Traumas, major and minor

We have suvived all kinds of traumas, major and minor. On Wednesday it was floods and possible tornadoes. I spent an hour watching firemen rescue people from an apt. complex roof in Arlington--a creek had suddenly burst its banks. And there was flooding all ovr the state in the path of--was it Hermione? Megan had a friend who drove into a low-water crossing before he saw the water but luckily escaped. Then that night I spent an hour texting with Melanie in Frisco because it looked like a tornado was headed their way--Jamie was at his office in Addison and she told him to stay there. I think the storm--no tornado but lots of wind and rain--passed between them. A good friend lives in a sixth-floor condo in Dallas where another tornado looked headed. I asked if she went to the basement but she said she stood in the window and watched it. Her opinion was that it was a lot more exciting on TV than what she saw. Tells you something about media, doesn't it? A good two hours of media time was devoted to the storms.
On the home front, the cat got locked in the closet that is her new hiding spot. Socorro, who keeps my house as clean as she can, didn't realize it was in there and closed the door tight. I finally missed her and noticed the closed door. Then yesterday morning when I went to let Scooby out, there was a dead possum at the foot of the stairs to the back yard.. My first instinct was to call neighbor Jay but I figured by the time he got here, Scooby's bladder would have given way. So I used the pooper-scooper to throw the poor critter over the fence into the drivewy, where today Greg, who does the lawn, kindly disposed of it for me. No, it was not playing possum--it was dead, for sure!
My food book proceeds, and today I plowed through the Best Maid Products (best known for pickles) Web page and got enough information to write up a descriptive history. Like many Texas foods it began as a home project--a Mrs. Dalton who made and sold meringue pies and didn't know what to do with all those leftover egg yolks. So she made mayonnaise. I love the creative use of leftovers! I think this is the last major entry before I send the draft off to the probable publisher.
I'm relieved that the publicity-seeking "reverend" in Florida has decided not to burn the Koran, but I still hope tomorrow will be peaceful. I thought President Obama did a good job today of handling the subject and the whole anti-Muslim feeling that has suddenly burst upon us with such ferocity. I saw on TV tonight a bit about a man who lost his son that day and is crusading to educate young adults--too young at the time to remember or understand--about the life-changing day and its impact on America. A much more reasonable way to remember the victims than burning the Koran.
Yay! The house next door to me will be occupied as of tomorrow. The landlady has rented, after nine months of trying to sell, to a young patent attorney, his wife who is expecting, and their two-year-old daughter. Sounds like good neighbors. Not having neighbors is sort of akin to being marooned on an island.

Dogs and Cats #2

Wywy ventured out of his closet voluntarily this morning, nibbled just a bit, wandered around the house, and retreated. I got him out periodically to love him and offer him food, and several times he sat on my desk for a while. Tonight when I came home from dinner, he was waiting at the door and yowled to be fed, but didn't eat much. I'll feel better when he's eating again.
Scooby, who sometimes lounges in the house until 8 p.m., nicely went out at 5:15. I fed him and left for a 5:30 dinner meeting. Just got inside the restaurants when the heavens let loose--hardest rain I've seen all summer, and it kept up for almost an hour. Got home in time to bring a grateful dog inside, but now it's thundering and lightning again. Scooby's food was scattered all over the back steps--a soggy feast for the possums but I don't suppose they're fussy.
Spent the whole day working at my desk and felt good about it. Moving my Texas food book right along. Other than that, the world is in its place, I'm a happy camper, and I have nothing profound to say. Oh, except I snagged my right sideview mirror on the garage wall this evening and killed it. In my own defense, it's a narrow 1920s garage, and I've driven in and out of it for 17 years without a problem. As the new director of the press said at dinner, "It's Murphy's Law. Bound to happen."

Storms and a good day of work

'Twas a dark and stormy night . . . . No, seriously, it really was. So dark and stormy, with thunder and lightning so close, that I did what I rarely do--turned off the computer, got out candles, matches, and flashlights, and brought the dog in early. He continues to cower in the shower stall in my office bathroom, though the storm has long since passed through. I don't know that we got that much rain but it was a powerful show of thunder and lightning. I can still hear very distant thunder off to the east. With the computer off, I spent a contented hour reading a food book and was a happy camper.
But that's maybe because I made great progress on my chapter of the osteopathic history today--wrote 2200 words (it is supposed to be 3500) and made some contacts with people who can help me. Granted, it's not a polished 2200 words, but I always think if you can get something down in writing (or in a computer file) you're on your way--you have material to work with. I talked today to the first faculty member hired (after the dean), Dr. Elizabeth Harris, and I plan to email her the draft, along with a set of questions. I had arranged to call her Friday, but Friday is shaping up to be a horrendously busy day, and I think I'll have to reschedule.
The college began in makeshift quarters with donated equipment, donated books, most out of date, for the library, an anatomy lab in a garage apartment, etc. In the fall of 1970 it welcomed it's first class--nineteen men and one woman, average age older than that of most beginning medical students. Today it is a modern sprawling complex, covering several square blocks, with another large new classroom building under construction, and I don't know how many students. But it has several schools, such as public health, under the umbrella of the University of North Texas Health Science Center. My chapter is entitled "Humble Beginnings," and they were indeed humble--who would have envisioned the college as it is today? And yet some of the people from those early days remain my heroes--Dr. George Luibel, an old friend of my father's and the man who often trreated my sore back and scolded me for the way I sat (eyes and toes always in the same direction was his dictum), was the one with the vision to found and build a college and to make it work in spite of incredible odds. He's gone now, but he lived to see that his dream was firmly established. He would not like the move today to add an M.D. degree to the curriculum--nor do I. And then Dean Henry Hardt, a retired chemistry professor, former president of the NCAA, and founding president of the Texas Board of Basic Sciences, who came on board as the dean, early on when the school was only a paper college. He inspired all with his grace, wisdom, and kindness. I agree with Libby Harris when she said today she thinks the two of them were the wisest men she ever met in her life. I was pleased to be on the fringes of that beginning--my ex-husband was among the founding faculty and I have been an "osteopathic brat" all my life (yeah, I feel sort of the same way about osteopathic medicine as "army brats" often do about the army). I miss my involvement in the osteopathic profession today. So writing this chapter is really a pleasure--I just worry about getting it right.
I think it's supposed to rain most of tomorrow, and I will stay home and work on that chapter. When Socorro Escobar comes to clean my house, which badly needs it, I'll hide in my office.

It was a dark and stormy night . . . .and death of a mother

It is truly a dark and stormy night, and Megan is driving from Austin with Sawyer and Ford. The big boys in the family--my sons Colin and Jamie, my son-in-law Brandon and his brother Gavin, are all fishing in Montana. So we're having a girls weekend in Fort Worth, with regrets that Houston is just too far for Lisa to make it and bring Morgan and Kegan. But Megan is having an awful drive--she planned to leave home at 3:30--whether she did or not, I don't know, but at 5:30 she said she was almost to Belton, and I expressed relief that she was past Salado where there was reported to be water on the road. Then she called to say she was still south of Salado, and half an hour later she reported she had moved four miles--massive traffice pile-up. I don't know whether it was due to an accident or just the weather. Last report, she was at West, which is just over an hour from here, so I'm looking for her shortly--it's 8:55 right now. I'm glad she brought sandwiches for the boys, and I have wine and supper waiting for her. Will be much relieved when she gets here.
Tomorrow morning, Mel and her girls, Maddie and Edie, will arrive, and weather permitting they'll all go to the zoo, while Juju goes to Central Market. Then early naps for the little ones and Juju, a play date for the children, tacos for supper, and the big girls will go bar-hopping while Maddie, Edie, and I babysit. I don't think the big girls are much used to bar-hopping these days, and I expect them home early.
Meantime I have work out the kazoo--three major projects due in October, and this weekend will see no work on any of them. But I always make my deadlines, and I will again. Retirement is not for sissies.
Scooby is happily in the house and away from the storms--the skies are still rumbling and thundering. A dark and stormy night indeed . . . .
A friend of Jordan's lost her mother to cancer this week. Jordan and Christian went to the viewing last night (I told Jordan tonight when I pass on, no viewing!) and she went to the funeral today. This morning she sent me an email that made me cry--it said, "I love you Mommie. Going to the funeral of a friend's mother is no fun." Tonight she asked if I had a file on my funeral, and I said yes I do. I want "Amazing Grace," preferably by a bagpiper, and I want "Go my children, with my blessing." I asked her if she'd know what to write for an obituary and she said no, so I need to do that. She and the other children know my parents as Grandmother and Grandfather, but I don't think they've ever thought about their real names, or some of the history of my life before they became a conscioius part of it. And I told her I wanted to stress that I was a mother and grandmother most importantly--author and publisher came after that. My friend Jean said this would make Jordan appreciate me more, but I said Jordan already appreciates me. I believe that, however, it may change her perception. Death is never easy.
And a thought on politics: like much of the nation I'm appalled at Joe Wilson's outburst during President Obama's speech, apology notwithstanding. I wonder what's become of civility in our country, and I am worried--okay terrified--by the partisan split. I read an editorial today that a country divided, like ours, is more vulnerable to terrorist attack--which seems true to me. When did we lose our sense of civility and good manners? A small matter, but I refused to let Jacob come to the dinner table tonight without a shirt on--it seems to me on such small matters the basis of consideration for others is built. What's happened to our society? And how can we fix it?

Storms, luncheons, and books

We had wonderful stormy weather here tonight though to the north of us there was the real threat of tornadoes and to the east, power outages. Although I got out candles and flashlights, we were spared all that. We had lots of fairly heavy rain, thunder and lightning but no high winds. After it was over, I called my neighbor about something and he answered with, "Wasn't that a lovely storm?" I agreed--I love a good storm, a love carried over from my childhood summers in a cabin in Indiana at the foot of Lake Michigan. We would watch storms roll down the length of the lake, and as the lake churned and grew angry, it was awe-inspiring. Scooby has none of my appreciation of storms, so I brought him in early, but I know he won't go out again until morning. I just hope he doesn't get impatient before seven o'clock.
My neighbor Sue called to say she was staying in Dallas at her office until the storm passed. "If you were out in this," she told me, "I'd worry." So she didn't want me to worry about her and has promised to call when she gets home. It's so wonderful to be surrounded by people who care about me and who I care about.
Today I went to the retirees lunch of TCOM (Texas College of Osteopathic Medicine, now part of the University of North Texas Health Center System). Charles likes me to go with him, which I appreciate, and since he has quit driving, I picked him up. There are only two or three people I remember from the old days, but I had a good time talking to two ladies next to me who had worked with the Institute for Human Fitness and knew my brother. I regaled them with the story of how the institute was born in meetings in my living room and while the men met and discussed fitness, my friend Anne, who lived with us then, and I cooked the most lavish rich desserts we could imagine. Those fitness experts devoured them. I always remember Anne's husband at a child's birthday party, his plate loaded with cake and ice cream, asking plaintively, "Don't you have any diet Coke?"
The luncheon speakers were a bit long but very interesting and for once I was really tuned into the talks--I often tune them out. The statistics on how TCOM has grown in 40 years are remarkable from 100 students to over 1400 next fall, millions in research grants, etc.--and to think I was there at the very beginning. The main speaker talked about our failing health care system, insisting that money isn't the way to fix it--electronic connections and cooperation are the way to save millions, and so is education, preventive health, etc. Most interesting.
I'm reading another cooking book, this about a young American woman's experience at Cordon Bleu. I'll report soon.

Small and large accomplishments

My small accomlishment that I forgot to announce in yesterday's post is a Weight Watchers report: I lost one ounce last week. But, hey, it's better than gaining. And it was a week fraught with stress in which I decided for several meals to give up the diet. Then I rationalized I had already paid for three months so I'd keep it up but not obsess about it as I was. So for the past two days I've gone slightly over my daily points limit, but I am doing so much better than I did when I look at what I'm eating. I've almost cut out chocolate, no bread and butter late at night, etc. And tonight I had 2 oz. of chicken (ahhh, but it had mushroom/wine gravy on it). Fruit is a problem--adds more points than you'd expect--and today I had half an egg salad sandwich--but egg salad is high. And drinking wine doesn't help, but it soothes the spirit.
A bigger accomplishment: I got to the end of my second mystery tonight. Is it good? No, not yet, but I have hope it will be. And at least I figured out the basic structure, just kinding of putting words on paper. Now I have to go back and make it into a living thing, where the people really come alive. Plotting is always hardest for me, and I'm not sure I've got it right yet, so I may ask my mentor to read it in its raw state. But I feel a sense of accomplishment. It's been almost six months since I submitted the first mystery to a publisher who requires an exclusive--I can't send it to anyone else as long as they have it. I'm hoping that's a good sign. At least they didn't send it back in the next mail. Uncertain about how long to wait before inquiring. I have this superstitious feeling that if I inquire I'll jinx the whole deal.
And the Dallas News editor suggested a column that I'm really interested in working on. And the publisher of What We Eat When We Eat Alone happily agreed to send me a review copy, so maybe that's the first step in turning this blog into a review one--or finding some other avenue to review food writing. I'm up about all this.
A wonderful storm blew in tonight. I know it brought hail in other parts of the county, but just before it hit thunder rumbled and wind blew and I stood out on the porch enjoying it. When I was a kid my family had a cottage at the very foot of Lake Michigan and I loved to watch storms roll in down the length of the lake. I still love it, though I know Texas storms can be dangerous. After I stood and enjoyed for a while, I relented and went to bring Scooby inside. He does not at all share my enjoyment of them--in fact, I used to have to tranquilize him--the problem being the pill took sometimes 4-6 hours to take effect and by then the storm was over. I guess he's more secure now, because lying at my feet seems to be enough tranquilizer for him. The storm has passed now but I understand there are more due during the night. My problem then is always to get Scoob to go out in the morning.

Stormy day

It was a dark and stormy night . . . okay, no, it was a dark and stormy morning. I heard the thunder about six this morning and thought with dread about getting Scooby to go out. He is terrified of storms, but I can't leave him in because if I'm not watching him, his house manners are out the door. He has a secure, safe, dry doghouse outside, plus I know he has to pee and he wants his breakfast. But when 50 lbs. of frantic dog resists you on a leash, it's touch and go. I told Jordan she should call me every stormy morning to make sure he hasn't pulled me down. I try to hang on to something as I drag him outside--a piece of furniture, a counter, etc. Once this morning I thought he'd pull me down and I almost let go of the leash, but I righted myself and finally got him outside. After which I called a cheery, "Thank you." Not sure if I was thanking Scooby or the Lord. Tonight of course, he's lying sweetly at my feet. Here he is in his summer haircut--looks so cute. My friend Gayla has a standard mahoghany collie that when we first saw was shaved--I had no idea how beautiful and majestic she'd turn out to be. I told Gayla she should never shave her again--but majestic is a word we'll never apply to Scooby, and he really looks good with short hair and seems more comfortable. We're supposed to have scattered storms tomorrow--pray they don't come at eight a.m.

Lisa called just after I got Scooby out and I told her I was anxious to hear about their weekend but didn't want to talk because it was lightning. When Colin called tonight I told him that I'd hung up on his wife and why, and he said it was an old wives' tale. But once when Megan was insulted I said that to her, I found internet evidence, sent it to her, and both she and Brandon apologized. You are NOT supposed to talk on a land line or take a shower when it's lightning. Cell phones are not perfectly safe but better.

A busy work day. I got a lot done, including some things that were difficult for me, like rejecting a friend's manuscript. Still have more of that kind of thing to do, but I made great progress today. Academic publishing these days is a lot more complicated than it was ten years ago. I did office work when I came home, had a nap, did my yoga, fixed supper, and then really did write about six pages. Feeling good about that.

And the best news is that after six days on Weight Watchers I've lost not quite two pounds. I'm learning about free foods, etc. And I'm feeling good about being in this for the long haul until I lose twenty pounds. Just think, only 18 to go.

Storms . . . and a fun weekend ahead

We're having a Texas storm tonight, the kind that keeps you glued to the TV--only my Dish connection went out. By then, though, I knew it was a severe storm, and almost immediately the hail started. I worried about my windows--single-paned with the old glass that is bound to be fragile (the house was built in 1922 and most of the windows are original). Apparently it's all okay, and the hail has now been replaced by thunder. Scooby is at my feet but is remarkably calm for such a stormy night. I actually enjoy a good storm (as long as I feel pretty sure there's no tornado). I went out on the porch before it hit to watch it approach, forgot I'd already set the alarm, and set it off.
Maddie, my oldest granddaughter at almost nine, is coming to spend the weekend with me--it's a first. Just Maddie and me. We talked about it last week, and she said she really wanted to do that. Edie, at five, was put out but Jamie explained it as a rite of passage thing. What five-year-old understands that language--only one who would holler, "Juju, a little help here please!"
I've been thinking of things to do with Maddie--the Main Street Arts Festival is this weekend, but that means thousands of people and miles of walking. Scratch that. We'll go shopping for her birthday present and a little consolation prize for Edie, and I'd like to go to the nursery--I think she'd enjoy choosing plants for my yard. And then Central Market, to plan our dinner for Saturday night (Maddie loves to cook and says she's going to be a chef). And we'll have to go play with Jacob.
And then Monday Jordan, Jacob and I are going to Austin. I don't know the grandsons down there--Sawyer, almost four, and Ford, about a year and a half--as well as I'd like, nor do they know me. We'll spend two nights, and I'm looking forward to it. So I'm having a grandchildren spell, which I love.
Not doing much work. I find it's easy to busy myself with reading for the office and neglect my own writing. It's a kind of inertia, and I need to overcome it. But since I'm without a defined project right now, that's hard--the Scotland book is shapeless (I could probably go to work and give it shape), the mystery sequel holds no interest until I get a nibble on the first one, and I have no assignments for children's books. So it's a dry period, as though I am waiting for something to happen that will give me a project. I do think--and this comes clear to me as I write--that I need to take myself in hand and make something happen! Pro-active--that's the term. Probably tomorrow . . . no, Maddie will be here. Probably next week. See how easy procrastination is?

Darkness and Silence

This mornng at about three o'clock, every light in my house blazed The electricity had been off since Wed. at 6:30 in the evening--two nights and a day. When it went off, all the lights were on because it was the proverbial dark and stormy night, so when the power came back the house was lit up like I was having a party. The lamp in my bedroom went on, which woke me, and I crawled out of bed to turn out lights throughout the house.
Wed. night I was bummed about the lack of electricity--tried to go to bed early but couldn't sleep, tried to read by candlelight but couldn't do it and gained a new appreciation for Abraham Lincoln. The next morning dressing was hard--my bathroom is a windowless cave, so I rigged a dressing table--a mirror propped up by books--in the family room to put on my makeup by the window (thank goodness it was a sunny morning). Without a blow dryer, I had to wing it on my hair. But by last night I had things more manageable--my neighbor and I had supper from a restaurant down the street so we didn't have to open our refrigerators, and then I read on the porch until I couldn't see. Came in and did some "piddling around' stuff, and then settled down with a manuscript by candlelight--much easier to read than the small print in the book I'm reading.
I learned a couple of things in this dark period--first, I really can survive without my computer on all the time, though it was hard for me. I also missed watching the evening news--I want to keep up with what's going on in our poor old world. But the thing that struck me most was how eerily silent a house without electricity is--we're used to the a/c sounds, the refrigerator clicking on, the washing machine or dishwasher going. Without all that it's almost spooky. Sue next door said last night she opened a window, lit a candle, and sat in her favorite chair reading. She heard all kinds of things she wasn't used to--people talking as they walked their dogs, laughing as they came home late from who knows where. Sue said it made her feel like she was eavesdropping but I thought she should have felt cheered that she lives in a real neighborhood, in the best sense of the word.
The storm itself was something to behold. I was dressed to go to a program, but the friends I was going with and I kept trading phone calls and delaying our departure--finally we just cancelled the whole thing. I've seen rain and flat line winds in Texas before but not often--it was amazing to stand at the front door and watch the rain blow down the street, which was soon at least ankle-deep in water. I was fortunate and did not have any damage but throughout the city there are huge trees uprooted and many home suffered flooding from overburdened sewers and runoff that came too fast. Jean and Jim, with whom I had evening plans, said they got 3.5 inches in about 20 minutes.
Before all that I had intended to go to the program--a presentation by one of our authors who is also one of my favorite people, the prof who hand-carried me through graduate school. His book, Boys' Books, Boys' Dreams, and the Mystique of Flight, studies the series books for boys of the '30s, '40s, and '50s and their importance in shaping the aereonautic culture of our country. Jim, a pilot, would have found it fascinating, and I'm sorry we missed it. The show went on--with only about 15 people there.
After the program I intended to come home and blog, but now I can't remember what I was going to say except that the new medication is making me feel worlds better. I may not be ready to jump on a plane to Canada or drive to California, but my footing is more sure and my peace of mind is greatly improved. I don't wake with a sense of dread any more. Of course, old fears are hard to forget--and I have to remind myself that I can do things easily now that I wouldn't have tried a month ago. I haven't given up my walking stick--Sue says it's a fashion statement now, and I'm actually looking for a new one--I saw a shorter one with a silver head in the hardware and I think it would make a nice go-to-church stick.
I'm also looking for one of those painted screens people used to use to cover their fireplaces in summer--Jacob makes a beeline for the fireplace every time he is at my house. He smiles most engagingly when we tell him, "No! Hurt you!"
A week from tonight I'll be expecting the whole gang--and cooking up a storm.

Storms, Stress and Hanging Out

I just walked outside, and the sky has that luminous sort-of-yellow look it gets after a storm has passed. There was no storm--just a few big drops of rain and distant thunder that caused me to turn off the computer for a while. But now, while it should be twilight, the light is very different. When the first hint of a storm came, Jordan, Jacob and I were in the family room and suddenly my dog, Scooby, began jumping at the door, frantic to get in. It was my first hint. I told Jordan it was going to storm, and she said to let him in, but I hesitate to do that with Jacob. Scoob is the world's sweetest dog and would never hurt anyone (except maybe if he caught a squirrel or that darn black cat next door), but he's over-enthusiastic. At almost eight, he thinks he's still a pup (he's an Australian shepherd and they're noted for being "lively" to say the least) and bulls his way through life until he settles down at my feet in the evenings. So Jordan went home to escape the rain, and I brought Scooby in, much to his relief. He's terrified of storms.
Jordan and Jacob had come over because they'd been home all day and were bored and wanted to "hang out," something Jordan has pointed out I do not do gracefully. I often bow out of invitations to her in-laws because you go for a two o'clock dinner and it's served at five and meantime you hang out--too many things in this world that I want to do. I don't sit and make small talk for three hours--at least not easily. But I hang out with Jacob--he's standing by himself, and he crows all the time. When that baby found his voice, he really found it bigtime. I fixed an impromptu supper of a dab each of leftover pasta from a restaurant dinner last night and a large salad with blue cheese dressing. My favorite new recipe: rub a garlic clove over the wooden salad bowl, then rub in salt and dry mustard. Put in a generous amount of blue cheese and a Tbsp. of vinegar. Mash and blend. Then add two Tbsp. olive oil and whip it up. Put in the greens and toss--you don't need croutons, tomatoes, onions, anything else. If you want a bigger salad, just increase the amounts but keep it two oil to one vinegar.
A lesson in stress reduction: today I found myself getting really anxious at work, to the point that I got all hot and could feel that my motor was running too fast. It was because lots of things landed on my desk, and I had one big project I wanted to get to and never did. Jordan lectured me tonight on not needing to get everything done at once. She says I gave her that particular flaw too, and we both need to get over it. I did bring the big project home tonight and got almost all of it done--some has mysteriously disappeared, so I couldn't go any farther. But none of it was as big a deal as I made it, and I'll go to work more relaxed tomorrow.
Meantime I had a wonderful lunch with my boss, June, and my good friend Jeannie, to thank Jeannie for hosting a TCU Press party at her fabulous old house. We went to an upscale innovative Mexican restaurant--no enchiladas. I had carpaccio and a blue cheese salad (twice in one day!). Then Jeannie took me to pick up my car at the dealership where it had some repair work. She knew I was feeling stressed and, bless her, went in with me, stayed until I got my car and then drove around to her car to get my stuff out of it.
Just as we were doing that, my cell phone rang. It was Lisa from the King Ranch--where we're going next week and most excited about staying at the main ranch house. She said a man whose name I didn't recognize at all had called and said he was an old friend of mine and I'd invited him to dinner at the ranch. I assured her I would never invite anyone to someone else's dinner party without asking and besides I had no idea who he was. Puzzling and kind of scary.
All in all it's been quite a day. But storms, stress, and all, I feel a curious kind of calm tonight. So now I'm going to finish that mystery I'm reading, which will probably destroy my calm but what fun!