Possible new writing project, Jacob, and, as always, food

My agent emailed today. He has a publisher who wants a book on lynchings in the Old West and how they reflect the development of law and order on the frontier. Told the publisher he had a writer with a good knowledge of the history of the Old West--that I may have, but lynchings have never been my subject, nor, really, has law and order. I always wrote about women in the American West. Still in the face of an assignment, I can explore new territory, maybe even going at it from a woman's point of view, because women banded together in anti-lynching societies, and it's always said women brought law, order, and community to the American West. Lots of research ahead, but if the publisher and I like each other and settle on a contract, it should be fun.  Till it's settled, I'm going to continue working on the Texas food book. The novel is going on the back burner for the time being, though it was going well, and I was excited about it.
Jacob arrived about five-thirty tonight, so it's not a night for serious research on any of my projects. I'll have him all day tomorrow--our big adventure is a trip to the grocery store. He measures time in "after nap," so night-time and nap time are the same in his mind. "After nap" tomorrow, Mom will come, we'll all have dinner, and she'll take him home. I'm so grateful he still takes good afternoon naps. Sunday I'm a working girl.
Fort Worth has one of the ten best new restaurants in the country, according to Bon Appetit. It's Ellerbee's where I've been several times for lunch and once for dinner. The article included a recipe for heirloom tomato salad, which I'm going to make for Jordan tomorrow night. I never buy heirloom tomatoes--they're so expensive, and I can't tell the difference, but I bought two today, made the dressing, and baked chicken breasts for a chicken salad I once made. Jordan loved it, but I don't remember what was in it, except that I added blue cheese. With blue cheese in both the chicken salad and the tomato salad, she'll be a happy camper.
Tonight I cooked gluten free spaghetti (which essentially means it's rice spaghetti). The instructions said to boil 4-6 minutes, so since I was only cooking a small amount I settled on four minutes plus a few seconds. Underdone. Not sure if that's why Jacob didn't like it or if the sauce was too spicy for him. But he definitely didn't like it. My gluten free phase was probably one of the shortest of all my experimental lifestyles. Definitely not for me. I couldn't eat blue cheese!
Jacob has gone through his bedtime routine peacefully and is watching TV. The test will come when I tell him it's time to turn it off. But we are ahead of our usual schedule, and I'm feeling optmistic.

Activists, food research, and women's groups

In one day last week, my seven-year-old granddaughter, who has the softest heart of any child I ever saw, wrote a letter of support to the SPCA, complained to her mom about all the plastic bottles in the ocean, and asked if they couldn't adopt another Orca whale at the museum. I love it! Her uncle in New York suggested she would next write a letter to BP, and her mom responded with a supposed message that the child would sign, "Love, Eden." And she probably would!
Yesterday I had lunch with the acknowledged Texas food guru on the newspaper staff--and he put the name to the topic I've been fiddling about: iconic Texas food companies. I would also add iconic Texas foods--the stuff of myth and legend. He drew the line between true food research and food folklore, and I said I wanted to combine a bit of both. But it was a fascinating talk. And I'm more enthusiastic than ever about my new project, but except to write up my notes from talking to him, I have done nothing but focus on my novel. I estimate I've written 3,000 words in the last three days, and I can see it taking shape in my mind. My mentor Fred read a portion of the early part and responded with lots of questions and possibilities--to my surprise, I knew the answer to all of them, so I really do have it worked out in my mind what's going to happen. And as I write, one scene inspires another. Not sure if this is called free writing, writing without an outline or what. I have that general idea, but then my characters tell me what's going to happen. The whole business of long days without TCU Press has disappeared within--what? two or three weeks! Some day I piddle so in the mornings that it's almost lunch time before I'm showered and ready for the day. Doesn't bother me a bit. I read emails, the newspaper, work out, etc. in the mornings. After lunch--and I try to eat out with friends often--I work and read, then nap. In the evening I work and read again--a delightful routine. Except that I'm in the midst of the second Stieg Larsson book, The Girl Who Played with Fire, and I'm hooked. Not getting as much work done as I want.
Tonight I went to a party to celebrate former neighbor Sue's new house--it really is lovely, so much more spacious than what she had. And it has a wonderful, huge party deck. Few people I knew, but enough--Jordan, Christian and Jacob, Jay, Gregg and Jamie. Had a good time until bugs and heat got to me. When Gregg and Jamie decided to go home, I got my keys out of Jay's car and came with them. Still it was fun, and nice to be out.
LIfe is sweet.