That kind of a Sunday

It was that kind of a Sunday

Sophie’s pose illustrates perfectly how I felt about today—it was that kind of Sunday. Once again, it took me a while to get going, though I did get my hair washed so as to be ready for church. But Christian pleaded exhaustion, and I went to church on the computer. Apparently, the national habit of turning everything into a designated holiday has reached the churches. Today was Higher Education Sunday, a special day I don’t remember ever hearing of before. But the sermon hit home with me—it was about how TCU and my church, University Christian, need and support each other. The community formed by those two institutions has been the center of my adult public life, and I was glad to hear the relationship affirmed, in spite of past occasions when the two took separate paths.

I would much prefer to be physically in church, but when that isn’t possible, I am grateful for the live streaming. Today neither the audio nor the video cut out, which happens too frequently and is so frustrating. The music, of course, is not as grand and glorious, but I still get a sense of a part of the week set aside for worship and inspiration.

Once the early service was over, I alternated between baking oatmeal/raisin cookies and a chicken casserole for supper. Not sure the casserole was a hit—personally I thought it needed salt, which is easily added. But I didn’t taste the wine/herb base I used. It’s a technique I used to do all the time with leftover turkey. Somehow it wasn’t quite the same. Jordan’s blue cheese salad was good.

Finished a cozy mystery that I really enjoyed—By Book or by Crook, a Lighthouse Library Mystery—and started an Alexander McCall Smith title, The Second Worst Restaurant in France. Despite the great popularity of his #1 Ladies Detective Agency Series, I never could hook into those books and so have not been among Smith’s legion of fans, which always gives me the feeling I’m missing something. But I liked the title of this one, and novels about food always draw me in. Not far enough in yet to have an opinion.

Still basking in the loveliness of last night’s birthday dinner. Sue took this picture of Jordan, Christian, and me. As usual, they photograph wonderfully—I think that was a gene I missed, but this is a better picture of me than many. My dear late friend Bobbie used to tell me she didn’t know why or what it was but I really never did look good in pictures—Megan always said, “Bobbie tells it like it is.” And my mother told me that her father once said she took such a poor picture that the only place he’d hang it was in the barn. I think Mom passed that gene on to me.

Hard freeze tonight, but who needs a greenhouse? I have a shower stall.

Winter at last…or is it?

December 7, 2017

Predictably all us Texans who complained about 80^o in December were moaning today about how cold it was and how cold it’s going to be tonight. The temperature wasn’t bad today—in the 40s—but the wind was fierce. I had an appt. in west Fort Worth and Jordan remarked it was colder there than at home. Of course it is—the wind blows more freely the farther west you go and the farther away from tall buildings.

My neighbor Jay (you remember, the handsome one) came to look at the new ground cover tonight (he approved! Whew!) and his wife called from the stables where she rides to warn about taking in the plants. He told her it would be 27 for two hours—not long enough to freeze plants but she wasn’t convinced. He also told her it would be colder at the stables because she was in the country without concrete and tall buildings to hold the heat. She still wasn’t convinced, He left muttering about marital discord—or was it accord?

The ground cover is in and looks great. They covered some areas I didn’t know they would, and we may have to put other things over a bit, but I am pleased. The landscape company did a good job, prepared the soil (took out several wheelbarrows full of rocks), tilled it, spread potting soil of some sort, and mulched thoroughly. They assure me the plants will be fine with tonight’s short freeze. And, hey, by Sunday or Monday it will be in the sixties again.

Writing lesson: if it bores you when you’re writing, it will bore readers. I was slogging around today, when I suddenly decided to discard close to 500 words and substitute action for conversation. Magic! The words flowed, and I wrote quickly, took a nap, and wrote more for daily total of about 1300 words, not counting what I pulled out. I saved those for possible later use, though I doubt it. Good feeling.

I’m also making good progress on the book I am reading to evaluate for a contest, so I’m feeling sort of smug tonight. May sneak in a bit of a novel tonight. Jacob has just finished his required 30 minutes of reading which to my delight he does in the cottage. Tonight, he was quite enthusiastic about the book he’s reading—about a young boy in love with baseball who loses a hand in an industrial accident and is learning sports again. Jacob says when his parents tell him to read, he groans inwardly, but then when he’s reading, he really likes it. I’m going to work on that. Question is how to pick books that are not necessarily what I’d like but what he’ll like.

Perfect night to curl up with a book. Stay warm, y’all!