My first "outrageous cozy."
It didn’t
start well, but it started early. By two o’clock this morning, I had been in
bed maybe two hours and was sleeping soundly. Sophie woke me, clicking her
nails on the wood floor and doing the dance she does when she needs to go
outside. As I let her out, I lectured her on coming right back in—but she never
does. While I waited, I booted the computer and checked something that had been
on my mind. Then I sat in the doorway, hoping she’d come to me.
Instead,
Christian appeared. After we both said, “What are you doing up at this hour,”
we straightened out that I was up because Sophie was out, and he was up because
he heard Sophie’s distinctive bark and thought something was wrong if she was
out at two o’clock. Then he looked out the window, saw me at my computer, and
thought that was definitely wrong. He brought Soph inside, and we all went back
to our beds.
Only
Sophie was desperate to go out again at four o’clock, five-twenty, and
six-thirty. One time I watched to see if she really had a problem—and she did.
She tried hard to throw up. Another time, knowing she gets out and won’t come
to me, I put her on her leash and sat in the doorway holding the leash. Of
course, she just stood there looking bewildered.
After
the six-thirty adventure, we both slept until almost nine. But she is clearly
not feeling well. She's turned down both turkey and Velveeta, the things I use to
sneak a Benadryl into her. Although she’s not snuffling as much as sometimes, I
think it must be her allergies. She’s been eating grass for a couple of days
and hasn’t eaten her food. Guess who’s calling the vet in the morning. And
meanwhile hoping for a good sleep tonight.
With a
late start, I was just a bit “off” all day. Wrote almost a thousand words, but
they weren’t my best words, did odds and ends, put on my activist hat in a couple
of instances—truth is I can’t tell you exactly what I did with the day.
Jordan came out to have a companionable glass of wine while we watched the evening news. Christian was in Dallas at a get-together of his high school friends, and she was going out to a business dinner. We talked about what Jacob would eat since he would not have the tuna casserole I was fixing for myself. With homemade chicken broth and white wine and topped with crushed potato chips, it was so good I ate too much. As I was cooking, Jacob came in trying for casual and said, “Hey, what are you doing for dinner tonight?” When I said I had already offered to share my tuna, he laughed and shook his head. Pretty soon he was back, asking nicely if he could have my credit card to order a hamburger. He came in a minute ago, handed me the card, and announced he had ordered McDonald’s. I told him he’s a real class act.
The
good news is that surgeons were able to align grandson Kegan’s broken leg
today, under anesthesia, cast it, and secure it with pins. No surgery necessary—surgery
is difficult in a fifteen-year-old because the insertion of a rod would mess
with the growth plate. So Kegan is lucky, and we are all relieved. In hospital
pictures, he’s got kind of a wry smile but at least it’s a smile.
And
last night out of the blue I had a chatty call from my oldest grandchild—Maddie,
in Denver. She’s working at an Apple genius bar and preparing for nursing
school which she will start in June and which preparation is more complicated
than I realized. She called just to say hello and check in. Be still my heart!
So now
I’m going to tackle a few more words on that mystery. If they’re not my best words,
at least they are something on paper, and I can change, edit, etc. later. I am
calling the Irene in Chicago culinary novels “outrageous cozies.” Want to
read my thoughts on this sub-genre I may have named if not invented? I talked
about it on a guest blog today. Here’s a link: https://saraheglenn.blogspot.com/.../judy-alter...
Sweet
dreams, y’all!
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