The holiday season

I thought I'd post a couple more Thanksgiving pictures, since they were all such fun. One is what a hayride looks like with everyone piled on the flatbed, another is just a funny one of Jacob. I may post one of each branch of my family over the next few days.

Bone-weary is how I'd describe myself tonight. Our TCU Press Annual Autograph Party was tonight--I suspect we had 150 people at the Botanic Garden to buy books and hear a program where Jeff Guinn, famed for his "Evening with" programs, interviewed his friend and our author Michael Barson about his new book, True West: An Illustrated Guide to the Heyday of the Western. About 15 other authors were also there to sign their books. Book sales were brisk, I'm told, and the bookstore provided scrumptious trays of cheese and fruit; we provided wine. Everyone had a good time, even authors who didn't sign many books. For me it's about two hours on my feet, and my feet hurt when I got home--those same black shoes again! But it's also a time to greet lots of people I know and some I don't', like the lady who came up to me and said, "I'm a real fan of yours!" Made my day! I do know the authors, and each of them was someone I was glad to see again. Everyone went away in a happy mood--a bit of early Christmas cheer.

So tomorrow I'll get up and prepare for my annual Christmas party--the freezer is full of cookies and cake, which I'll take out tonight; last night I put the cheeseball and sausage balls in the fridge to defrost; the wine is bought; the dips are in the fridge, with only one easy one to put together at the last minute. I think I have everything under control so I can be semi-lazy tomorrow, make sure bathrooms are clean and all that. The party is extraordinarily early--5 p.m., which I did so folks could go on to other parties. Seems like half the people I invited can't come, but no problem--we'll have a good time and more chance to visit. Then the pressure is off, though I still have packages to wrap and so on.

I read an interesting line today in a manuscript I'm evaluating, written by a woman who recently retired. She viewed retirement as answering the question, "Who am I if I'm not working?" It's the question that haunts me. Sure I'll tell you that being a mom and grandmom are my most important roles, but I don't think it would be fair to the children and grandchildren involved to rely on them to define my life. And I like my work (most of the time--and especially times like tonight), so I continue to work. I have this vague fear that the first day of retirement I would wake up and thinkg, "Omigosh, what am I going to do today?" I'm getting better at piddling, but I sure haven't mastered it yet. Nope, bone-weary or not, I'm not ready for retirement.