Housebound

I could get into this business of being sick--or semi-sick. As I wrote that, I realized that there are so many who are desperately ill that my light-hearted approach will seem heartless and, believe me, I don't mean it that way. But a today at home has been lovely. Walking pneumonia gave me all kinds of excuses for not doing things I didn't want to, like going out in a chilly rain. And it let me throw work to the winds and spend the morning leafing through my appalling collection of recipes, though that was kind of strange since I have no appetite. Still, several events loom on my culinary horizon and I was able to start picking possible recipes. This Sunday, I'll cook for Elizabeth and a friend--she has requested chili, and until today I'd have said the weather is too hot. But chili would be so good right now. She's brought gluten-free cornbread mix, and we'll have salad and guacamole with chips.
In mid-April, special friends are coming--the girl I grew up next door to and haven't seen in fifty years, with her husband, and we'll be joined for lunch by mutual friends from here in town. I want it to be a really special lunch, not overwhelming, light and spring-like, just the right dish. I'm working on it.
And then a few nights later, I'll cook the entree for a welcome-new-neighbor dinner for about twelve--vacillating between crockpot barbecue, chicken tetrazini, and a couple of other choices. I love going through recipes. One file I searched today is my "Entrees Never Tried" and as I went through I was heartless about discarding things I'd never cook. Reduced the file a great deal, a good thing since it was growing out of bounds. Too easy to snip something from a magazine and slide it in there. I have to think through whether or not I'd really cook that...and for who? (whom?)
Then there was napping, some sorting of papers on my desk, writing two guest blogs...oh, yes, I kept busy, didn't malinger in bed all day, though I did have a good nap. My biggest problem is that when I lie down, I start to cough. With 7-UP, cough drops, and some liquid that is supposed to help me sleep, it still takes a while. But, thank heaven, when I sleep, I do it soundly.
Tonight I made ham salad--so much ham left over--and ate a bit of leftover potato salad and fruit salad. They're both almost gone. Another good aspect to this: I've lost five pounds. But that, I know, will come back quickly.
And by tomorrow, I'll be ready to get back to the world. It's supposed to continue raining...oh, well.

On (not) living alone, or my (not) lonely life

In the days after my ex-husband's death, I heard from many old friends, some of whom I'd lost contact with over the years, several of whom I am still close to. Without exception, they remembered our house as a party house with good times for all. One wrote that it was a "beacon of hospitality" and recalled Joel cooking, while I ran around barefoot (and ruined my feet). Another said she as always so pleased to be invited because she knew it would be an exhilarating evening. It was a rare evening that there wasn't at least one extra for supper. I remember one man who batched it for a year before his wife decided to move to Texas and join him--he sat in the dining room and moaned that the only responsibility he'd had for months was to show up at our house on time for dinner, and he wasn't sure he couldn't handle more. A single pediatrician drove in the driveway so often that one night the teenage daughter of friends who lived with  us (another long story) fumed, "Why does he always come when we're having salmon croquettes."
The partying didn't stop when Joel left--but it changed and wasn't as frequent or as frenetic. Some friends drifted away, but many remained, and new people joined their ranks. I remember one friend at a party saying she didn't know anyone and then telling herself, "Of course, Judy has made new friends."
I was busy, working during the day, taking kids to this lesson and that and scout meetings in the evening and often not putting the car in the garage until nine-thirty or so. And then suddenly (so it seemed) I had four teenagers, and the house was full of young people coming and going. Plus there was family and a few who were extended family. It wasn't unusual to have fifteen or twenty at the Sunday dinner table.
As my chickens began to leave the nest, many friends worried how I, used to such a crowd around me, would survive living alone. The answer is "Very well, thank you." Oh sure, there were nights I stared at the TV but I was never pitifully lonely. And now the tide has turned. I love my life but sometimes I want long stretches of aloneness. This afternoon, from 12:30 until 5:00 I had no obligations--got a lot of work done and had a nap.
I have Jacob a lot;I have lunch dates, errands to run, an occasional meeting, classes to teach; I'm giving a fundraiser for one of my favorite local politicins, and I invite people to dinner frequently because I enjoy entertaining and cooking. I wouldn't give up any of this, but I do long for stretches of time when I can get something done. How will I write those next two books, for which I'm obligated?
Lonely? Not at all. Sometimes I think it's a sign of growing up, but these days I always have things waiting to be done, never succumb to "what shall I do tonight?" or watching TV out of boredom. There's too much to be done, and I love all of it.
So tomorrow morning I'll throw together a vegetable soup in the crockpot, go to church, bring Jacob home and fix lunch for two dear friends. Then tomorrow night I'll fix scallop cakes with lime/cilantro mayonnaise for Jordan. Think I'll get a handle on the Great American Novel? Not likely. I'll be lucky to keep up with email, Facebook, and my nap.

Entertaining frenzy

My entertaining frenzy is over. Yesterday's brunch for 11 ladies went well, with much help from Betty who brought plates, napkins, flatware, flowers, champagne, oj, and pie crusts (if I'd had to do the latter, I'd have had store-bought--just not one of my cooking talents). I made breakfast pies of sausage, Rotel tomatoes, and cheese with eggs and milk poured over the top and then more cheese. Very good--Jacob ate a whole piece last night, though he scorned my traditional fruits salad with its canned pie filling base. And I had made prune bread, according to Charles' wife's recipe, so today I sent him off with the second loaf--it makes two, but the ladies only ate one.
Jacob spent the night last night, and we had bad potty episodes--I was a failure at training, but he was so upset I didn't push it. Last night, he had a sore bottom, and this morning he was soaked from head to toe and would NOT let me change him until he had his milk. Result: I have to wash his bedding, plus the comforter on the daybed, which probably needed it anyway before he put a big round wet spot on it. And then when I insisted he had to get out of those clothes he cried in misery. When I asked if we were friends, he said, "No." But he gave me a sweet hug and kiss before he left.
Tonight he was back, along with 16 others--13 adults and four children, the oldest two of which (my granddaughters) eat like adults. It was Jordan's b'day dinner, and we had tacos, her usual request. To my mind, tacos are a lot of trouble--all that chopping. This morning I browned and seasoned the meat--half ground chuck and half buffalo. This afternoon, after fortifying myself with a good long nap, I grated cheese, chopped lettuce and scallions, and left the tomatoes for Jordan. I put out olives and sour cream and refried beans along with all that. And Jordan made queso and brought chips, so it was a feast. Christian had gotten a Black Forest cake--but he left it at home and they didn't have the hamburger Jordan insisted she had to have for the queso, so there went poor Christian back to get all those things.
Still, it was fun. I'm fond of Jordan's friends, but Jay and Susan, Melanie and Jamie and I ended up eating on the porch--a tad cool but not bad, and pleasant conversation.
But then the cleanup--when you have all those people and all those different serving dishes on the table, it's a lot of cleanup. My feet hurt, my back is tired, and, matter of fact, my entire body is tired. I refuse to attribute it to age, but I do wear out more quickly these days. Usually sitting for five minutes to rest my back and my feet pretty much restores me, but tonight everything is clean, the dishwasher is running, and I'll leave putting it away until tomorrow.
Haven't exercised in three days! Awful! Hate it when I do that.
Now I'm going to finish that mystery I've been at for days.

A "salon" evening

For several years I've wanted to start a community support group for TCU Press, not so much to raise money as to spread word and good will (if anybody wanted to make a donation, I'd be grateful). About a year ago I began active planning, and last fall we sent out invitations to join the Bookish Frogs. Well, we couldn't call it Friends, because TCU Press reports to the dean of the library, and they already have a Friends of the Library longstanding organization. We had once had a newsletter called the Bookish Frog, but we got too busy to do much about it, so we stole the name. About 50 people joined, which I thought was a great beginning. We had our first event, a dinner, in January--good attendance, good speaker, and a warmth of friendliness and interest about the whole affair.
One of my thoughts for the group was a series of small evenngs with authors, hosted in people's homes. So tonight I hosted ten people, including our star, author Jack August who has written three books for us--Vision in the Desert: Carl Hayden and the Hydropolitcs of the Southwest; Dividing Western Waters, and the forthcoming (in about a month) Adversity is My Angel, a co-authored autobiography (is there such a thing) of Raul Castro who was the first Hispanic governor of Arizona and ambassador to several South American countries. Jack, a historian, is an expert on water issues in the Southwest, and tonight the conversation ranged widely. Sometimes Jack held the spotlight, and the talk was about his experiences, his issues; other times it ranged over various topics--he had much in common with a couple of people in the group, so other things came up, from Yale to Arizona politics to publishing. Again, the room had a warm comfortable feeling (it was so cold and rainy that a fire in the fireplace was welcome). About 8:45, Jack sensed it was time to draw the evening to an end (I'd been wondering how to do it and bless him for that)--he thanked everyone and said he felt like he'd been to one of Judy's salons. It did have that kind of feel, which is exactly what I wanted. I hope this is the first of many evenings, hosted by other people. We had Dividing Western Waters on the coffee table for people to look at, but this was not an evening to sell books--just to relax and enjoy stimulating conversation, which we really all did.
I made a large pot of coffee, put out a bottle each of red and white wine, and had baked a chocolate bundt cake. Nobody much drank the coffee, but the rest of it disappeared. So now I'm left with a quickly cleaned kitchen and the feeling of a successful event--and a leftover pot of stale coffee. This is one aspect of my work that I like a whole lot!

More on food and cooking

Today, a friend in the TCU Library asked me if I'd quit blogging. She said she looked and the last entry was dated February 11. I assured her I had posted last night, so I checked it out and last night's entry was indeed dated February 11. I've posted lots since then, though I've surely missed a few days. I'll be curious to see what today's post says. But for those of you who were puzzled, February 11 was actually February 26 when I described the buffalo meatloaf dinner party. I have to say the meatloaf and the bourbon sauce had gotten immensely better by tonight. There's something to that old saw about letting dishes sit overnight.
Melinda in my office said to me today, "You have a lot of people to your house for meals. Do they ever reciprocate?" And I said yes, some do, some take me out to dinner, etc. She asked, "Do you like to go to their houses as much as have them at your house," and I said no. I enjoy it but my preference is to cook. My good friend Jean recognized that a long time ago and though I thoroughly enjoy meals at their house, she knows I'd rather do the cooking. And I sometimes trade a meal for financial advice with my friend Jeannie and her husband, Jim, who is my unofficial financial advisor. Other friends take me to restaurants---those who aren't as in to cooking as I am--and I always enjoy an evening out, especially if I try new foods.
What looked like a long and looming weekend since our visit to the Frisco Alters was cancelled has turned into a cooking weekend. Jordan wastes no time in filling her calendar and so had friends invited over for Saturday evening. When she suggested I come eat, I said I might do that and spend the night, and her reply was "Good. Addie and Julie are spending the night." I'm not quite up for a slumber party--I had visions of having the guest room to myself. So I'll fix a hearty appetizer, go out there about five and be home before dark. And it turns out I have a lot of cooking to do--appetizers for Jordan (I think I'll make a recipe of artihoke bread, take half, and save half for my Sunday dinner guests plus I'll take Jordan a yummy southwestern tuna dip). Meantime I heard from an old and dear friend who will be in town Sunday and wondered if we could have lunch. I suggested I cook brunch, and she's coming about 10:30--perfect. And then I 'll start a pot of spaghetti sauce (a recipe you cook in the slow cooker for four hours) for my dinner guests. And of course I'll get my requisite nap in. Somehow my weekends always become more interesting than I expect them to be--which means I do less writing.
Texas weather has us all befuddled--when I got into my car to go home yesterday the temp thing said 95. But it's was much cooler by noon today, and we expect a freeze tomorrow night. I'll have to turn off sprinklers and climb under the railing to turn off the front porch hose.

A gift from a fan

I had a wonderful suprise today (sorry, don't know how to fix that strange layout). I was working from home when the postman came, about eleven, with a package from a high school friend--actually she is the older sister of my best friend, and I spent many days and nights at their house, the one that is less than two blocks from the current Obama residence. The package contained this pillow, which Liz's granddaughter had made and her daughter-in-law wanted me to have it. I don't know Sue's age, the granddaughter, but she had apparently read my middle-school novel, Maggie and a Horse Named Devildust. The front of the pillow, as you can see, has the title and a picture; the back has comments about the funniest part, the saddest part, etc. It's a thrill to know youngsters are still reading that book, which was published in the 1980s. There's a funny story behind it--my agent asked if I could do a novel about a young girl who wanted to be a cowgirl, but her mother wanted her to be a lady: he had a publisher who asked for such a book. I wrote it, sent it, and it was returned with a rejection that said, "Frankly, we find Ms. Alter's writing pedestrian." Oh well, as one of our authors found out yesterday, you don't always get good reviews.

Our book, Literary Dallas, edited by my good friend Fran Vick, got a "mixed" review in the Dallas paper. Fran saw it as purely negative, bit it really wasn't. It did have an unfortunate headline, "Big Diss," but in spite of that I think it will sell the book, and the folks at A&M agree. But when a reviewer doesn't love your work, it's kind of like someone not thinking your grandchild isn't as beautiful as you do. But it's part of the writing world, and you have to stand up and take your licks. I've heard funny and horrifying stories about authors who complained about negative books.

One of my pet peeves is to wait for that repairman who's due between 8 and 10 and he hasn't come by noon. Today I was still "taking care of myself," getting rid of this tiny cold, so I called and cancelled the AT&T installation--I wanted a nap. It was a semi-lazy day; I dealt with business matters most of the morning, via email, but found time this afternoon to lay out dishes for my Saturday night tree trimming party. Ever since I've been entertaining, I've put out dishes way in advance, each with a slip of paper telling what goes into the dish. I look at my menu, make the slips, and choose the bowls, etc. accordingly. Jordan now does the same thing, and one night, when she was preparing her first Thanksgiving dinner, she had the table all set days before. Christian commented, "You and your mother have a screw loose."

After two and a half days at home, feeling sorry for myself because I was sniffling and coughing, I'm ready to get back into the world tomorrow. and believe me, I have a lot to do out there in the world. Today I did my yoga routine for the first time in almost a week. Felt good, and I did better than I expected.

A friend needs prayers, reading, and Mexican night at the Alters

My friend Katie today emailed asking for prayers for her husband, Gayland Pool, who will have bypass surgery in the morning. Gayland is a wonderful person, a retired Episcopalian priest who happens to make the best bread ever. He and Katie have my prayers and those of all who know and love them. Sometimes I am saddened by how many people need our prayers, saddened and also grateful for the good health and good fortune my family and I enjoy.
I read about a blog today called http://www.200books.com. The writer, a bookstore owner, has vowed to read 200 books in 2008, and she's keeping a page count, and a record of her reading, on her blog, along with assorted other comments. She's doing this because she's alarmed at how little most Americans read for pleasure. Hats off to her! I'm glad to say, however, that I'm one of those who reads for pleasure.
TCU Press decided today--by democratic vote of the staff and our graduate student--to give up our blog, The Bookish Frog in case anyone is reading, and send our news to the Texas A&M University Press blog (http://bookblog.typepad.com). A&M distributes our books, and their blog is linked to RSS feeds (okay, I'm still learning about this).
Tonight was Mexican night at the Alters. Jordan has been doing this for years. In fact, she started asking for taco dinners for her birthday as a very young child. As a young single person, she began inviting friends for taco dinners at my house It became Mexican night at the Alters, and the faces change a bit, but they're mostly the same young people I've known for years. I like having them around me, though tonight I admit my feet and back are more than a little tired. Jordan did most of the work, and I did most of the cleanup. We had tacos, Colin's queso (hamburger and pork sausage, 1 lb. each, a 16 oz. jar of Pace picante, a lb. of Velveeta, and a can of mushroom soup--you can vary the spice of it by choosing regular or hot sausage, mild or hot picante), leftover tamale pie (which everyone raved about), and Jordan's layered dip. Enough left over to feed Cox's army. Plus I made a pan of brownies. I'll freeze those and have them for late night snacks. In fact, excuse me a minute--I need a brownie.
Jacob was a little solemn during the evening, but I maintain he was a bit overwhelmed by being the only child among 15 tall people he didn't know. His father kept saying, "He's trying to get sick" until I told him if he said that again I'd bop him. I don't believe in planting the illness model in children's heads, even though he did have a fever this morning (teething, maybe). Christian said, "He doesn't know what I said," but I don't believe that either. Jacob's understands a whole lot more than he talks about. Tonight one of the girls asked him to show her the lions, and he took her by the hand and led her to my neighbors house where there are indeed concrete lions.
Ready for bed, but there are still a few young people on my porch enjoying themselves. It's nice that it turned out to be the warmest evening we've had in a long time, the first front porch night of spring.

In a rosy glow

I'm in a rosy glow of happiness tonight, because my annual Tree Trimming party was lovely. About 60 people, who lingered and talked. It's fun to have people meet at my house, because they always discover connections--and some come to me with the curous question, "How do you know so and so?" I thought I would have too much food, but it was just about right--brie with an apricot/red pepper topping disappeared, as did queso and almost but not quite every bit of a hot corn dip and a caviar spread. I've a few meatballs left, about half a cheeseball, and some artichoke dip. And a very few desserts. Everyone seemed to feel festive, and although I usually don't get to visit much, I did visit with a few people. Every year there are one or two new people, and that makes it fun. A good friend called this morning to say she couldn't be here and said sadly, "It's the first one I've missed in 42 years." Well, she exaggerates a bit.
My family was here: four of my children (well, actually two I raised and two who married into the clan but they are all my children), three of my seven grandchildren, my brother and sister-in-law, my niece and her three-month-old (dressed up in a plaid dress, she looked like a porcelain doll!) and my nephew and his wife and their baby, Kate, who is the age of of Jacob. There were other children--neighbors--and the playroom was busy and happy, though Jacob spent a lot of time plowing through the crowd, favoring people with his grins, and running his truck into their feet. By the time he went home, he was staggering with exhaustion, and when I asked for a goodnight kiss, he shook his head to say "no."
Now it's almost 9:30. The kitchen is clean, the dishes are clean and waiting to be put away in the morning, the cat has been released from captivity in the office bathroom, and I'm having a glass of wine and some of the food I didn't eat during the party. I'll read a little and then nod off, because tomorrow is a working day.
And it's also another cooking day. Tuesday night I'm having the neighbors in for a VERY casual supper to meet Sue's parents, who live in Canada but always summer in Rockport. There'll be eight adults and four kids, I think, and I've enough appetizers and desserts left over. I'll make a big Mexican casserole and a bean salad, and Jay next door said he'd bring guacamole. After that, I'm going to rest on my laurels until we go to Houston.