Lost in Another World

For a couple of days, I've been lost in another world--the Navajo culture, specifically, because I'm reading Anne Hillerman's Spider Woman's Daughter, which picks up her father's characters of Leaphorn and Chee and carries on their stories, with Bernie Manuelito, Chee's wife, as the main character. It's one of those novels that keeps me reading, draws me away from the other things I should be doing.
All my life, I've been blessed by the ability to get lost in a book. Not all books, but that's my criterion for a good novel: I have to move so completely into that world that I am immersed and almost removed from my own daily world. I remember years ago it was the Frances Parkinson Keyes novels that first introduced me to that feeling. I dived into the world of steamboats and post-bellum New Orleans. Steamboat Gothic held me captive for a long time, since it was a longish book for a young girl.
Even before that, I remember in grade school riding to the public library on my bike every summer morning, coming home with four or five books, and spending the day reading on the front porch. The neighborhood kids thought I was nuts but they remained friendly.
Today it is mostly mysteries that drag me into their worlds. I can get lost with Diane Mott Davidson's Goldy or July Hyzy's Grace and Olivia or Deborah Crombie's Duncan Kincaid and Gemma Jones. Confession: sometimes I even got so entwined in the world of my own fictional characters that I hate to come to the end of a story. You know that rare and wonderful feeling when you hate to finish a book?
I worry about people who don't read, about how they spend their time. I read listservs by crime writers discussing TV shows and I think, "When do they have the time? Why aren't they reading instead of watching TV?" Most but not all of my children are serious readers--and that's what I'm talking about here, serious reading. Not picking up a magazine and reading an article or two, but spending hours in the world of the book.
It's a blessing. I see one of my grandsons doing it. When his cousins are playing, his nose is buried in a book, and when I gave him two Rick Riordan books for his birthday he was ecstatic. I love it. I'm trying to make a reader out of Jacob, my local grandson, but it's an uphill battle, and I don't want to push so hard I turn him from it. One day recently he began The Boxcar Kids and was enthralled. "I see why you love to read," he told me. But he hasn't brought it over since, and he wants to watch TV or play on my iPad most of the time. I'm hoping things will improve.
Meantime, blessings on all of you who can get lost in the world of a book. Excuse me, I have to go see what Bernie Manuelito is up to.

Deborah Crombie's No Mark Upon Her--some thoughts

Not much I can say about Deborah Crombie's latest novel, No Mark Upon Her, that hasn't already been said--and better. Her capture of the King's English, as the Brits speak it, is convincing and consistent. I'm no expert, but it sounds right to me and others who know more have praised it highly. In this, her sixteenth Duncan Kincid/Gemma James novel, she takes on the world of competitive rowing and captures not only its special language but the passion rowers feel for their sport and some of the ins and outs of technique. Watch for her again on the Thames--she tried rowing for research but seems so taken by it that I wouldn't be surprised to see her in a single skull.
No Mark Upon Her is also suspense at its best, intricately plotted, and just when you think you have it figured out, Crombie is one step ahead and throws a curve into things.  Duncan takes on his "guv'nor" in this one, and the reader truly wonders if he'll come out of it unscathed. Gemma meanwhile is supposed to be ignoring police matters because it's still her turn to be home with three-year-old Charlotte, the child they've adopted who still shows many fears from losing her parents. But Gemma can't ignore cases tangential to this one.
Above all, however, what draws me to read each novel in this series as soon as I can after pubication is the way Crombie pulls the reader into the lives of Duncan and Gemma and their sons, Kit and Toby, and now little Charlotte. Scotland Yard detectives become human when you watch them deal with family and child-raising issues.
Finally, there's Deborah herself who as far as I can tell has not let success go to her head, though she clearly delights in it. She makes everyone, including me, feel like a friend, and she's likeable, down-to-earth, and wryly funny.
I recommend her books a lot, and I always say start with the first in the series--they're listed on the verso of the title page. But I have a list if you want to ask. This time I say start with the latest novel. In my opinion it's her finest so far. Read No Mark Upon Her and then go back to A Share in Death. You'll enjoy watching the relationship between Duncan and Gemma grow and change and watching Crombie's increased mastery of the form--and you'll get a cracking good mystery with each read. Oh, and a nice taste of England, with a bit of Scotland thrown in. What more could one want?
I'm not one of those who feels obliged to find some flaw with each book or author, so my recommendaiton is without qualification.

A visit with family

I never blog beforehand when I'm going away. It strikes me as waving a banner that says, "Hey, my house is empty. Come on by," even though my house isn't totally empty. There are two dogs and the pet sitter is in and out. But in the last few days a few may have caught hints that I wasn't in my usual place.
I was in Houston with my oldest son, Colin, his wife, Lisa, and their two children--seven-year-old Morgan and four-and-a-half -year-old Kegan. I did all those grandmotherly things that I probably don't do enough with Jacob--I see him almost every day, and I rarely see these children. I think that made me more conscious of being an attentive grandparent. I went to gymnastics and a soccer game, and I listened to Morgan read her two short books every night. In truth I was impressed with her reading, though she has to work a bit on intonaton and expression:-) While they were at school and at work, I did a lot on my chili book, did my yoga each day, and was quite domestic--emptying and re-loading the dishwasher (the first time I emptied it and shelved unwashed dishes, so after that we had to clarify), made a pot of chili one night, two batches of brownies another day, not sure what all but one day it was noon before I got to my own work. Colin came home and asked, "You weren't bored?" and I assured him not. Colin is a controller for five golf courses and Lisa teaches 7th grade math, the children are in day care, and everyone is gone until 6:30 at night. And they're all in bed by 8:30--I had a two-hour visiting window.
These are children I don't see as much of and the little one has been really shy about hugging me--or allowing me to hug him. We broke that barrier this time, to my great joy, and both children clamored for my attention, hugged me goodnight, told me about their day. It was a delight. Lisa said tonight she thinks it's better when it's just me rather than all the family, and she's probably right. That doesn't happen often, but now I will have to make it happen more often with those children and with daughter Megan's Austin sons.

Colin took me from Kingwood--north of Houston where they live--one day to the Omni Galleria for a lunch with my former colleagues from A&M and associated presses. It was a real treat for me to see everyone and to show off my handsome son, though he expected a "luncheon" and got a box lunch. Good thing I convinced him he didn't have to wear a suit. Today, he hauled me and my baggage back down to the Omni. The baggage was much condensed because I didn't want to go into the hotel looking like the Joads had arrived. Still he took it up to the second floor, then down to the parking garage to stash in Melinda's car, and then came up to return her key and ask, "Are you okay now?" I rely on Colin, his steadfastness and his strength, a whole lot, poor boy. But I love him dearly.
Another delight of being out of my routine and element: for the first time in several weeks, I was able to pick up a book and lose myself in it. I'd saved Deborah Crombie's No Mark Upon Her for this trip, and I got a good start on it. Now, of course I don't want to do anything but read--and a few other things do call. But she is quite simply an exceptional writer. A Texan, she has the British lingo down pat, from car park for parking lot to the expletive "Sod him!" In this book, she ventures into the world of competitive rowing, with its own peculiar language and customs and does a triumphant job. I'm a great fan and love reading the book.
Now I'm back home, with dogs to feed and love, groceries to buy, errands to run, meals to cook--the whole nine yards. But I'll find time to keep reading.
And Morgan delighted me as I left today by asking, "Can we face time with you?" Of course she can, sweet thing. I'm feeling like a happy grandmother tonight.

Gardening, a book signing, and kindergarten homework--a Jacob day

This morning I promised Jacob we would do two things after school: plant a garden and go to a bookstore. He was delighted. We planted the garden right after school before we let the dogs back out--I couldn't see doing it with Sophie dancing around. The plants look wilted and sad, but they had just been rudely jolted out of their little containers. The sections of our container garden at the far end have seeds for lettuce, mesclun, and spinach. Saw this garden idea on an email that made the rounds with lots of helpful household hints. It suggested nailing gutter to your house for a container garden. The indispensible Lewis Bundock did that and drilled drainage holes in it. The only south exposure at my house is the back yard, domain of the dogs. Sophie would destroy anything I planted in the ground, but this is nicely above her notice. Jacob really got into planting, and we both made muddy messes. It will be fun to watch it grow though, and I'll enjoy the fresh greens. Too early to replenish my herb garden, trim and feed the ones that wintered over. As Greg said today, we're probably due one more cold spell. He came by and we discussed things that needed to be done in the yard and with the porch plants.
When I feed the dogs I leave Sophie in my office, with the chair pulled tight up to the desk so she won't walk on the top of the desk, sniffing out what she wants. I really thought we were past the chewing stage and recently put a nice Kilim rug back down in the office. After I fed her I found her chewing the rug--she bunches it up so she gets a nice, chewable edge. The rug has now been put away again. She also reached up on my desk--perhaps from the chair on the other side--and snatched the grocery list I thought I'd lost and a pamphlet the podiatrist gave me the other day. Guess we're not past chewing.
After dinner we went to the local Barnes & Noble where Deborah Crombie was signing No Mark Upon Her. I was delighted that when we drove up Jacob said, "Oh, I love this place." He views it  as a toy store, however, not a book store. We arrived a few minutes late and stood in the back, which was good so Jacob could wander a bit. But he kept whispering to me, "Is she almost through talking?" We finally wandered over to the children's section where he wheedled a fairly expensive Star Wars Lego watch out of me and we got a small gift for a neighbor child. Spent the rest of Deborah's talk sitting on a stool between two rows of magazines--I could hear but not see. Enjoyed what I heard, but then I'm a big fan. We've met a couple of times, have some friends in common, and share a love of dogs and concern for rescuing dogs--and we've been Facebook friends for some time. There was a good crowd and a long signing line. Jacob:"This is going to take a long time. Let's just go home." Me: "She's a friend of mine, and I want my book signed and I want to say hello." I promised him ice cream if he'd be patient. Jacob: "I don't want ice cream." A friend in front of us turned around and said, "That's the first time I ever heard a little boy say that." The line moved nicely, I got the book signed and a brief visit--Deborah was charming to Jacob who she knows from my blog. She said, "I know about you, Jacob," and the store's community relations manager standing nearby knew him from the Cooking My Way Through Life with Kids and Books--Jacob's on the cover--and said, "He's famous, er, infamous." Deborah and I talked birefly about dogs, and she gave me a nice hug. One of the better parts of the day because things get worse.
 When we walked in the front door at home, Jacob said, "Finally." I reminded him he hadn't told me he had home work until just before we left, and he had promised to do it first thing. So there we were, nine o'clock at night, struggling with kindergarten homework. We both lost our patience, and were not gentle with each other. This was one of those tricky pieces they throw at kids--we finally did the easy side first, which calmed both of us, and then Jacob said, "Let's save the hard side for morning." So that's the plan--chocolate chip waffles and homework.
 I sat down a few minutes ago and kind of sighed as I did. Jacob asked what was wrong, and I replied that I was just old and tired. Jacob: "See? I told you you're old." Long day.
So looking forward to reading No Mark Upon Her but saving it for next week when I plan to treat myself to some free time. Leisure time? What's that?

Cooking with what you have

Ever since I read Jam Today, about cooking with what you have, I've kept that thought in mind. So tonight, I pulled a delicious dinner out of my fridge. I've been enamored of the Pisces tuna Sue and I ordered, but it comes in 7-1/2 oz. cans, which makes too much for any one meal for me. One night I sauteed it in oil, added capers and anchovies and poured it over pasta; another night I added it to a tossed salad. But still almost half a can. So tonight I made tuna cakes, modeled pretty much on the way I've always made salmon croquettes but adding a bit of dill pickle relish (I'm not sure I even tasted it). But my leftover tuna made two good-sized cakes, so I enjoyed one thoroughly and saved the other for lunch tomorrow. I had a butternut squash that really should have been cooked before this,though it was fine. So I baked the halves with butter and sugar, scooped out the meat, mashed it all up with a bit more butter, and ate only a small portion. It's really low in Weight Watchers points and really high in fiber--so good for you. (Yes, I did count the butter and brown sugar). Then I had some good thin asparagus, so I roasted a few stalks of that. Voila! A meal fit for royalty. Tomorrow I must steam the rest of the asparagus every so slightly to keep it from spoiling.
Butternut squash reminds me to ask if everyone knows the trick for dealing with these hard-shelled critters. Slice around the middle--you won't get a deep cut at all, but at least break the skin. Then microwave for about three minutes. It will cut in half like a dream, and you can scoop the seeds out and get ready to bake. Also be sure to trim a bit off each base to give it something to sit evenly on in the pan.
As if that weren't enough, I made a cheese ball for my annual Christmas party and put it in the freezer. I am beginning to feel almost guilty referring people to Cooking My Way Through Life with Kids and Books (well, not too guilty),but the recipe is in there in the first chapter. It's a mix of Velveeta (those who scorn it are missing a great cooking cheese), cream cheese and blue cheese, with pecans, parsley, onions, Worcestershire and horseradish (I put a bit more of the latter in than the recipe called for, but it tasted great). Truth is, I have tasted a bit of this and a bit of that all day long, so I probably should add 2 unspecified points to my daily count--but I used them on chocolate. Even tried some salami at the deli counter at Central Market this morning.
Now I have a sink of dishes waiting for me, but I decided it was time to sit down and rest my back. Lots of reading to do tonight. Don't think I'll make my goal of two more queries and doubt I will either Saturday or Sunday. Both promise to be full days (by the time I get my nap in!) But full days in a good way.
A friend emailed from Nebraska wanting reading suggetions, so I began with the Deborah Crombie novels, also suggested Julia Spencer-Fleming, and I have a whole long list of books by members of Sisters in Crime to send her.
The good news of the day is that I have my car back! They guarantee me it will work. I picked it up around 5:30, when it was dusk and a little chilly for top down. I'll try it Monday--probably won't drive anway until then. Sue is driving us to Weatherford in the morning.

Books on my mind

I finished Necessary as Blood, the latest of Deborah Crombie's Scotland Yard mysteries, and enjoyed it as much as I have the other twelve in the series. One of the things stressed on various Sisters in Crime lists is the need to create compelling characters that the reader will care about, and Crombie has achieved that with Duncan Kincaid and Gemma James. By now, they are old friends, and I am delighted to be back in their world. The mystery itself was intricate, and I sometime want to ask her about how she plots--I'm not sure I would have been able to think of all the tangles, though the book did end with the unsavory revelation of a child prostitution ring--something some authors and some readers won't touch. It was tastefully done, but still broke your heart a bit. I find I read more critically these days--watching for the motive behind various plot turns, the reason a certain person turns up at the right time. In this book I was particularly aware that Crombie devotes pages and pages to description, something the Guppies advise against because it slows down a story. In Crombie's case, that careful description transports us to the London of Duncan and Gemma--though I would never be able to figure out the various parts of town and all the routes of the A-1 and whatever. I heard Crombie speak last Friday night, informally, to a small group, and when asked if she would ever write about Texas--her uncle was a famous Texas historian--she said no, she's too fascinated with England. Her fascination has served her well, and I can't wait for book #14, even though #13 is barely into print.
Jamie once said, "Mom writes historical fiction because she's so [adjective deleted] poor at plotting." Well, Jeannie found me the book that's the answer to that. She was in California, where her aunt had just died, sorting out the aunt's belongings and came across a book called Plotto. It was published in 1928 in Grand Rapids, Michigan, but on the endpapers is written "Bayless/1937." Jeannie is sure that was her grandmother and that the book belonged to her. The grandmother held a masters in English and was a teacher, so we surmise she may have used it in class. But it's a wonderful wealth of ideas, offering plot ideas and then various scenarios for working them out. For innstance, one plot is "Suffering an Estrangement due to Mistaken Judgment" and the only scenario offered reads, "A believes that his sweetheart, B, is dead; and B, at a distance, learns of this mistaken belief on A's part." Doesn't tell how it works out--had he married someone else? I guess you're free to let your imagination roam. Each of these cryptic entries has a number which refers to another entry--this one first refers to #49, which simply suggests thata A and B meet with a tragic misfortune but escape death. Then it refers to 162A, which suggests B is in love with A but uncertain of A's affections, and 357, which suggests that B, knowing that her sweetheart A believes her to have perished in a tragic accident discovers by secret enterprise (82a,) (87) that A has remained loyal to her (497 ch "wife" to "sweetheart"); she reveals her identity and they marry (442) (515). Lots of romance here, and following the cross references could get a bit complicated, but this book will go among my treasures. It truly is a wonderful find. My thanks to Jeannie for not pitching it in the pile to be given away and for giving me what appears to be a family heirloom. I'll treasure it all the more knowing the bacground.
Although I've been immersed in books, I haven't been ignoring food, another big part of this blog. Had a tongue sandwich yesterday for lunch--I love them, but boy do they add up the points. Last night Betty and I went, again, to Lobsterama and had the whole lobster. Strangely enough that doesn't add many points, because you don't get that much meat--but oh that claw meat is sweet and good. Sure, I dip it in butter,but I bet in the whole thing you don't actually consume two tsp. of butter. Today I had Mexican food for lunch at a place Jeannie and Jean love--I thought the tostada plate would be best--all thlettuce and tomato and none of the grease of enchiladas. But it had refried beans, taco meat, and cheese, and I ate some of the side of beans plus a small side of guacamole, and the whole thing added up--sure was good. The restaurant is in a free-standing building at the back of a broken-up driveway in one of the barrios in Fort Worth--not prepossessing at all, but it has been a Fort Worth favorite for years and years. The owner is getting older and closed because of ill health; then she re-opened, then closed to retire; a barbecue place was going in, but now she's back, though her nephew is going to take it over and serve her recipes along with barbecue. It's a neat place--lots of people don't know about it but I almost always see someone I know there. Tonight I had to counter that Mexican food so had my standby of tuna, hearts of palm and tomatoes. Now if I could only stay away from the chocolate.
A special moment tonight: Jacob wanted his jammies on very early, even though he wasn't spending the night. So when he was standing on the bed, so I could pull the bottoms up, he suddenly threw his arms around me and said, "Juju, I love you!" You can't trade for moments like that. He arrived crying, miserable, not wanting anything to do with anybody or anything. I said, "Jacob, when you're through crying, come tell me," and he sobbed, "I don't want to do that." After his parents were gone, I left him alone by the TV with his milk and pretty soon he came to the study looking for me for comfort--just stood as close to me as he could get for several minutes and then we went off to cuddle on his daybed. Ended up having a lovely evening.

A quiet, sociable day

Today I am back in gear. Spent some of the morning cooking and, for the first time in four days, rode my bicycle. One of our authors, Janis Stout, and her husband came for a late lunch, and I had fixed a layered salad and vegetable/cheese soup--she had specified a light lunch. It was good, though I was a bit disappointed in the salad and the soup both. Sent the salad home with Jordan tonight and will probably throw the rest of the soup out.
Back to Janis--we had never met, though we had corresponded over the years, recently more frequently since TCU Press is gearing up to publish her memoir This Last House. I thought it was an original idea to organize a memoir around the houses she lived in--so watch for the title this spring. We had much in common so it was fun to visit, and her husband, Loren, seems a man who likes company, conversation, and laughter. They brought me a lovely mum--I was going to put it out on the porch and then was afraid it would "walk." So I'll rearrange the dining table and put it there.
Tonight Jordan, Christian and Jacob came for dinner. Christian had thought he would work tonight, so I planned to give Jordan the soup and salad from lunch. She called this morning, from Waco, to say Christian would be joining us, so I had to do a quick run through the freezer. We ended up with hot dogs, cottage-fried potatoes, and the salad. Christian would not eat a soup with broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots in it, no matter how much cheese. Good visit, but Jacob was a little off--immersed in a catalog of Halloween costumes--and not very friendly. Off his schedule with the weekend at Baylor's homecoming.
So now the house is quiet, the dishes are done, and I'm ready to go back to the Deborah Crombie novel I'm reading.

Poisoned Press Webcon, tuna, Deborah Crombie

Today was my last stay-at-home, get rid of this cold and lethargy day, and since I felt a bit of cabin fever, I know it's over. I was supposed to go to a baby shower this morning but didn't want to take germs as a present to the mom-to-be. Today Poisoned Pen Bookstore/Press sponsored an all-day webcon on mysteries--live sessions with authors speaking, taped sessions, and print text to be read. I had signed up months ago and spent much of the morning cruising the web site. I didn't do too well with the live sessions--in one I watched the speaker talked too fast and had absolutely no camera presence. But I thoroughly enjoyed the text presentations on everything from Why Write Cozies to the Advantages and Disadvantages of Writing Historicals. There was a coffee shop discussion site, but I didn't have the right equipment on my computer for that. So the experience was a six-of-one and half-a-dozen of the other for me. This afternoon I finished the novel I was reading, napped, did a bit of office work, and was generally lazy. It was a glorious day today--warm, sunny, a perfect fall day. I know my brother thinks I spend too much time indoors, and today he was right. I should have been outside enjoying the weather. But I had given myself permission to do what I wanted today. My neighbors, Jay and Susan, walked across the street to the school carnival, and I laughed at them. When I had little children and had to go to those carnivals, I dreaded them. Couldn't imagine anyone without children going just for enjoyment, but they found it colorful and full of activity.
A whle ago I read in a food book about Pisces tuna, canned in Coos Bay, Oregon, by a small fishery where the dolphins swim alongside their boats but are never caught. Pisces offers several products, like salmon, smoked salmon, etc., but I wanted the albacore tuna packed in water. The gentleman at the fishery assured me their fish is never frozen, never cooked before it goes into the can, and then it is cooked once. It's much more expensive than Chicken of the Sea albacore but I eat a lot of tuna and thought it well worth it. Sue and I split a case, and I had some for the first time tonight. What I tasted plain was mild and good, not at all fishy, almost like chicken. Considered all kinds of tuna recipes but ended up with creamed tuna, with green peas and a lot of white wine in the sauce, along with just a bit of cheddar. Good but a little rich. Of course a 7 oz. can made enough for three people. My friend Charles has been in the hospital but is due out Monday, and I told him I'd bring some food--he just might get creamed tuna, which is a comfort food.
After I finished the novel this afternoon, I told myself I would not start another and would, instead, get serious about rewriting my own novel. But the new Deborah Crombie novel I got last night was like a siren call, so I started Necessary as Blood. One of the things about series that you get hooked on is that you mentally live in the world of the characters--so, tonight, it was comforting to be back in the world of Gemma James and Duncan Kincaid. I'm in for a happy read, but, yes, I'll get back to the novel.
I also spent time today planning my annual Christmas party. I've been dickering with Jamie about Saturday vs. Sunday and have finally decided on a date. I threatened to cancel it, since my budget is now limited, but everyone I talked to said they didn't care what they ate, they just wanted to visit. Some said that's the only time once a year that they see some people. So I'm forging ahead.

Hunger, and a mystery author

I read somewhere recently that Americans are hungry all the time. We translate hunger for companionship and love into hunger for food and turn to food for comfort. That accounts for the current fondness for comfort food--those things like meatloaf and creamed corn and mashed potatoes that we remember from our chldhood. Makes sense to me and would seem to account for the huge problem of overweight Americans (no pun intended). Valerie Bertinelli's recent book, Finding It, is subtitled Satisfying My Hunger for Life without Opening the Fridge. I think she's got a real point. On the other hand, since I've been on Weight Watchers, I'm hungry a lot, and I think it's real, physical hunger. Or maybe it's my craving for chocolate that makes me think I'm hungry and need something. Anyway, I was very disappointed in Weight Watchers yesterday. It was my weekly day to weigh. Weldon and Elizabeth convinced me to weigh on Thursdays instead of Mondays, because we all tend to overeat on the weekend. But just to check, I've been unofficially weighing on Monday too. For the last two weeks, I've weighed less on Monday than Thursday. This week I weighed 151.2 on Monday and, since I had low point counts all week, was sure I'd finally get down to the magic 150. Not so! I gained 6 oz. Apparently you do hit plateaus where you stay for weeks and weeks, but it's discouraging. It's the point at which many people give up and give in to that hunger. (As I write I'm eating chocolate.) But I'll stick with it.
This was my second day to lie low, but it didn't work out that way. Went to Central Market for a quick trip in the morning, ate an early lunch and went to the office for staff meeting, which lasted way too long. By the time I came home, took care of emails, etc. I got a late nap and had to rush to be ready to go to supper with Elizabeth and Weldon. We went to hear Deborah Crombie talk about her new novel, Necessary as Blood. I think she said this is the 13th in her series. I really like these books, although I'm not usually a British mystery fan--but her research is thorough and these are contemporary stories, so that we can identify with the characters, Brits though they may be. She said tonight she wanted to write a series in which the characters evolve, and these really do--their relationship deepens and becomes more comlex, so that in many way that relationship and not the mystery is at the core of each book. I bought two--one for me and one for a Christmas gift. I was pleased that she said, "I thought I recognized you." Other writers in the room hugged her as she came in and chatted, but I felt that would be presumptuous. Still now I've got an autographed book. Elizabeth and Weldon didn't buy one, but I sent them home tonight with paperback copies of some of her earlier books. Plus Elizabeth took The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. I'm sort of alarmed that I couldn't find The School of Essential Ingredients, which she wanted to borrow. It's a favorite and I don't want to lose track of it.
Since we were at the TCU Bookstore, I suggested a hamburger place nearby--I'd had a really good blue cheese burger there one day. Mistake. It turned out to be noisy, slow, and my hamburger wasn't all that good--kind of dry. Weldon liked his chicken sandwich, and Elizabeth said her turkey melt was what she needed today but she wouldn't order it again. I won't go back again, I don't think.
Tomorrow I really am going to lay low and stay in all day. There's a neighborhood block party, but I think I'll be off, especially since it's cool tonight--lowest temperature so far since summer. 44 is predicted.

Cancelling the world

I cancelled the world today, because I felt really rotten and didn't sleep again last night. I had lunch plans with Jean and Jeannie and dinner plans with Betty. When I called, each said, "Oh, thank goodness." (Does that tell you how much my friends want to see me?) Jean is having trouble with a medication; Jeannie is having bad allergy problems and besides that slipped on an acorn and took a hard fall--she was on her way to get x-rays. And Betty just got back from several days in San Antonio and had lots to do. It was a good day to cancel the world--rained all day, sometimes lightly but heavily around 5:30. More rain is predicted through most of the night. So I holed up in my house, went back to bed for an hour about 10 and again for two hours at 3, finished editing the manuscript I've been working on, and did odds and ends.
Before I retired, I might well have forced myself to go to work, partly out of a strong work ethic but also because I didn't like facing a day at home alone, without any human contact except the occasional phone call (Jordan called to check on me) and email, which really is pretty impersonal. I don't know if I've learned to like my own company better or if it's just that I felt so blah or what, but I welcomed the prospect of the day. Finished up several leftovers in the icebox, so I didn't have to cook--I thought about salmon cakes but decided to eat the leftover chicken spread--with a dab of the wine sauce, it was really good.
Tomorrow I have to get out--things at the office that demand attention, a doctor's appointment, and the grocery. But I have put all my social engagements (sounds busier than I am) on hold for three days. Kind of a good feeling. Since I have a clear desk, I may not start anything tonight, except a new novel.
Surely tomorrow will be a better day. At least, it's supposed to stop raining but will be cool.
I've been reading a series of Vineyard Mysteries by Michele Scott, and she gets my vote for having created a complex, interesting, and sympathetic gay man in the male protagonist's brother, Simon. He makes all the jutting hip gestures, worships movie stars and fast cars and designer clothes, calls the female protagonist Snow White, does all the terribly stereotypical things and yet comes across as believable and someone you like. And he's most protective of Snow White. It's a hard trick to pull off a complex character like that, and she does it well.
My favorite British mystery writer, Deborah Crombie, is not British, lives right here in North Texas, but writes about a Scotland Yard detective. She has a new book, Necessary as Blood, and will be at the TCU Bookstore Friday night. I hope to meet friends Weldon and Elizabeth to hear her brief talk and then go to supper. I rarely buy hardcovers but usually wait for the paperback. I'll buy this one in hardcover.