Oh what a wonderful wonderful day

The lyrics to that old gospel song pretty much sum up my feelings about the day. It was the day of my big fundraiser for Lon Burnam--I gave this party only in part because Lon is my friend--more because I think it's important to keep his clear, strong voice in the Texas legislature. Lon's office brought me some Paschal High School mementos for decorations--the selection of a representative for the new ISD district is big news right now--along with much appreciated beer and wine. I fixed most of the food--liver pate, a salmon spread (not the smoky one I usually do but I really liked this and have eaten a lot of it tonight), and a crudities tray that was I thought the peak of my cooking accomplishment for the day--or week. For those with a sweet tooth, I made mini chocolate muffins--I've mentioned this before, but it's the Weight Watchers recipe that calls for a box of cake mix, a can of pumpkin, and a cup of semi-sweet chocolate morsels. I told Jordan a whole cupcake is only one point, and these are tiny. "So I can eat five?" I also made a pound cake and some experimental lemon-basil cookies. I thought they balanced the other things well, but I'm not a fan of lemon desserts and I couldn't taste much basil. Jay and Susan came for leftovers tonight (lots of beer in my fridge right now) and Jay said he could taste the basil. Only things I didn't make: guac and chips, and ranch and roasted tomatillo salsa for the crudities.
And I had my own very special party angel. Jordan whizzed through the house, catching details I had missed or that were more important to her than to me. She kept up with discarded dishes, refilled dishes as necessary, and was charming to everyone. She has a special talent for that.

The event was from two to four, and Lon seemed pleased with it. I was bushed, but Jordan and I got the kitchen cleaned in record time. It worries me a bit that an event like that wears me out--what, me aging! No never! But I figured out it's as I told granddaughter Edie years ago--my feet have grown old, but I haven't. If my feet didn't hurt so badly, I'd have been fine. Tonight I have my energy back--and I only had a brief nap.

I wouldn't overshadow Lon for anything, but my big excitement of the day was the cover to my next Kelly O'Connell Mystery, No Neighborhood for Old Women. My publisher, who did the cover, emailed it today, and I love it. It perfectly matches the cover of the first one, Skeleton in a Dead Space, and you know what they say about branding. Watch for the digital launch April 8 and print editions a couple of weeks later. Now to begin my pre-pub publicity. What fun.

What floor do you live on?

Having been a Christmas/Easter churchgoer for the past couple of years, I've gone back to church. Thanks to Jacob for getting me there. Even though it's all fun and games in the pre-school nursery, I want him to know that church is where you go on Sundy morning. He enjoys it, and I'm glad to be back. This Sunday, the minister quoted a theologian (sorry, can't give you the name) who suggested we think of ourselves as a house. Most of us live on the first floor, but there's the second floor and even the attic--levels we could aspire to if we wanted and tried, and then there's the basement, where we could sink to being less than we should be. The image stuck with me. I remembered someone in my class who didn't think she is living up to her full potential--actually I think she's on the second floor, and I hope to share this image with her. I guess most of us live on the first floor but hope that occasionally we make to the second.
I taught a new memoir group today for Human Resources at TCU today--nice bunch of women who seem enthusiastic and genuinely interested. Out of seven present, one wants to write professionally. The others write for their children and grandchildren, and one writes, I suspect, for herself--nothing wrong with that. I caught one woman staring into space and asked if she had a question. She said no, her mind had just slipped back to something that had happened at the office that day. That's the trouble with a lunch-hour class--it's hard for people to put their work out of their minds for one hour and then leap back into it.
I heard today of a politician, Federal legislature I believe, who went on a hunger strike several years ago and is going on one again to protest legislation which hurts the poor. He said, "We can't fix the economy on the backs of the poor. They didn't get us into this mess, and we should not punish them to get out of it." Hope the Texas legislature was listening: Friday HB1 comes up for a vote. It's a budget that closes schools, raises college tuition, leaves senior citizens homeless, cuts funding for those with disabilities, and elminates pre-K programs. There goes the remnants of LBJ's Head Start and the Great Society. I wonder if Texas is headed for the basement.
I know, I promised no politics, but I am also moved by my friend Representative Lon Burnam's plea to protest HB1 and urge legislators to vote against it. I don't think we want to live in a state that ignores people's basic needs.