Travelin' Jack is Back

Last week I wrote about the little black kitten that showed up briefly in my driveway and then settled himself on neighbor Susan's porch. Elizabeth bought cat food, and the two of them fed him--he was really skinny and ate voraciously, so we all thought he'd stick around, grow to be a rat repeller without ultrasonic sounds. The next day he disappeared. Susan worried about him, and I feared a predator had gotten him. Elizabeth said she was sure he'd come back. In absentia, Susan named him Travelin' Jack.
Today the music teacher at the school across the street put a notice on the neighborhood email that she'd found a lively, sweet, mischievous black kitten. Susan and Elizabeth rushed over to see her, and she delivered the kitten to Susan tonight. She'll keep him in the basement, visiting often, for a few days to encourage him to stick around. Elizabeth went over and said he curled right up on her lap and went to sleep.
We need a good varmint repeller---the predators (owls and hawks, some coyotes) that everyone sees are in the south end of the neighborhood and never seem to make it up to our area. Jaimie and Greg at the end of our long block are overrun with feral cats--but they too avoid us.
Other than it was a blah day. Do you ever have a day when you feel just "off"? That was me today. Don't know if it is the heat or fatigue (I woke at 4:40 and couldn't go back to sleep) or what. Still I managed to write 2,300 words--a respectable accomplishment for a day. Jacob was wild after school--second grade has released a flood of adrenaline apparently, plus he's overjoyed that he has no home work all week! Cancelled dinner plans didn't help my outlook, but I had a half of a pimiento sandwich, sliced cucumbers, and the best plumcot I've ever eaten--so ripe and sweet. Finished the day with wine on the deck with Susan and Elizabeth--nice ending to a blah day.
OK, pity party over. Tomorrow will be a better day.

What a day!

And the day is only half over. I've had the blahs the last couple of days--accompanied by a stuffy nose that made me think okay, I wasn't being blah, I have a cold. But that's sort of negative thinking. And to my mind, one way to get over the blahs, is to get a lot of things done, especially things you don't want to do. Now this may not sound like a big deal to many of you, but here's my list: go to the cleaners, drop off used clothing at the Women's Center used clothing store (all those curtains that I replaced with plantation blinds plus a whole bag of shoes that now kill my hammer toe and gnarly old feet), turn on the front porch hose since no freeze is coming for a while (this is not as easy as it sounds--it involves crawling under the railing on the porch steps to get to the spigot; getting there is not bad, getting up is a lot harder, in spite of all that "core strength" Elizbeth says I have). But the biggie--taking Scooby to the vet (twice) wreaked havoc on the back seat of my car. I took it to the car wash Saturday, and they didn't touch the back seat. So today as soon as I got home about noon, I put the top down, put on old clothes, and climbed in and scrubbed. Took two washings and still isn't perfect, but when I went to put the top up, it wouldn't go. I've had this problem before--it doesn't quite go all the way down, so naturally it won't go all the way back up. So tomorrow I'm headed for Volkswagen service as early as possible.
I fixed myself creamed tuna for lunch--one of my comfort foods, and then, settled at my desk, I called Dell support because the screen on my laptop is dark. The external monitor works fine, and I can carry on, but that dark screen makes me nervous. Every time I waken the computer, I'm afraid it won't wake up. Brandon is off skiing and no help, so I tried the online rememdies--didn't work. Then I called the support number where they told me that my computer is out of warranty but they could help me for a fee. I spent a long time on the phone with a woman whose first language is definitely not English--comined with my hearing that's sort of a recipe for disaster. And guess what? The laptop screen is still dark. I think she told me that the screen was dark because the picture is going to the external monitor, but I tried gently to remind her that it hasn't been that way for four years. I hope it all works until late March when I'll be in Austin and can ask Brandon to look at it.
I've been piddling ever since. I think I'll have a nap and see if I don't get enough wind back to go to the Fat Tuesday pancake supper at church with Jean and Jim, who kindly offered to come get me. I always worry about the idea of pancakes for supper--so sweet--but they do have luscious toppings and sausage patties. Got to be home by 8 though to hear the president's speech.
I have actually been moving ahead (sometimes blindly) on my second mystery and beginning to think of what project I want to take on after I finish that. I'm not one to have six or eight unpublished mystery manuscripts in my closet. So I think I want to do something more semi-academic. But I'd also like to do more food writing. Silly to be thinking about when I'm only two-thirds through the work-in-progress.
Family story of the week: Colin took Kegan, almost two, to California to meet his grandfather. They flew out Friday and back Sunday, which is a lot of travel for a little kid in a very short time. He was apparently good up until they had to leave at 3 a.m. to come home Sunday. Then he pitched a fit because he didn't want to get in the car--he wanted the golf cart. Rest of the trip went fairly well, I guess, with a change of planes in Salt Lake City. But the last 45 minutes to an hour out of Houston, Kegan, that sweet, calm, quiet little boy, pitched a fit of unknown quality and quantity. He didn't just cry--he screamed, he kicked, he thrashed about. Colin had to clutch him to his chest so he wouldn't kick the seat in front of him, and people of course gave him dirty looks. One man asked, "Don't you have a pacifier?" Someone suggested it was his ears, and Colin said, "No, he's just done." The woman next to Colin had a two-year-old at home and was sympathetic, but Kegan topped the whole thing off by throwing up all over himself, Colin, the woman next to Colin, and the seat back in front of them. Colin, who is really an excellent father, coped as best he could, but when he got off one woman said to him, "I can't believe you're traveling alone with that child." Lisa said the Lord knew what he was doing by putting Colin there and not her--she's have had a meltdown too. Apparently, now, all is well, and Kegan is back to his sweet, charming self.

A day of blahs, writer anxiety, and the Kindle

Today was a day of blahs. Yesterday and today I woke up blowing my nose and blew and blew--well you get the picture. By noon it ws better, but I didn't have much enthusiasm for anything. And when I napped I kept waking myself up by coughing. I already had a head cold in December, so this is definitely not fair. Tonight I felt full of the blahs, but I got into revising a self-study report for the press, studying and analyzing a low stock report, and fixing my mind on other things than the blahs. Before I knew it, it was ten o'clock. And I've filled my day for tomorrow--Central Market in the morning, a yoga lesson at noon, and dinner with Charles and Mary Lu at Sapristi's. They serve mussels, which Charles loves, and tapas, which I love.
I have sent my first mystery novel off to a small publisher that asks for an exclusive--there are a few unanswered queries out there, but I figure they'll remain unanswered. So now I wait. There's been a lot on the AgentQuest listserv about the advantages of querying small presses instead of trying to hook an agent who will sell your manuscript to a big New York publisher and make you rich and famous. There are thousands of wannabees querying those agents, and your chances seem to be nil. Beside, since I'm still running a small press, this makes sense to me--more personal attention, etc. I don't every expect to hit the PW or NYT bestseller list. But having sent that first mystery off, I find I'm reluctant to go back to the second--I think I've ignored it for three months now. I think this definitely falls under the umbrella of writer anxiety--I like the first one, am not at all sure the second had the unity force, etc. This is the weekend that I'm going to go back to it--no excuses. Except that I think I'll clean closets on Sunday.Reminds me of Erma Bombeck who used to say that she would scrub floors or wash windows instead of facing that empty page in the typewriter--that was before the days of computers.
Meantime I'm reading Laura Lippman's What the Dead Know on my Kindle. Megan wrote tonight that she got a Kindle for Christmas and really likes it. I like mine a lot too. I have been buying so many papaerbacks that I don't relaly have shelf room for and yet am reluctant to discard. Kindle solves that problem--you can buy them cheaper and not take up shelf space. And if you delete them, they are stored at some mysterious Kindle digital archive, and you can always retrieve them. And yes, it's as easy to read as a regular book. I'm a convinced fan, but I wonder where they came up with the name Kindle.