which prevented me from selling it in Jordan's recent garage sale. And address labels? I have them from TCU, the Smithsonian, the SPCA, the Humane Society and who knows what else. I am using some with cute, Christmas-y animals for my Christmas cards, which will probably drive the more conservative of my acquaintances to think I've gone over the edge. You can put your name on a national no-call list, and many web sites offer you a chance to unsubscribe--but how do I get off this sucker list? Reminds me of my dad. When he died, we discovered he was sending $5 to each of lots of charities--from aid to Africa, Methodist missions, political causes--you name it. If it was humanitarian and liberal, Dad supported it, albeit modestly as his means would allow. Maybe it's in the genes. I do give to charity, but I try to be focused about the ones I think are really important to me, especially my church, and to ignore the many solicitations that come unbidden. But those T-shirts and coffee cups are guilt-inspiring.
I needed a column for December and went in search of a Christmas book or story by a Texas writer. Didn't exactly find it but a woman wrote me that she had a couple of Christmas stories--one published in the '80s and one unpublished. Not much help, but her career interested me--she's like so many of us, writing for forty years, about 15 books of everything from mystery to romance to children's books. And yet she's relatively unknown. I think she writes becuase she loves to write and can't imagine not doing it, but she also cited insatiable curiosity and the love of a challenge. Seemed to me from her emails that we had so much in common that I suggested we were about the same age, and she said, yes, she was in the "cocktail hour of life." I love it! Hope the Dallas Morning News book editor likes the column, because I'm sure it is not what he was expecting.
I had a blessedly quiet day today. Went to work at the usual time, after having overslept which made me hurry a bit, worked all morning, met friends for lunch, went to the grocery, and came home knowing I didn't have another obligation all day long. The first two days of this week were so hectic and tomorrow promises to be that way--a big launch party in Dallas--so I'm grateful for tonight. There's a poetry reading that I really should attend, but Melinda and Susan were going, so I was very quiet about my plans to veg out at home. Made chicken salad with blue cheese dressing for supper and plan to dig into the issue of Bon Appetit that just arrived today. I'm not sure I'll get back to my mystery until after the holidays--and maybe doing nothing is better than doing it sporadically, at least for a while.