Are you involved in the world?

I have a good friend who is involved in all kinds of statewide civic causes that reflect the wide variety of her interests—The Texas State Historical Society, the Texas Institute of Letters, the Texas Folklore Society, alumni organizations and boards, state committees on the humanities and other such. She’s been president of a lot of those things, and every week finds her flitting to Austin or some such. Now she says she’s accepted a spot on the board of the Dallas Public Library. And whatever she does, she does it full throttle. And then tells me her schedule is going to do her in. I chide her for spreading herself too thin, but the truth is I’m proud to know her and a bit envious of the contributions she makes to the state, particularly to the humanities.

One of the things I thought I would do when I retired was volunteer. Over the years, feeling the need to make some sort of contribution, I’ve tried various things: a stint at the Museum of Science and History, giving kids talks on beach trash and its dangers, a session with an on-line volunteer program that had me coaching young writing students via the internet—it turned out to be so poorly administered that I gave up. My vision of volunteer work is working more at my church (there was a period when I did a lot of that), making sandwiches at the local night shelter, being a museum docent, the hands-on kind of stuff.

But it has dawned on me that I do a lot of volunteer work, for causes I care about, right here at my computer. I am a volunteer monitor one day a week for the Sister in Crime listserv; I am a member of the steering committee and membership chair for Guppies, the Going to be Published sub-group of Sisters in Crime (publication does not mean automatic expulsion from the group). I edit my neighborhood monthly newsletter, which often runs into a 20-page publication, and each week I welcome first-time visitors to University Christian Church—by phone if I can catch them and by email if not. I actively promote rescue dogs and sites on Facebook because animal welfare is a subject I am passionate about.

And I’ve done my bit in the past, as president and longtime board member of Western Writers of America, chair of Church and the Arts Committee at my church, secretary of the Texas Institute of Letters.

So maybe it’s dawning on me that I’m not the sloth that I thought I was. I do contribute to my own special world and more important the things that I do keep me involved. That, besides having meaningful work, is what I hope will keep me young in spirit as my body ages. I truly believe being involved in the world is essential to the happy life.

A luncheon talk and some spiffy bling

Yesterday it was my great privilage to speak to the opening luncheon of the Women's Ministries at my church--about 80 women. They are embarking on a mystery reading program this fall and thought it would be fun to begin with one of their own. I felt honored. Given free rein to talk about anything I wanted, with books as the theme, I talked about my writing from the age of ten on. As all writers can imagine there were lots of trials and tribulations and a lot of funny things that happened along the way--like the time I won the best juvenile novel of the year award from the Texas Institute of Letters and the woman presenting said, "Good old so-and-so (I have no idea of his name) who usually wins this award didn't enter this year, so it  goes to Judy Alter." There was laughter at that and a lot of other stories I worked in along the way.
Speaking doesn't come easily to me, though everyone says I do it well. They just don't know the agony I go through beforehand. I made my friend Betty listen to this one in the car Friday on the way to Granbury, and she pronounced it interesting and funny, so I was somewhat reassured. She said she'd listen on Sunday to see if I forgot anything I'd said on Friday--guess not since she didn't complain.
Afterward several women said they thought they knew me before, but now they knew a lot more about me. Hmmm--didn't think I revealed any secrets. What Betty said was, "I never knew you went through all that." I think readers don't recognize how much rejection and discourgement writers face on the way to a career. I hope I was able to present it with humor and optimism.
My daughter Jordan was there as moral support and a help when I was signing books. I know most of these ladies, but the best of us can have memory lapses while signing--I was grateful the church plastered big name tags on everyone.
About a week before this a close friend called to say I needed to look spiffy for the luncheon. "Spiffy?" I asked. She explained she didn't exactly know what she meant. Maybe Jordan would know. Jordan decided the only seasonal spiffy in my closet was the bright purple I'd worn to church the week before, so I bought spiffy in Granbury. If  you read the previous blog, you know about my buying an aubergine (okay, eggplant) top with a ruffle and a bit of bling--a lilac and silver long but skinny kind of thing you can fling around your neck in various ways. I'm never good at that flinging stuff nor am I really the ruffle kind--my retirement wardrobe consists mostly of jeans, capris, and big shirts. Spiffy with bling were the subject of much discussion at the luncheon...and even at a lunch table today where one of the ladies had read the earlier blog.
The chuch has a WILD Women book club. That name always threw me--I don't quite associate Wild Women with a church--but it turns out that's an acronym. The group raises money for the Heifer Interntional project, so WILD stands forWomen in Livestock Development. They'll discuss Skeleton in a Dead Space on the 18th, and I'll go back for that discussion.Then they'll move on to Julia Spencer-Fleming so I'm in good company.

The Music of Easter

One early Easter morning,
I wakened with the birds.
And all around lay silence,
too deep for earthly words.

When I was in children's choir, a century or more ago, we used to sing that on Easter morning. Those first lines are all I can remember. I can hear the melody in my head, but awful singer that I am, it didn't come out that way when, in the privacy of my car this morning on the way home from church, I tried to sing it. I really can't carry a tune in a bushel, I breathe at the wrong time in a line, and my voice quavers. My friend Betty, organist at my church forty-plus years, says I'm the only person she knows who reads music while singing a hymn (unless it's one I know well).
But I've never been able to find the complete anthem. Betty has never heard of it, and I even googled it--only to find the first two lines, which I already knew. If someone knows anything about it, I'd be grateful to hear it.
I haven't been to church in, probably, two years--no one factor and maybe a combination of several. When I was having a bad time with anxiety, that was one thing I didn't want to do--though it's the logical place to go for solace. But I never ever liked going to church alone, and it's way too easy to get out of the habit, especially since I can get the 11:00 o'clock service on the radio. But this morning I got myself together and went to church alone. Somehow I didn't want to miss the joy of Easter--and I didn't want to miss the music.
Don't get me wrong--I have a deep faith in the message of Easter. The minister this morning said that the quesiton so many ask is, "Is the resurrectoin real?" It's the worng question; the question really is, "Where is the resurrection?" and each of us must work that out ourselves. He said he never berates an Easter congregation but he does ask, "Are you here as a tourist or a pilgrim?" and I truly am there as a pilgrim, finding my way on the journey.
But University Christian Church is particularly known for its spectacular music program, and this morning it was glorious. We sang "Jesus Christ the Lord is Risen, Allelluia!" and "Crown him with many crowns"--I can sing most of both from memory going back to my childhood. Sometimes I have been known to sneak out of church during the last hymn so I can "beat the crowd"--don't ask why I'm in a hurry, because I don't know. But today the choral benediction was the "Hallelujah Chorus" and I stayed for every last magnificent minute. I may be literary not musical but I enjoy strong vibrant church music. I am really glad I went to church this morning.
Lovely Easter dinner this evening, though I sort of got the dregs of the Burton family. Jacob had played hard all day at his grandparents house (I'm not a grandparent--I'm Juju),  fell asleep when they were almost at my house, slept for a long time in the car while we had happy hour on the porch with Jean Walbridge and Jim Clark. And, of course, when he woke up, Jacob was cross, grumpy, whiny, awful. Christian kept saying, "He's really charming at his best." We ate without him--if I do say so, the butterflied leg of lamb was delicious--I made slits in it and inserted a mixture of fresh rosemary (I have huge bushes in my yard), chopped garlic, olive oil, and anchovies--then let it sit in the fridge. I seared it in the oven, then runed it down but somehow I took the meat out, I turned off the oven when I meant to turn it up and put the tiny new potatoes and onions back, so the potatoes were a bit crunchy though the boiler red onions were really good. Jordan's salad was delicious, and I sinned and had a small chocolate cupcake for dessert. I lied and told WeightWatchers it was low calorie--figure that made up for the size.
Jacob suddenly became charming as we were finishing dinner, ate his supper, chatted gaily and told Jim he'd like to come to his house some day to see his workshop. No telling with three year olds, but the rest of us had a really pleasant evening.