A mishmash day

No profound thoughts today. Got going pretty early, went to Central Market for just a few items--how do you go for just a few things and end up spending $45? I did it. Came home, dealt with about fifty e-mails, and went to the employees' book review lunch at TCU. A book by Wendi Pierce with Rick Steed on Historic Day Trips from Dallas/Fort Worth. Lots of history, which I find fascinating, though some was pretty bloody--they delved into such topics as the case of a man named Wilbarger who was the first Anglo to be scalped and survive. Apparently they read historical markers and then did research--kind of stuff I love. Susan Oakley, who puts these lunches together, asked what you do when you're with someone who doesn't want to stop at markers because "We're making such good time." It's that old dilemma--is the trip your goal or the destination. My ex-husband was of the school where you get in the car, go by the most direct method, and don't get out until you get where  you're going; I love backroads and small towns and bits of history. I remember the time a friend and I took an entire long day to drive from Amarillo to Fort Worth (normally a six-hour drive)--we drove around the square of every small town, stopped in junk stores, looked for the Waggoner mansion in Decatur, had a grand time. I'm afraid I'm too often a passenger in a car where the destination is the goal. Anyway, I enjoyed this book program--though I think my hearing is getting worse. Even with my hearing aids, I missed a lot of it.
Tonight  Betty and I went to one of our favorite places, Sapristi's. Usually we split the tapas platter, but it had spicy eggplant that the waiter assured us was really spicy (not for me) and a potato fritatta--the Spanish have a name for it that I can't remember, but I don't particularly care for it. So I had a delicious crab cake and a Caesar salad--so good!
Now I'm home wading through more e-mails and trying to collect my thoughts. My hectic week is turning out quite manageable, and the next two days look easy. I need to go back to my novel--have some good ideas for rewrites that I must study, but why rewrite until  you finish the darn thing? I think a part of my brain is waiting for the two other possible jobs--paying jobs, I should add. When I read Guppies posts (Going to be Published) I realize that I'm a real slacker. Those ladies devote every day to their writing, whereas I go back to it whenever, waiting for some sign from the heavens. Then again, they all e-mail so much that I don't know how they have time to write. It takes me much of the day just to read the e-mails.

A funny day

Tonight Betty and I went to Sapristi's for dinner and had our favorite--the tapas platter for two. It had  spicy quail with a something-tomato sauce (not spicy and absolutely delicious), beef skewers, bacon-wrapped scallops, feta bruschetta, and a tart with peppers and onions. Since I hadn't been out of the house in three days I felt downrightcelebratory. I had a chocolate mousse dessert and reveled in stories of Betty's trip to Paris and Germany (which she loved, though it was rainy and cold most of the time). We had a good visit,and I was so glad to be out in the world. After I got home I called Jay and Susan to come get the strawberries I had left over from the weekend, and we had a visit on the porch, so I feel I've had some sociability for the evening.
Day three of my new life didn't go as well as the previous two. I piddled and did small things to pass the time, although not all of them were useless. Doing yoga on a floor mat in the family room can sure make you realize that you haven't vacummed since the grandkids were here, so I vacummed, scrubbed up the sticky tape from the living room floor (it used to anchor the rug but was now just a sticky mess), showered, read a bit, played on the web, but put off working. Finally in the afternoon I wrote 1,000 words on my mystery and felt pretty good about them. I had a couple of scenes in my head that had to be written, so I finished one partially--still have to complete it and move on to the next. But I'm feeling optimistic. And since I finished reading the mystery that had me riveted, maybe I'll be more likely to concentrate on writing. Anyway, I'm hopeful. I think my new life will take some adjusting. But I'm working at it with a cheerful heart.

How will you age?

My friend Charles is 92. A year ago he was running the streets of his Fort Worth neighborhood and riding his bike, although he hung up his car keys voluntarily a couple of years ago. Today he spends much of his time in a nursing home bed, but he gets out--oh, boy, does he get out. He goes to the Unitarian church, and friends pick him up; then they all go to lunch afterward. He goes to lunch on Wednesdays at the Black-Eyed Pea with a church group, and today he and his youngest son had lunch at the Swiss Pastry Shop which he loves. Tonight I took him to a local bistro that serves mussels, which he remembers eating as a very young child. He told me several times how much he was looking forward to the evening, and enjoy he did.. He ate a small serving (looked pretty big to me) of mussels in Italian sauce (wine, cream and pesto)--I tried my first mussel and thought it was neither good nor bad but not something I'd order. Then he had a crab cake, and I could tell he was only avoiding dessert because of my diet, so we finally compromised on chocolate mousse with two spoons. He ate 3/4 of it, while I happily took a few bites and ate the raspberries. When I asked if he was going to have wine, he said, "Oh, yes, that's part of the meal I'm looking forward to." He savored every bite, eating slowly and enjoying--something I should learn to do. I should mention that he arrived with his mouth set for crab cakes but they weren't on the menu--I too wanted crab cakes but the waitress said they had only one left from yesterday, so I gave it to him. I ate Caesar salad and steak tartare. We had a lovely evening, teasing each other as longtime friends will do, and when I took him back to the retirement center he guarnteed me he'd be asleep in an hour. I enjoyed the evening, doubly because he enjoyed it so much. But it made me thinnk--I want to age like Charles. Even though he now uses a walker, confesses that he's gotten clumsier, and refers to himself as disabled, he has an absolute zest for life and thoroughly enjoys the string of visitors who come and go from his room. Obviously they enjoy him too, and except for moments of forgetfulness--he called me last night to ask if we'd missed our date and I explained it was tonight--he's as lucid and brilliant as he always was, one of the smartest men I ever knew. I want to age like Charles.
Funny thing, but when I go to the retirement home to see him I keep running into some old acquaintances who now live there. One said tonight, "I wish we could get you down here,"and I said, "I enjoy my house too much." I guess I made a faux pas because when I walked in I saw a woman I know, we spoke, and I asked if she was working there. "No," she said, "I live here now." Charles laughed when I told him the story.
But on a sad note, we lost a good friend who died last night, a surgeon who had been my ex-husband's senior partner and who, when I was left alone with four children, kept a close watch to see that we were all okay. We've remained friends over all those years, and I lunched frequently with his wife. She was the one who called this morning to give me the news. Charles says he wants to go to the memorial service, so I'll go pick him up Monday morning.
I realize, with some shock, that all that is not that far away for me--twenty years, and I'll be Charles' age. I truly hope to do it gracefully, as a joy to my family and not a burden. But I know it ain't easy.