Lost my oomph

 

Christian's porch plants

Somehow, today, I lost my oomph. Not all that unusual on a Sunday. Sometimes my body seems to say, “Nope, it’s Sunday. The day of rest. I’m not gonna do that, no matter how you nag.” And my brain follows right along. So I fiddled the day away, browsing on the net, napping, reading.

I did a couple of good things—sent off a critique to an as-yet unpublished author. She replied that she was taken aback by some of my comments, and I admit I was brutally honest. But the manuscript didn’t engage me, and I saw some clear ways to fix it. I was honest about the fact that I only read fifty pages—because I was bored, though I didn’t say that—and she of course said if I’d read further, I might have been more engaged. I replied that if most readers have to go fifty pages into a book, they just won’t do it. Ideally, you should capture the reader on the first page. I have lingering regret over the whole thing—it will teach me not to volunteer to critique. But I couldn’t see encouraging a writer about a manuscript that, in my best judgment, has no market appeal. At least, I was honest, and it’s off my desk.

And after a bit of difficulty I sent the neighborhood monthly newsletter to the designer, so that too if off my desk. But it will come right back in the form of proof tomorrow.

Jean came for supper, and Christian fixed his delicious hamburgers. I made smashed potatoes to go with them, something I’ve just learned to do. The first time I asked Christian to get tiny Yukon Gold potatoes, he got about four times the number I thought I needed. So tonight I cooked what was left. In duck fat. Jordan and Jean really like the potatoes but would like to call the fat something else. When Megan first told me she cooked these, she said she had chicken fat. I refrained from asking if it was kosher schmalz, but I don’t think the girls would like this any better. The first time I used duck fat, I thought it instantly made my tiny kitchen small like Thanksgiving. It makes terrific potatoes.

The big accomplishment of the day belongs to Christian and Jordan: tonight they pulled the electric wheelchair to the middle of my closet, located the charger, found that the chair still turned on, and plugged it in to charge overnight. My brother goes home from rehab tomorrow, so the timing is good. Now we have to get the chair from Fort Worth to Tolar and all is well. Except of course that the chair is in the middle of my closet—no way my walker and I can get in for clean clothes, laundry, etc. Zenaida comes tomorrow, and the first thing she does is start a load of my laundry in the house. Not tomorrow. I am telling myself none of it is the end of the world.

I had a hilarious conversation with Christian tonight—because I thought I was talking to Colin. Too detailed to tell all, but the voice said he would need make and model number of the wheelchair to check the battery location, and I said, “Sweetheart, I sent it to you days ago.” The voice, incredulous: “You did? I don’t remember seeing it.” When I asked when he thought he might come look at the chair (mind you, this was, in my mind, Colin who is four hours away in Tomball), he said, “Well, tonight when I come out for supper.” That was my clue I was talking to the wrong person.

The fact that they were able to charge the chair is good news/bad news. It means there is no excuse to get Colin up here to do chores, and as I freely admit I will use any excuse to get any of my children to come visit. “Want a deli sandwich from Carshon’s. Colin? I’ll buy!” But I don’t want him to drive all this way if he doesn’t need to.

One of the things that the voice said to me in that misbegotten phone call was, “I’ve been out all day planting.” Didn’t sound like Colin to me—he is more likely to spend the day building or repairing something big. But who am I to ask. It was of course Christian, and he was busy with the pots on the front porch. Christian is a pot gardener (no, not that kind!), and each year the front porch is amazing. I’m letting a couple of his photos carry the weight of this blog tonight.

Hope everyone has their oomph in place as we approach this new week, the last for most pubic school kids in Texas. Who knows what the schools

will look like in the fall, after this legislative session is over. Fingers crossed, prayers said.