Deck the halls

I spent today decorating not halls but surfaces--the mantel, two buffets, a library table, and the dining table. For years, I had a huge tree but since the year one fell over in the middle of a party, I haven't had another tree. The kids all have trees at their houses and it doesn't seem worth it to put one up in my house. If that's curmudgeon-like, I apologize. But I do like to give the house a festive spirit--at least, the living and dining rooms, the so-called public spaces of the house.
When I was a kid, decorating the tree was not the happy family affair I thought it should be--I recall the entire family going to pick out a tree. Squabbles surely followed, but we brought a home the best tree most of us could agree on. My father and brother trimmed the lower branches, put the tree in a stand (Mom was always particular about keeping lots of water in the stand), strung the lights and retired from the field, leaving Mom and me to hang decorations. One year, after John and I were grown, Mom got a flocked table tree and decorated it in pink--I remember my father was distinctly displeased. I decided when I had a home, trimming the tree would be festive, so for years I had a tree trimming party. Although gifts were not requested, many guests brought unique ornaments and I ended with a marvelous collection of ornaments, many of them Texas-themed from those who knew my interest in Texana. So now I have all those ornaments and no tree.
To me, the fireplace mantel is always focal--and always the hardest to do. Today it was the last thing I did, and I thought I'd need Jordan's help to pull it together, but tonight I did it. The main items are the tall red vase, part of the decorations from the Christmas wedding of Jordan and Christian seven years ago, and the Jim Shores Santa with its 12-days of Christmas motif. Newly added is a tiny Jim Shores angel, meant of course to hang on a tree. At the other end of the mantel and is a creche handmade in a small village in Guatemala. Making these creches has brought sustainability to the village, so I like the idea as well as the finished product.

Next on my agenda was the buffet in the living room. Every house should have a toy train at Christmas, so here's the one I put out every year.

I try to make the dining room table different every year--fairly easy because I can never remember what I did the year before. This year I decided to go with a fairly spare look--no greens except the wreath, which has four holders for tapers that are on my shopping list. The bowl was also part of the wedding decorations. And finally because Christmas should be a time of cutter and randomness, I put out a display of ornaments. This is just a portion of my large collection.

Do you dream in technicolor?

Christmas is coming! I know it because my Christmas cactus is blooming its fool head off! So beautiful.
Do you dream in technicolor? I dream in vivid color, with sound and touch sensations--I distinctly remember trying to open a door to a room that was flooded on the other side--I could feel the resistance of the water. One night I dreamt that someone brought a possum to work (yes, Susan, I fear it was you) and Melinda picked it up (no sane person picks up a possum except perhaps by the tail) to put it outside and it peed on her. Ever after, when I mention dreams, she says, "I sure did hate being peed on by that possum!" I have the usual dreams, like the exam you haven't prepared for, haven't even gone to class all semester. But I have others, like the one that I'm cleaning up a mess. Sometimes its in a kitchen (not necessarily mine) or a room in a house where the mess grows worse with everything I do; it can even be outside with pieces of paper flying everywhere. I consulted the Google dream dictionary (for what that's worth) and it says you are cleaning out your life in preparation for anothr big step forward. I rather like that interpretation. Surely it means publication, fame and fortune. On the other hand I dreamed the other night that I was newly married to my ex-husband and he moved me to a small town, but he kept disappearing. I met the ladies, who were kind to me, and I can remember working hard to learn their names, the names of their children, and where each one lived. But then I realized that they were congregating in my house every morning, and I couldn't get anything done. I felt stifled. I could probably analyze that one if I tried hard, but last night I dreamt that I was part (a minor part) of a grant-writing team working on grants to perfect space travel. Pretty astounding since grant writing is not a skill I have, and I certainly know zilch about space travel. My dreams are rarely frightening and sometimes pleasant. Sometimes I am able to inject reality into them--like that exam dream. I'll suddenly say, "Judith,  you're through with school. You have your degrees. This is just a dream." Jordan's favorite of my dreams? The time I saw the stuffed, oversized leopard, Clifford, who has a prominent place in the living room, walking around the house. "Mom," she said, "don't tell anyone about this." And then she went and told everyone she knew! Some people never remember their dreams. I'm glad I do. What about you?
Taught my last memoir class until February today. It will be nice to have a break. Otherwise, a busy day but I accomplished much. The Christmas decorations are pretty much roughed in. Fred came by with some helpful comments on my manuscript, and I plan to get back to the other manuscript tonight. So life is rolling along.

Good Reading and the lazy day that wasn't

I like to share mysteries I've enjoyed with blog readers, for those of you who like mysteries as much as I do. I just finished Jessica Rohm's Sugar Tower in which she mixes the decline of newspapers, the New York City real estate crisis, the workings of the medical examiner’s office, and one woman reporter, single at 42, hearing her biological clock and wondering if she made the wrong choices in life. Rohm adds the murder of a prominent developer’s wife, and then crafts a whopping good mystery with a lot of depth and character development. Yes, there’s an obvious allusion to Donald Trump in Barry Sugarman’s empire but Sugarman is better looking. Mach (Marchessa Jesus Piazza, whose newspaper byline reads M. Jesus Piazza) is the self-deprecating amateur sleuth who meets not only mystery but moral dilemmas as she tries to figure out who killed Annabel Trainor Sugarman and get an exclusive story for her newspaper. You know somebody in this story is smarmy but figuring out who isn’t easy, which is as it should be. A good read.
Today was supposed to be a lazy Sunday. I had the whole day ahead of me to do with as I pleased--well, almost. I guess my work ethic got to me or something, because after lingering over the paper and coffee (one can only linger so much on our much-reduced Sunday paper) I went to the grocery for one item (but did explore a new grocery store everyone raves about--it was just a nice clean grocery but not, as Sue said tonight, Central Market). Came home to ride my bicycle five miles and then start unpacking the Christmas decorations. My house is now really really messy, a work in process. Decorating for Christmas is sort of addictive--you think you'll quit for now but then it strikes you this belongs there instead of where it is, and you keep moving things around until without realizing it you've spent an hour. And it still doesn't look quite right. I usually do this Thanksgiving weekend but won't have time this year and my memoir class is having a Christmas party on the 30th. I told them not to expect decorations, but then I thought, "Why not?" So I'm working on it.
I finally quit rearranging to go to dinner at the home of my former neighbor, Sue. Her parents are in town, and I always enjoy seeing them. Good dinner, good conversation. They're Canadians, as obviously is Sue, and we discussed Prince William's engagement--Sue's father, Bob, says we Americans get a lot more excited about it than they do in Canada. Then we had a long talk about Prince Charles--they had not seen the NBC special that so impressed me, but we talked about him as an adult almost as old as we all are. A nice way to end a pleasant day, even if it wasn't lazy.

Writing Woes and a good dinner

The end of my novel-in-progress has been kicking around in my head for several days but I just haven't had an unbroken spell of time to work on it (tells you I'm not as dedicated as I should be). Today I sent Jordan, Christian and Jacob off to Smashburgers and to play in the park with the double excuse that I wanted to write and I didn't need the calories of a hamburger (all too true!). I wrote like a blue streak--1500 words in an hour, because I knew where I was going. Got right up to the climactic scene, which I haven't quite worked out in my mind. I may not work it out until I actually sit down to write it. But I realized I'd been writing with a sure knowledge of what was going to happen for some time now and hadn't thought about chapters. I checked and found my last chapter was over 8,000 words--enough for at least three chapters. So I went back to correct that but found in the process that Chapter Fourteen consists of a half of a meaningless sentence. If I ever wrote Chapter Fourteen, it's gone except for that fragment. I knew instantly one part that needs to open the chapter, but I have no clue what else may have been in it (good lesson in learning to outline by chapters). I can only reconstruct on my first edit of the complete manuscript and try to remember what action is left out. I have a vague idea, but that's it. Truly frustrating, and yet I feel quite encouraged about the manuscript tonight. How did I lose it? Who knows? Maybe a mistake in saving, maybe a mistake in putting in chapters because I'm always writing great blocks of copy and then going back to put in chapters--in truth, it may be that not much is missing, although there is an abrupt transition between the end of Chapter 13 and the beginning of Chapter 15. Somehow I feel confident I'll figure it out.
After my mad writing streak, Jacob came back to spend the afternoon while his dad went to work and his mom was busy helping a friend move. I took a nap, leaving him to watch TV. He woke me once to ask when Beth and Weldon would be here, but when I got up from my nap, he was sound asleep. Awake, he repeated the question--he wanted Beth and Weldon. He was so excited by their presence that he ended up being a bit of a brat. I thought I was quite firm with him, but they both shook their heads and said, no, I was grandmotherly.
I did fix a terrific dinner, if I do say so. Porterhouse pork chops that I had brined, then roasted and served with a pan jus of chicken and beef broth, sauteed red cabbage with just a hint of vinegar, and mashed potatoes. Beth and Weldon are gluten/ dairy free (plus she doesn't eat soy or corn) so it's hard to cook for them, and I had to leave butter out. It worked out just fine. I did add butter to the jus after they'd been served, but I honestly don't see that it made that much difference.
Bless them, they helped get the Christmas decorations out of the attic. So now I'm torn--I have the whole day tomorrow. Don't know whether to unpack the Christmas stuff or write. I think Christmas will win out since there's an early holiday event at my house just after Thanksgiving and I won't have time over the holiday weekend.
Jacob has gone home with his mom (having left his beloved "Froggie" behind--she has a backup but called to say he can tell the difference). Beth and Weldon have gone home, and I have cleaned the kitchen. The dog and cat are asleep in their respective places. What a peaceful household. I love it!

'Tis the season

Yes, it's the season when I sort of forget I'm a writer (but never forget I'm a reader) and turn my attention to the holidays. Tonight I feel very smug--my house is decorated for Christmas. That's not as big a deal as it sounds, for I haven't had a tree in several years--I'm always at somebody else's house on Christmas morning. But I decorate the mantel, the buffet in the living room, the dining table, and the coffee table in the living room, plus scatter a few things here and there. And today, I've got it done to my satisfaction. I do still need help with lights. The only strings I could find are so long that the one on the mantel twists back and forth three times, so I gave up on the much shorter buffet. I'd like to put lights and fake greens around the door this year, since I've given up on putting out those two small artificial trees--they blow over at the slightest breeze. Yes, it's a bit early to decorate--I usually do it on Thanksgiving weekend, but I'll be gone this weekend and the dog sitter will be here--I doubt she wants to decorate. Christian and Jordan got everything down from the attic Friday night, except my Jim Shores Santa Claus--so last night, with Susan standing watch, I climbed up and got it. In an e-mail tonight, Christian asked how the Santa got down from the attic. I told him I'm not as frail a flower as I seem--I just don't think it's smart to go up there when I'm alone in the house. Of course, Jordan will put finishing touches on my decorating, but she is tonight on a "fam" cruise on the new Royal Caribbean ship, The Oasis, that superhuge cruise ship. She'll be home tomorrow night. Anyone interested in a cruise? Call Jordan!
I actually did some other work today--two hours at the office, returning some oh-so-awful dried apricots, getting dog food. And tonight I made two loaves of prune bread to take to Charles (one at a time). Now I'm going to settle down with the novel I'm reading, Dead Heat--it's the first one I've seen by Felix Francis, without his father's name, but it reads just like a Dick Francis novel--and best of all, the main character is a chef. Of course he's a chef who caters events at horse tracks and grew up around racing--I don't stray far from food mysteries.

Great news, a lazy day--and cooking

Last night I hinted at good news to come, but I was out of steam and my blog post was already long. Since then I've had several emails telling me I best blog tonight and share the news, so here it is: my mystery, Skeleton in a Dead Space, will be represented by the Publish or Perish Literary Agency (coming from academia, I love the name!). The owner, Roger Williams, and I have had extensive email correspondence the last couple of days, and I will send a signed contract on Monday. I already feel that he's a good friend--he was a sales director at Bantam when my historical novel, Libbie, was published and remembers it well, says he sold thousands of copies. We know some publishing people in common, which helps. Thursday night I filled out the extensive online questionnaire which he asks for instead of a query; Friday morning my email brought an offer of representation. I was taken back by the speed (many of us spend years trying to get an agent and wait months for a reply to a query) but he said he recognized a professional he could work with (be still my heart!) and he loved the 60 pages I attached to the questionnaire. Now is that not a wonderful man? We've even gotten so far as to exchange pictures of our grandchildren. I have a good feeling about this and, as they say on Agent Quest (a subgroup of Sisters in Crime), I'm dancing, eating chocolate and drinking wine.
My horoscope today said I've been through a stressful period (not sure I realized that) and I should unwind this weekend. So I sort of did, but got up fairly early, aware that I wanted to go to the grocery store and cook. Also went to buy pansies for my planter boxes on the front porch but it was too wet and miserable to be out planting them today. Cooking went well up to a certain point--I made a cheese spread of cream cheese, smoky Gouda, smoky cheddar, paprika, drained chopped sun-dried tomatoes in oil, and mayo (and I added a bit of cayenne)--I'll make finger sandwiches of it to take to a neighbor's happy hour tomorrow. Then I made mini-muffins for my Christmas party--a sister from Agent Quest sent me a recipe that calls for one box Devils Food cake mix, 1 can pure pumpkin, and 1/2 cup mini chocolate chips--okay, I added more than that. For muffins, you bake at 350 for 18 minutes; I baked the mini ones for 10 minutes, and the one I ate was delicious! Dense and chocolatey, and you postively cannot tell the pumpkin is in there. It's a Weight Watchers recipe.
But I always get in trouble when I try to do too much at once. While I was baking the muffins, I tried to boil prunes and apricots for prune bread to take to Charles. It was his late wife's special recipe, and he loves it. But I scorched the prunes! The kitchen still smells of them (I have to empty the garbage!). So tomorrow I have to go buy more apricots and prunes (they're not cheap) and start over again with more care. I decided I needed a long nap--and had one!
After last night's caloric splurge on chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes, all smothered in cream gravy, I simply couldn't eat the half I brought home tonight. So I made tuna cakes and roasted some asparagus. Delicious and not too caloric.
Last night Christian and Jordan helped take down the Christmas decorations from the attic, so tonight I unpacked them all, made a list of what didn't get down, and began to think about it. Unpacking them about did me in, so I'll work on that tomorrow too.
Maybe it wasn't such a lazy day, but I feel a certain pressure is off because of Roger Williams and his agency! I know there's lots of work to come, but it's like someone else is driving the bus now, and I'm relieved.

Goodbye, Christmas!

Jordan, Christian and Jacob came for supper tonight--I traded them for supper if the adults would put all my Christmas bags and boxes back up in the attic--I do not like to go in the attic and don't do it at all when I'm home alone. Jacob wanted so badly to climb the pull-down ladder, but his mother remained firmly at the bottom, handing things to Christian. The staircase is right next to the bathroom, and Jacob kept pushing her toward the bathroom, telling her to "go potty." At one point she let him push her in there, and he tried to close the door on her. Christian promised him next year he could help, and Jordan told him it would soon be his chore to put up Juju's Christmas. Jacob has new shoes--the kind with lights in them--and he is delighted, stomping around the house to be sure they light up. When they left he gave me a sweet kiss and leaned into me--his version of a hug. I've noticed that several of my grandchildren don't actively hug--they passively allow you to hug them.
I fixed chicken piccata, which Christian said was delicious but I didn't feel it was my greatest--the chicken breasts were way too thick, pound as I might. And the green beans had been in the fridge long enough to be a little tough. I made a new salad dressing (a recipe published in the paper from a now-gone landmark restaurant) using blue cheese powder that I had to order online. Delicious.
What started out as a dull weekend ended up being very pleasant--Saturday I went to Central Market, where a minimal list soon grew to an over $40 purchase--easy to do there. Then I had a yoga lesson, and Elizabeth taught me two new poses--for those in the know, they are standing cat/cow and boat, both designed to strengthen abs, in keeping with my desire to lose weight and slim my genetically thick middle. Last night, Charles, Mary Lu and I went to Sapristi's, the local restaurant where he can get his beloved mussels. It was a really pleasant evening.
Last week, maybe Thursday, I followed online instructions and sent my mystery to a company that had previously asked me for anthology contributions, which I happily wrote and supplied. Saturday I got back a letter of instructions for submitting my manuscript to the submissions editor. Not sure if this means a step forward or is routine. One of the requirements is an author tip sheet, all concerned about liability. I answered no to most of the questions--quotes from books, speeches, songs, the Bible, etc.--but yes to this is a book set in a real city and mentions real places. You have to show written permission for everything but casual mention, so I did what I needed to do anyway--started going back through the manuscript. I thought maybe I'd mentioned only three restaurants, but reading I was amazed at the specific places and some brand names I'd included. In some cases I wrote around it--particularly the line where I walked about the cardboard pizza at Chucky Cheese (I said tonight if Jacob has a b'day party there, I am NOT going!). None of that is in my manuscript now. Their carefulness is a good lesson for me as an editor, and I plan to share it at the office tomorrow.
The good thing about rereading one more time, in addition to catching a few typos, is that I'm putting myself back into the world of Kelly Jones and her family and friend. You know what? I missed them!

Books, taxes, and naps

I finished the new P.D.James novel, The Private Patient, and while I know James is THE mistress of the British detective story, all I can say is it sure did end far away from where it began, although James connected it all neatly in the end. The first 40 or so pages, as I've mentioned, were devoted to exploring the character of the victim. But after she died, she became almost a minor player and we readers became enmshed in the lives of other characters. By the last third of the novel, it was fairly clear who was the murderer (although there was one other possibly credible suspect), but the way it worked out was a surprise. Would I recommend the novel? I don't know. I'm not a fan of British mysteries, and as Mary Lu said, it's not a book you can't put down. On the other hand, it wasn't a book I wanted to leave before finishing it (I have a real thing against doing that and only succumb on rare occasionas!).
I have started work on my 2008 taxes and separated everthing into categories, etc. Have done all my accounts, except my everyday checking account and, sorry, I just can't face that tonight. Another time, another day. After all, all those 1099s or whatever won't come in before the end of the month. And I've also made great progress on preparing to query a small press about my mystery--but I need some files from my office computer to do that and didn't want to go up there today.
I spent the morning finishing up taking down Christmas decorations, packaging them, etc. In the process I found tax stuff for '01, '04, '05, and '06. I can only hope '02, '03, and '07 are already in the attic where they belong. And of course I can never remember where I hid all the non-Christmas objects or where they go. Am still missing one black stoneware pitcher that has sentimental value. And I was afraid to take my grandmother's tureen down from the top of the wardrobe where I'd hidden it. Will wait for someone more sure of foot and hand to do that for me.
Charles and I had lunch at the Black-Eyed Pea--I love their veggie plates, though I think he cheated. He had baked potato (think of all the calories in the bacon and sour cream) and turnip greens, which I really don't like. I had carrots, corn, squash casserole, and green beans. I thought you had to choose five but when I hesitated over the fifth, the waitress said, "Seniors only have to order four!" I demanded indignantly how she knew I was a senior, and Charles laughed and said, "Because you are with one!" Then we went to Central Market, which always interests him though he doesn't buy anything.
And then I came home and had what I felt was a much-deserved nap. When I woke up I couldn't remember if it was Sunday morning or not and I'd just had my last sleep-in morning. Then I realized it was afternoon. I was so deliciously comfortable, with my feet wrapped around the very warm cat who was curled at the foot of the bed, that I hated to get up. But I did, fed the dog, and rode my bike. Fixed one of the dinners that makes Christian say I have odd tastes--pickled herring for appetizer, followed by braseola (the Italian beef version of prosciutto) dressed with lemon and olive oil, shaved parmesan, and watercross. Sooo good.
Which reminds me of a recipe Lisa taught me and I've been meaning to share: enchilada casserole that's the easiest I've ever heard of. For each person, take a corn tortilla and cover one side with green enchilada sauce (okay, you could use red), put it sauce side down in a casserole, top with cubed chicken, green chillies, and more enchilada sauce. Add a second tortilla, covered with more enchilada sauce and grated cheese. Bake until heated and cheese is melted. I can't eat a whole one--still have half in the fridge.
Gotta go. Sleepless in Seattle is on the TV.