Weather, podcasts, voting, and oh my goodness!

 

Doesn't look quite this bad this time--

but just wait

My first instinct is to say this was an average day, with not much going on in my little world. But in retrospect that is so wrong. The weather is the lead story, as far as I’m concerned. Have you ever been so cold? I shiver inside my well-heated cottage and worry about the people of Ukraine. It’s a demoralizing gray outside, and though it’s been cold all day and there’s a bit of ice, I understand it is to get worse tonight. It’s not only when they cancel school a day ahead, but when they cancel garbage pickup, you know you’re in trouble.

In this weather with icy roads, old friends from San Angelo arrived in the Metroplex, here for a meeting. Preston and Harriet Lewis came by for a visit this afternoon, and I was almost surprised to see them. I had thought they would change their minds about traveling, but they are brave. Preston said he was only worried about other drivers—a good caution in North Texas. I probably haven’t seen this couple for twenty-five years, but we were once all active in Western Writers of America (Preston and I are both past presidents). We had a high old time talking about people we knew back when, although sadly several are no longer with us. Still, we laughed a lot, and it was a good visit. Our friendship is also a great example of renewing old ties through Facebook, because that’s what we did. Preston has written some terrific westerns, including comic ones. And he told me today he is the world’s expert on cats on the western frontier. I told him everyone needs a niche.

The other highlight of my day was that a gentleman named Dean Jones interviewed me for his podcast, “The Well-Seasoned Librarian.” As a librarian, he is of course interested in books, but he is particularly interested in the food angle, so we had lots to talk about. I got all gussied up—clean hair, makeup, a good sweater—because the link was to Zoom, and I thought it would have video as well as audio. Not so. I could see him, but I couldn’t tell if he could see me or not. He asked great questions, and I had a chance to talk about everything from the transition from Chicago to Texas to retirement and my conviction that one retires from a job but never from writing. Dean promises a link when it’s up, and I will share that, should anyone be interested.

Moving on to voter suppression. It took me three, determined tries to get a mail-in ballot. Today I was told that my ballot was incomplete, and for it to count I must go in person to the voter registration office. When I explained that I am mobility challenged and don’t drive, they best they could offer was curbside service. (I worked hard to let the nice lady on the other end of the phone know that I was angry but not at her, and I hoped she had a pleasant day.) The hitch is a new requirement that you put either your DL number or the last four digits of your social security number on the outside of the envelope. The voice on the telephone assured me that when you seal the flap the information is hidden from public view. The problem is that the requirement is apparently in tiny print amidst all the print on those envelopes, and those of us who have filed by mail for years simply didn’t look at it. There has been no public campaign to alert voters. Wouldn’t you think if government—in this case Texas state government—wanted to encourage the vote they would mount a campaign about all the changes in ballot requirements? Instead they’ve snuck them in, in small type, and alerted no one. I only heard about it, after I mailed the ballot, on Facebook. Can you spell voter suppression? I have again talked to the independent newspaper that tells me they are still working on an article. And just for the record, I will register a complaint with the Texas secretary of state.

In other state news, Governor Abbott is practicing medicine again without a license. Wonder where he got his medical education? First he exercised his vast medical expertise (and apparent moral superiority) with a series of orders to physicians caring for women that absolute ignored the physical and mental consequences of exceptional pregnancies. Now he has ordered physicians to report to the department of child protective services (or whatever its proper name is) any case where parents are providing transgender healthcare to their children. It is, he says from on high, child abuse. His edict is awfully close to invasion of privacy. And he is more than ever a mean little man who seems to think he is a dictator.

A bright note on this wintry night: Christian made wonderful tortilla soup, and Jordan made chocolate chip cookies. When the going gets tough, you can count on Jordan for chocolate chip cookies. I’m so blessed.

A Warm and Wonderful Reunion

Life is funny. Friends come and go in your life. I read somewhere—maybe Anne Lamott—that when a friend disappears from your life it’s because their part in your life story is done. I had a wonderful brunch today with three friends whose part in my life story is definitely not over, much to my joy.

Gayla Christiansen, marketing manager at Texas A&M University Press, Frank Vick, former director of UNT Press, author, past president of Texas State Historical and Texas Institute of Letters, and Fran’s daughter, Karen, were in Fort Worth for a meeting yesterday, came to see my cottage and take me to brunch.

When I was at TCU Press, I was in almost daily contact with Fran and Gayla. They were my “go to” people in publishing, and when I turned seventy they presented me with a certificate about the three world-problem-solving publishing women of Texas. Retirement and life in general has taken us in different directions, though we are sporadically in touch.

Today, over a marvelous lunch of eggs Benedict and roast brisket hash, we picked right up where we left off—catching up with publishing, health, gossip, families, you name it. We lingered over a long brunch—well over two hours. And we’d still be there probably if Gayla, our hostess, hadn’t announced she needed to head for College Station.

I came home on wings of air, much buoyed up to still be a part of the Texas publishing scene. The rest of my day has been a lazy Saturday. Spent much of the afternoon exploring Scotland—how I wish it was in person, but, alas, it was on the internet. Found I had sent a “blatant self-promotion” article to my clan newsletter, The MacBean Clan Register (after all, if you don’t toot your own horn, who will?). In the early early stages of exploring the possibility of a novel set in Scotland. Of course, I’m sure it would require in-person research.

I’ve set myself a goal tonight of finishing a book I’m reading for evaluation for an organization I belong to, so I’m off to bury my nose in the book.

Good luck pajamas—and a lovely evening

Do you have a good luck piece of clothing? I’ve decided my pajamas are mine. (No, no picture.) They’re cotton, long-sleeved, plain-Jane pajamas except that they have books all over them. I remember how proud my brother was when he and my sister-in-law found them. I don’t sleep in them because I get too hot—sleep in a T-shirt and panties (TMI?) but take the pajamas off last thing and put them on first thing in the morning. Jordan washes, dries and returns all in one day so they are my only jammies.

Some days I never get out of my pajamas until late afternoon. If I’m not going out and no one is coming over, why bother? Those are the days, like today, that I get a tremendous amount done. I’ve decided there’s a connection between the pajamas and the amount of work I get done. I may get downright superstitious about this.

Today, I deviled eggs, made tuna salad, all in my jammies, and then got to my desk where I dealt with emails, edited two chapters of a novel, and made copious notes and even an opening page on a memoir I may or may not write. Plus read the novel I’m in the midst of. It was a good day’s work.

Tonight, old friends from TCU came for happy hour. I’ve known Dick for at least twenty-six or seven years, lunched with him frequently, known his wife Kristi less well but enjoy her thoroughly. It was a pleasure to have them on my patio tonight. Jordan knows them but they had not met Christian. It was an instant match with lots to talk about.  I made an antipasto platter—deviled eggs, cheese, salami, asparagus, carrots, and cherry tomatoes, plus a tuna dip and hummus. It almost all disappeared.

We’re under a storm watch tonight There are apparently severe storms to the north of us and tornados possible in our area. The air feels heavy, but before the sun went down the sky didn’t look particularly threatening. We were glad to sit on the patio with a watchful eye on the sky. Now, Jordan has taken all the blooming plants inside for protection. A good rain would be welcome; a pounding, blowing storm, not so much.

Stay safe if you’re in the storms’ path.