Twelfth Night

Tonight is Twelfth Night, or Epiphany, the night when Christians recognize that God came to earth as a human being in the form of Jesus Christ. This revelation is particularly tied to the Magi, and I'v always thought of Twelfth Night as the night the Magi brought their gifts of frankincense, myrrh, and gold to the Baby Jesus. When I tried to explain that tonight to Jacob, he fixed me with a long look and said, "I don't know what you're talking about." (We've got to get that child to Sunday school!) But Twelfth Night is also the night when you must take down the last of the Christmas decorations, lest you run into bad luck.

When I was a child, neighbors semi-adopted me, showering me with gifts and attention. I called them Auntie E. (Emma Elizabeth) and Uncle Jack, and she, always the grand lady, had a tradition of each person burning a small branch of the Christmas tree on Twelfth Night and making a secret wish. We've done that in my family ever since. Jacob came into Tree Trimming in early December asking "Are we going to burn a branch tonight?" So tonight he was most excited that we were actually going to do that. From the pictures above, Jacob was obviously the focus of our celebration. It's getting harder and harder to find fresh greens, since everyone has fake trees, but Susan and Jay had a green wreath, and she brought the greens and took part in our burning ceremony--Jay was out of town. It's a nice way to put an end finally to the holiday season. And, fittingly, Christian, Jordan, and I put the decorations back up into the attic for another year.
As I said, I've been revising my second mystery since my mind was already in that world. But last night, to my horror, I disovered I only had nine chapters, maybe half the novel, on my hard drive; then I discovered on a zip drive a file titled No Neighborhood for Old Women revised. Guess what? I'd already revised it once and maybe done a better job. So now I'm starting all over, checking for extra words, outlining by chapter--nice that I have something to keep me busy. I'm actually not too upset--the more I go over it,the better I'll make it. I still feel that I don't have control of the plot, and I can pinpoint things that need to change.

Saturday stuff

I would tell you today wasn't much of a writing day, but it turns out that wasn't true. I went through three more chapters of the first in my Kelly Jones series--looking for ways to punch up her character, and once again finding I like the way it flows. I don't see much room or need for change--indeed, punching up might sort of jar the flow of the book.
But other than editing, which I did tonight, it was a pleasant day. Early (for a Saturday morning) I followed my neighbor Sue to her car repair shop, then she and I met my good friend Jean for breakfast at the deli--always a treat. Sue drove my car home--told me later it made her nervous, maybe because she knows how attached I am to that car. Jean and I went shopping for supplies and refreshments for a TCU Press reception October 3 and did very well for just over $100. We went to Costco for stuffed marinated olives, big pretzels, and smoked almonds, and three bottles of wine to supplement what I have left from another function; then at Party Warehouse we got napkins and glasses. Came home just in time for a yoga lesson--Elizabeth says I'm doing well, and I can tell a difference. Strangely enough my feet don't bother me as much since I've been doing some foot exercises. Then I grabbed a bite of lunch, picked up Sue, and we went to Central Market. Home to nap, and then take Sue to get her car. Whew--a busy Saturday.
Tonight, just for me, I made sloppy joe. That's not what it really is--I found the recipe thirty-some years ago in a wine coobook. It was called, appropriately, "Wine Casserole," but since it's hamburger (I used bison tonight), beans, canned tomatoes, various seasonings and red wine, I always told the kids it was sloppy joe. Several years ago Megan asked for the recipe. She fixed it for Brandon, who said it was really good but it wasn't sloppy joe. Megan emailed me, rather archly, that she guessed she was the only child who grew up thinking red wine was an essential ingredient of sloppy joe. I had a taste for it, so now I have a whole bunch of it, even though I went back for seconds--shame on me.
Colin bought a bigger generator today, so they have more power at their house. I told him that meant the power would come back on this evening, and he said he thought it would have come on before he got home from the store. But so far it hasn't.
I read something tonight about the majority of Americans (I forget how many) believing in guardian angels. The instances cited were sort of near-death escapes, and I do remember one time when a truck almost ran me down--I didn't see it because I held an umbrella to shield me from blowing rain, but I know the driver must have seen me and can't understand why he didn't stop sooner. But that's not so much what I think of when I think of guardian angels--I think there's one who watches over me in general and keeps my life on a fairly even keel and quite happy. The blog where I read this suggested sometimes our guardian angels might be those who have gone before us, and of course there's the possibility that my folks are watching over me, but I think I pretty much had a guardian angel even when they were still living. No, that angel stopped me from all dumb mistakes--and I made a couple of really big ones--but it generally it's kept me on the straight and narrow path to happiness, and I'm grateful.