A busy day at the office

Honest, I think I worked harder today than when I had a “real” job. But at least I earned my keep. First on my list was proofreading the neighborhood newsletter. This time it was down to twenty pages, its normal length, but fraught with problems. The minor stuff involved mis-used italics, consistency of quote marks, and all those little errors that bother me but most readers might not notice. On the other hand, one of my neighbors is a proofreader, and she’s fussy. Then there was a historic photograph that I assumed came from a private collection. Wrong! When I investigated for a caption, I found out it came from an academic library’s special collections. So then I had to trace down permissions. I’m in the process of supplying proof that we’re nonprofit, but it has taken a lot of time.

I had a big accomplishment today too. Spoke, via Zoom, to a small book group. A friend and her four cousins have formed this remote group. Several are members of the Daughters of the Texas Revolution, and they read mostly Texas history. They just read The Second Battle of the Alamo. She asked, and I said I’d be glad to do meet with the ladies..

Not as easily done as said. First of all, I put make-up on for the first time in three and a half months. It did no good, because I was horrified when I saw all the wrinkles that showed up onscreen. Of course, I was looking at an in-the-face large version of me, but all the others saw was a tiny thumbnail. And since I usually work at my desk in whatever I slept in until mid-afternoon, this required that I “dress for the occasion.” So I had on a tangerine-colored top—but if you could have seen the bottom, you’d have seen lilac shorts (one of those color combinations that could be great or awful—I fear it was the latter). I assured myself no one would see. Wrong again! After the meeting started, I realized I forgot my hearing aids. Had to get up and go get them. Fortunately, I hope no one noticed since the pictures are so small and the camera mostly aims above the waist.

Of course, we were all amateurs at this remote meeting business. At first the woman in charge tried to get us together via Google Meet. Nobody, not a one, could get online. So then we went to Zoom. I’m almost pretty good at that—knew where to click to turn on audio and video. But when free Zoom decides you’ve used your time, they cut you off without warning—in mid-sentence. My friend said they were going to restart a separate meeting but after about ten minutes, she said they all gave up.

Still for the half hour or whatever it was, it was interesting and a fun challenge for me to answer their questions about Adina de Zavala and Clara Driscoll and what responsibility the Daughters of the Republic of Texas bear for the deterioration of the chapel and how the Alamo ended up in George P. Bush’s hands. And now I feel more confident about Zoom meetings. I filled out a speaker’s form for the FW Women’s Club today and indicated that I am not speaking to groups but would be glad to do a remote meeting. Courageous, that’s me!

After all that, it was lovely to sit on the patio with neighbors, sip wine, and talk about nothing much—until a fly decided to swim in my wine, and I had to throw it out. Still we had a good visit—thanks to Greg and Jaimie Smith for giving me a bit of human companionship and to Jay Mitiguy for scanning documents for me and then joining us on the patio. Greg kindly brought packages from the porch and moved the bougainvillea under the roof overhang in anticipation of the severe storms predicted for tonight.

I capped the evening off by repeating last night’s dinner—a salmon croquette (honest, I like them better cold than hot) and a zucchini casserole (yes, I heated that). So good. I could have eaten the extra croquette and bit of zucchini, but I restrained myself.

North Texas people, please stay safe if we do get those storms tonight.

Thunder, lightning, and rain!

The weatherman said 40% chance of showers this afternoon, but I’ve lost all faith in him. As Christian says, when the TV says pop-up showers, they never pop up at our house. But about two o’clock, we had light rain and distant thunder that I found encouraging. Sure enough, soon this incredible thunder boomed, the kind that sounds like fireworks going off right in front of you and then is followed by silence and stillness so profound that you think the storm has sucked all the air out of the atmosphere. It makes you hold breath. Good heavy rain followed.

Sophie was a pain all morning. Our sprinklers had gone off, plus I suspected maybe a light rain, and I didn’t want her running hither and yon chasing squirrels and then bringing all the mud from the outdoors inside. But she was desperate to go outside, jumping up on the couch (no, I’m not a good disciplinarian) where she could look out one window at the squirrels and another at the chickens. I finally let her out thinking she would want to relieve herself before I went to lunch. Nope, she wanted to chase squirrels. Mary, who came to go to lunch with me, gamely went out into the yard waving a piece of Velveeta and calling Sophie. It probably took ten minutes to entice her into the house. I hated to reward bad behavior, but we had waved that cheese in front of her. She looked stunned with disappointment when we told her goodbye and left.

Mary took me to an early birthday lunch since she’ll be away when we celebrate. We both like Swiss Pastry Bakery because we like sausage and kraut—we do share German heritage. Delicious as always, though filling. I came home with potato salad and kraut and will probably have that with some salami for supper. The outing gave me yet another chance to drive my car.

None of the local critters enjoyed the storms. I looked at the chickens this afternoon, and they were all four perched on the crossbar in their pen, as though they didn’t want to get their feet in that mud. Didn’t know chickens were that finicky.

Tonight, after all that unsuccessful fiddling with Skype, I talked to a book club of teachers in Henderson, Texas via Facetime. We chatted for just under thirty minutes, and I think it went well. I just put aside m conviction that Facetime makes me look like an old hag. I tried to hold the phone as high as I could, as I’ve watched Jordan do with selfies, but that gets tiring. Pretty soon I quit worrying about my looks and enjoyed the conversation. I was pleased that some of them had read other books of mine than the one they read together. We chatted a bit about writing historical fiction and about everything from Chicago to my grandchildren. Readlly fun. I’d like to do more of that.

And here comes the weekend!

A lovely busy day

Looking toward the open kitchen at Fixe

Photo by Sean Green

Today was an extraordinarily busy day for me, with a blend of old and new experiences. Began the day with a haircut. Rosa, who has done my hair for at least fifteen years, comes by the house because I can’t drive. I’m sure she’ll be as relieved as I will when I get my car back, but meantime she has my undying gratitude. We have good visits while she snips and trims.

Went to lunch at a friend’s apartment. She and two other women have their own book club, and they just read my historical novel, The Gilded Cage. So I went to talk to them about the novel, but one of the women had to cancel. The three of us talked about the book and a lot about Chicago. The other woman had also grown up in Chicago, so we had lots to share. Nancy fixed a terrific lunch and had festooned her apartment with hearts. I even came home with a small, heart-shaped box of chocolate. Happy Valentines Day, a bit early.

In the late afternoon, Tracy Hull, associate dean of the TCU Libraries, came by for a visit and a glass of wine. Turns out she not only wanted to take me up on my invitation to visit, she wanted to see the cottage because she is passionately interested in tiny houses. She said many nice things about the cottage but our visit ranged far and wide over a lot of topics and was lots of fun, lots of laughter.

And the really new experience—friends Phil and Subie took me to a new restaurant at the Shops at Clearfork. Turns out tonight was only the second night Fixe was open, so we were treated like royalty. I want to say the restaurant is starkly modern, with the open concept kitchen—but it’s not. The idea behind the food is a southern-style family supper, so the dining space is partitioned to look like a screened-in-porch. But it’s not at all folksy—it’s clean and smooth. Large, heavy and very comfortable leather chairs are almost incongruous, as is the extensive collection of varied china plates that decorates one wall. The idea is that you order a variety of small plates and share. We had the most wonderful biscuits I’ve ever eaten--the owner (at least I guess that’s who he was) said they’re triple fried, but no, no calories. Then deviled eggs, some of the best I’ve eaten; fried chicken; lobster and crawfish pot pie; chilled green bean salad. Every dish was delicious.

The wine list is extensive, but so is the ice tea list, and they brew all their own. Subie had the green tea, but the list of choices was interesting—flavors such as hibiscus. Tea comes in a container they set on a carafe of ice and the tea is released into the carafe. At least once during the meal, they refreshed the tea by pouring it into a fresh carafe of ice. Those little golden touches. I went to the restroom and missed the hot towels. A lovely dining experience and fun to be on the cutting edge with a new restaurant.

I’m one pooped person tonight. For someone who generally spends her days at the computer, that was a busy day. Not much work done at all, but who cares? A lovely day.

A couch potato, a working author...and a spiritual book

Martin Luther King Day, and I’m a bit ashamed that I didn’t do community service today. But I did do family service. Since there was no school, Jacob was here all day. Last night, he and his dad came for supper—yummm! Pork chops in a cream/Dijon/bourbon sauce with sautéed apples (which Christian didn’t like) and onions. Jacob hugged me goodnight, and his dad asked if he didn’t want to spend the night. I pointed out he could sleep late (if he went home, he’d have to get up early to come here) and have waffles for breakfast. Instant reply: “Bye, Dad.” He did sleep until slightly after nine, got up demanding, “Can I have my breakfast?” and spent the morning watching TV (another cause of guilt on my part—but I got so much done while he was content).

We went out for lunch to meet a former student of mine, Jacob grousing all the way. He didn’t want to eat with an old lady (I explained she was his mom’s age), he wanted to eat at the Grill. But my friend Heather entranced him telling about the homeless man whose story she is writing and talking football with him. When we got in the car, he said, “That was pretty much fun.”

So we had a distant but good day—I got a lot of work done, and he watched TV. Maybe every once in a while it’s okay to just let him chill and be a couch potato. It was a beautiful day, and he should have been out playing—but with no playmates, what fun is that?

Tonight I went to the church women’s book club discussion of God’s Hotel, a book I am more and more impressed with for what it teaches about holistic medicine, what the author calls “Slow medicine” as opposed to “efficient modern health care.” You watch the author grow spiritually and as a healer during the book—she learns to sit by a patient’s bedside, quietly, for long periods of time, trying to determine what comes between that patient and health; she sees a patient hover, with one foot crossing over and the other still in this world—and then choose to live. It’s a remarkable look at spiritual healing. We agreed working in those conditions, with the indigent, homeless, often mentally ill patient population isn’t for everyone in the healing professions, but for this woman physician, it became her passion. And what she learned along the way is remarkable.

The book is also a good look at what bureaucracy does to medicine—and we drew the parallel to what bureaucracy does to education. People who have never stood before a classroom make dramatic decisions, just as people who’ve never treated a patient build new hospitals (without storage for wheelchairs) and make decisions about patient care. If you have any interest in medicine or spiritual journeys or the concepts of community and charity, I urge you to read this book.