Waiting for Godot

Or suspended animation. Or waiting for the other shoe to drop. All of those are how I felt today. Last week was really busy, the weekend even more so, and I told myself Monday I'd start all over again. But this morning I thought, "On what?" My food book is with the editor, and I've heard nothing about the other two posssible projects headed my way. The answer of course would be to dig right in and get to work on my novel--but it's hard to get back to after I've been away from it so long and while I'm anticipating being drawn away again. So I piddled this morning, did a laundry, did my yoga, answered emails. Then lunch with Fred, where we mostly talked about the current state of the world and I had a great tongue sandwich. Then this afternoon I read, figured out a menu for next Sunday night for a welcome for the new neighbors, and napped. I can distract myself all day going through recipes. Close to the end of the mystery I was reading so I finished it tonight. Really should write character descriptions of the primary people in the novel, and maybe I'll start on that. Also I have a review book on my desk. Not as though I don't have things to do--I just don't know which one to start or where or why.
Good supper tonight. I snitched some chopped chicken liver at the end of last night's party, maybe two tablespoonsfull but enough that I could tell I was eating schmaltz. So good. But to counter all that fat and bad organ meet, I had a half ear corn and a half of a yellow squash. Split the squash, cleaned out the seeds, spread with olive oil, and grilled it until charred and soft. Then brushed it with a mix of sherry vinegar and fresh oregan, and topped it with panko crumbs that I'd sauteed in olive oil with garlic and just a bit of crushed red pepper. Really good--I'll try that one again. And much easier on the diet than the cheesy casserole I usually make of yellow squash.
Today it was only 92 and cooler weather is supposedly in the near future. Can't wait. We've been blessed with plenty of rain, but this heat has been unreal.

An international buffet

The Bookish Frogs met at my house tonight for a buffet (they're a community support group for TCU Press). Food was to be supplied by contributors to Grace & Gumption: The Cookbook, but as more than half of them were unavailable, I panicked--in my usual manner--about having enough substantial food. I could see a buffet of desserts with only my spaghetti chicken. Turned out the other way, and we had an international buffet--chopped chicken liver (do you know how much I love that? Even really made with schmaltz--oh, my gallbladder!) and chicken soup from the Jewish community, enchiladas from the Hispanic community, brisket from the African American community, and a Middle Eastern platter of snacks from Dan, the new director of TCU Press, and his wife, plus chicken spaghetti that I made (enough for Cox's army), pork spareribs, wonderful biscuits, a great bok choy salad. It was a happy evening, and everyone enjoyed it immensely. Some sat on the porch--it was warm but not too hot. Others perched at varioius places. Susan Petty, my former and still colleague, did a great job of organizing and also of moderating a discussion from the contributors who were there. Fun for all.
I had spent much of the morning "straightening" the house, looking at details I normally overlook and trying to fix them. Wore me out. I even vacuumed when I realized how much dog hair there was on the rug in my study. Made a queso-type dip, still have about 2/3 of it left, plus a lot of chicken spaghetti, even after Susan took some home. But it was a fairly quiet day--I got to read, had a good nap. Still tired tonight, after everyone left.
But much credit to Susan  for helping get everything together and to the contributors who were here plus to Dan's wife, Cynthia, for helping clean up. Susan expected to be here until nine but was out the door at eight, and other than dishes in the drain basket and dirty flatware in the dishwasher, you'd never know I had a crowd in my house. I'll tackle those tomorrow, when I plan to have a slow and lazy day.
The evening was one of those that makes me feel blessed, for being involved with such wonderful people, for having them in my home, sharing good food with good people. Between yesterday and today I have had a full but wonderful weekend. And I am, as the saying goes, bone-weary.
But I think Susan sold quite a few books, which is quite a good thing.

Rain and other good things

Most of Texas is stuck in a 50-year drought which is calling up memories of the drought of the 1950s and, for me at least, of Elmer Kelton's classic novel, The Time It Never Rained--if you haven't read it, you should. But in Fort Worth yesterday and today we've had intermittent slow drizzle and, nicest of all, low temperatures. Not enough rain to make a difference, but as I write I can hear it raining again. Granted, it's awfully humid, but tonight there was a nice breeze on the porch. I had dinner guests and one of them is a self-confessed "weather wuss," so we didn't even have wine and appetizers on the porch. But last night I sat out for a while--no wine, no book--and just enjoyed the drizzle.
Today I took an umbrella with me but only used it on the way to my garage--when it was raining pretty hard. Went by the office to pick up some files Melinda had put on a disk, and then Jeannie and I had lunch at a restaurant where we don't go often enough. I splurged on a half a pimiento sandwich. Oh, my big good news--I lost the weight I had gained when the kids were here and can now boast again of a 10-lb. weight loss. But it's taken lots of weeks to do it. Slow, they say, is best. Anyway, Jeannie and I went on to Origins so I could buy some cosmetics with my birthday discount and then to DSW where neither of us saw shoes we couldn't live without.
Tonight, friends Kathie and Carol came for supper to celebrate the July birthdays Carol and I share, albeit a little late for both birthdays. I fixed the seasoned hummus I did when the kids were here, chicken loaf (I loved it so the last time), roasted asparagus with goat cheese and panko (a waste--plain asparagus would have been better), and a fruit salad. It was a fun evening.
But what they say about retirement is true--you're just too busy to get anything done. I have several projects on my desk and just committed to another one--a contribution to a history of the Texas College of Osteopathic Medicine/University of North Texas Health Sciences Center. I'm to write about "The Beginning," which believe me, I was there for. So 3500-4000 words shouldn't be too hard, but first I have to finish this cookbook I'm editing.
And best of all, I can still sleep late, digress when I want, go to lunch (my social calendar is very full!), and I'm actually learning to slow down. When I get emails that would have required a director's decision, I gleefully pass them on to my boss, the interim director.

Brussel sprouts

The lowly Brussel sprout. Most people despise them. I remember eating them boiled as a child and not particularly liking them. When my kids were little, I used to douse them in hollandaise which went over fairly well. Since my brother's son is named Russell, we called them Russell sprouts. But I haven't thought much about them in years. Recently one or two attempts to shred and pan fry or shred and roast proved sort of disastrous. But tonight I roasted them--tossed them in olive oil, lots of salt and pepper, and put them in a 400 oven. It may be that's too hot or my oven runs too hot, but the outer leaves charred. Still the outside was crisp and the inside soft and good. I really enjoyed them. I also made salmon croquettes. Megan called while I was cooking and said, "Yummm!" When the kids were little for a while we had the teenage daughter of friends living with us--they had moved, and she wanted to finish high school where she had started--also didn't want to leave her boyfriend. At the same time, we had a pediatrician friend who was a bachelor, and he used to show up unannounced for dinner. I can remember one night when Jeanine looked out the window, saw him turn in the driveway, and asked, "Why does he always show up when we're having salmon croquettes?" They were a great favorite then and remain one now. My mom taught me to ignore all those recipes that call for mashed potatoes and use cracker crumbs as filler. I made a small can of salmon into croquettes tonight, so I had some for dinner--and, double yummm!--some left for a sandwich tomorrow at noon.
I'm in a phase of writing little bit, no matter how little nor how mundane, every night. I figure it's sort of like putting one foot in front of the other. My full manuscript of the first novel in the series has been out to one publisher since eary February, but I vow to be patient--they require an exclusive, so I'm not submitting elsewhere. And that's kind of pleasant--not to worry about who I should be querying. I've about decided, as cometitive as the mystery market is, to forego the agent route and concentrate on small publishers. And if no one picks up the two books I've done, I have an idea for a historical mystery, but it would involve lots of research.
Today Jeannie and I went shopping for supplies for the Books & Music in the Garden event Sunday--that girl is nothing if not efficient. We went to the Party Warehouse, Costco, Swiss Pastry Shop (where we stopped long enough for lunch and I wolfed down a bratwurst, kraut and German potato salad), and finally the liquor store--all in about two hours. Along the way, though, we snuck in a stop at a funny mall-like place where one booth features Flax clothing--Jeannie dragged me in there, didn't buy anything, but I did. I got a lovely shirt that is sort of a peacock blue and shimmers with different colors, the way that peacock feathers do. John and Cindy gave me a flax dress for Christmas that I really enjoy wearing, so they kind of led me into this too.

Writing and other stuff

A few days ago, my mentor, Fred, emailed me his comments on my WIP (that's Sisters in Crime lingo for work in progress). He thought it was progressing nicely, pacing was better, I was getting more comfortable with the characters--but one episode bothered him and needed clarification. So night before last I did that, which was fun and I did much more than he originally suggested, quite a bit of rewriting and expanding. But then last night I was back to where I'd gotten stymied--what was going to happen next? I could see events on down the road, but I didn't know how to get to them. So I did what I know to do--I forged ahead and wrote. The general theory--and Fred and I talked about it today--is to write something, anything, with the knowledge you'll rewrite. But that moment of writing will get you off dead center. And already I can see episodes and incidents that need to come before what I wrote last night, so maybe I'm off and running again, if I can keep life from interfering with my writing, which it has a way of doing.
I had lunch with Fred today, and we talked about the ultimate end of my book--I can see two villains, and no one will, I hope, which one puts the main character in danger--and who's guilty of what. Fred thought it was a great idea but tricky to pull off, and that may be what's stopping me. Then we talked about an idea he's working on for either a series of articles or a book--I of course encouraged him to make it a book. Sounds intriguing. He's done two books with TCU Press since he retired, and I'd like to see another one.
So tonight, I'm going to write those missing episodes that are now in my brain. It's really true that once you start writing, it flows, and your characters tell you what's going to happen. Alas, not so for Fred who writes nonfiction and has to do lots of research.
Meantime life has still been getting in my way. Yesterday was Jordan's real birthrday and she looked forward to lunch at Cafe Aspen, our favorite. But in the morning she woke with a painful, scratched eyeball--I've had that in the past, once, and it may well be the most painful episode in my medical history. She thought sure she could go to the doctor, he'd fix it, and she could go on to lunch--so sure, that she took a bag of make-up with her to his office. But he told her to go home and lie down in a dark room. So no lunch. And so far we can't find a time to reschedule.
Yesterday afternoon the AT&T installation person came--maybe the eighth one I've had here. But he fixed the ugly kitchen installation to the best of his ability, and it does look much better--no more looping cord going up the wall. It's much less intrusive. I wonder what Jamie will think of it. The AT&T guy also said not to put the flat screen TV in the bathroom--Jamie gave it to me for Christmas for that purpose--he said the moisture from showers would cause it to crash. I think I'll look for one of those radios that my dad had that plays the audio portion of TV programs. I fervently hope I'm through with AT&T problems!
Today I ran a pharmacy errand on the way to work, spent the morning keying in dull corrections, and had a most enjoyable lunch with Fred. Then raced to pick up Jordan so we could go to the bank and transact some business. Then home for a little work, nap, and exercise--and dinner with Betty. We went to a bistro where one of my former interns is a chef--decided we'd split wasabe scallops. Heather herself brought the plates out, but I took one look at those crab cakes and said no, we'd ordered scallops. In a minute, both the waitress and Heather were back asking what we'd really ordered--I said scallops but it was no problem. We'd eat the crab cakes. Turns out they were scallops, just the biggest I'd ever seen, each the size of a good-sized crab cake, and the brown crust was the wasabe crust. Embarrassed, I said you just can't take unsophisticated diners anywhere, and Heather laughed. But it was a really good dinner, with a goat juice topped broiled tomato and haricot verts. And the scallops were sweet and tender--and not overcooked so they were rubbery. The wasabe touch was just right, though I got one bite that really cleared my sinuses.
Thursday and Friday promise to be a bit hectic too--I tease Charles about being fanatical about getting to bed at 7:30 (he does stay up later for some events) but I find I am getting every bit as fanatical about my nap. Still, so far this week I've worked in a nap and exercise every day. Hope that continues.

More grandkis, food--and only a bit of writing

Jordan and I had a delightful time in Frisco with Jamie and his family--and Jacob was so loved on, he was exhausted. Both girls were delighted to see him. Edie kept giving him kisses and rubbing his head and cuddling close to him while they watched Spiderman (amazing technical effects--I'd seen the beginning but never that spectacular ending!). But Maddie was the little mother--Jamie told her this morning she was the cousin that all the others would think was like an aunt. At the moment she was busily cleaning a sippie cup and putting chocolate milk in it--a rare treat for Jacob. She's a natural born nurturer and really keyed in to Jacob's every need. When Jordan left the breakfast table to go get him dressed, she found Maddie had already dressed him and taken him to the potty again. He was so besotted with Maddie that any time she asked him if he wanted to potty, he did. Steak dinner, good company, a delightful time. I sat in a chair in the rec room last night with a book, but I kept staring at those three children huddled together. Maddie looked at me once and said, "What?" and I just said "I think you're all pretty wonderful." I am truly blessed with family.
Another lazy day--we were home by noon, and I unpacked my suitcase (it's amazing what it takes to be away even for one night), fed my neglected animals, ate some lunch, caught up on emails, and had a good two-hour nap. We lost an hour last night, of course, and I really didn't sleep well but still managed to doze until 7:45, which was 8:45 by this morning. I plan to go to bed early tonight and tomorrow, no one else will be in my office, so---shhh!--I don't plan to break my neck to get there at 8 a.m.
A food note: yesterday while waiting for Jordan to pick me up for the trip, I watched the food channel, and there were Paula Deen and a guest slathering butter, brown sugar, and cinnamon on dough and rolling it up to make breakfast rolls which they then iced (the icing to too much icing on the cake to my mind). I wanted to say, "Come on, Paula, stop acting like that was just invented--I've done it since I was a child." That's how my mom made coffee cakes, Christmas cakes, and pecan rolls, and if I weren't so lazy about rolling out the dough, I'd still be doing it. My kids clamor for home-made rolls, with Grandmother's recipe, at holidays, but it's a lot of work. Mom had what she called "Everlasting Dough" because you didn't have to bake it all at once--you could keep it in the fridge, though it did tend to rise out of its container. I don't know what kind of dough Paula was using, but you can't beat Everlasting Rolls. The recipe, with all its variations, is in my forthcoming cookbook. (A shameless plug!)
I've been reading a lot this weekend--a proposal for a novel, for one. The author sent the whole thing in some time ago, I sent it back with rewrite suggestions, and he sent back the first 50 pages. I was hooked and asked for the remainder, but he has a capitalization disease--capitalizes every other word, and my red pen itched, but I don't make marks on preliminary copy that will go to readers and the board. I sort of think I'll attach a note to the manuscript's trail for whoever edits. That worries me a bit--it's like I want to control every project (whoever edits will no doubt be perfectly capable of fixing those capitals) and I realize someday I have to retire and let go. It can't always be done my way. More's the pity!
I've also been reading an advances of a mystery. Patricia Batta posted on the Sisters in Crime listserv and asked if anyone would be willing to read galleys. I guess I was thinking in terms of proofs, because I thought she wanted a proof reader. Turns out it was a bound advance galley, and she wanted a blurb. That threw me, because I have no published mystery credits, so who am I to blurb a book? I read it, at first thinking how I would have done this and that, but her plotting is really good and I soon got caught up in the story. So tonight I sent off a blurb. I recommend you look for Why Did You Die in the Park soon at your local bookstore or on the Web. Now if I can only do as well. The book is, by the way, proof that you don't always have to hit the big New York publishers--this will come from Lillimar Publishing in Traverse City, Michigan.

Stuff

Often, when I write my children or good friends, I simply label the e-mail "Stuff." Well that's what this is--random thoughts and comments about not much. I haven't posted in a couple of days, and I'm well aware of that. I just didn't have much to say. Super Bowl is always a boring day for me--I mean, come on, day-long pre-programming on NBC? And moving the time of Meet the Press, one of my favorites? I kept NBC on muted much of the afternoon to try to catch the Obama interview, finally decided to take a nap, and when I woke up, there it was. I was glad I caught it, and particularly glad to hear his tales about family life in the White House. I heard him again tonight in an interview with Brian Williams, where he took full responsibility for the gaffs that resulted in the withdrawal of two of his nominees, including Tom Daeschle, who I always thought was one of the good guys. What I liked a whole lot was that he said he took full responsibility--he admitted his error, something we never saw from our previous president.
Charles came for dinner Sunday night, and we had a pleasant visit. I fixed scallops, with stir-fried vegetables--grape tomatoes, sugar snap peas, and asparagus. Tonight, Jordan, Christian, and Jacob joined me, and I fixed shepherd's pie--Jacob loved it, and Christian said he did too, but he picked all the green peas out.
I've been proofing the final set of pages of my cookbook memoir-and I'm embarrassed at the things I missed the first time around, including some recipe directions. But it's done now. I'll fax the corrections in tomorrow and take responsiblity for errors that appear.
This morning I decided being in a blue funk was not a good way to live, and so I talked myself out of it. Had a busy morning at work--conference with my boss, the dean of the library, and heavy talk about budgets. So tonight I set about the task of carving $1900 out of my already slim budget. I plan to present it at staff meeting tomorrow and get opinions, before I turn it in. Running the finances is my least favorite part of my job. Next I have to turn my attention to what can legitimately come out of carryover. I'd really rather be writing food articles and mysteries, thank you.
Tomorrow we go to look at possible autograph party sites for our September title, Calvin Littlejohn: Portrait of a Community in Black and White. Littlejohn photographed the black community in Fort Worth from the '40s through the early '90s, and his is an invaluable record. I've wanted to do this book for 20 years and am delighted that with the Center for American History at UT-Austin, this is coming true (they hold the archive of most of his photos). Bob Ray Sanders, a Star-Telegram officer and columnist, put the text together for us, identified far more people than I thought he could, and will take us on a tour tomorrow. This is a book I'm really excited about.
Meantime, I've got a new issue of Bon Appetit to prowl through, so excuse me, please.

Neighbors

I don't know about Robert Frost's line about "Good fences make good neighbors." Between my neighbors to the west and me, there's a hurricane fence in the back and an open iron one in the front--neither are what you'd call privacy fences. To the east, my neighbor and I share adjoining driveways with no fence until you get pretty well down my driveway where I put in a fence to control dogs. But the fences don't seem to matter--we are all good neighbors, and I'm lucky to have these folks around me. Believe me, for years I endured much less desirable neighbors but that's a long story and I won't go there.
Jay and Susan live on the east in a wonderful, charming stucco house that they've redone with grace. They're there to stay. On the west is Sue, in a small brick rental that fits her and her two children perfectly. Except for deferred maintenance, she's very comfortable there, and I hope she stays a long time. Last night, Sue didn't have her kids, so we four adults had supper at my house. I am beginning to fear that when I invite them to supper, they'll wonder what leftovers I have to get rid of this time. Last night I fix scalloped potatoes with ham and melted cheese on the top. When I took it out of the oven, Jay said he recognized the aroma from his childhood--I sent all the leftovers home with him. But I really had to use that leftover ham from New Year's. Maybe next year I'll make Hoppin' John--my kids always called it Hoppin' Uncle John.
Jay is a good cook who enjoys it, and today he made beef stew, so I joined them and one of Susan's sisters, Cathy, who tried to teach Colin and Megan to swim some thirty-seven years ago. We had a great reunion and a lively dinnertime conversation--plus the stew was excellent. So I'm in the glow of good neighbors and grateful for them.
Today was the first day back at work after a two-week vacation. I admit I slept fitfully last night, probably aware of all that was on my plate and the fact that I had to get up at 6:30 instead of 8:30. I worried about getting Scoob up early and out but turned on the light about 7 a.m. so he'd know what's coming. Actually the day would have been fine if it weren't so cold and rainy. I got a lot done at the office and a lot more at home, but no, I didn't work on mysteries.
My next goal is to submit my first mystery to a small publisher that I've chosen, but tonight after dinner I came home to 35 emails, which took most of the evening. One day I'll get caught up.

Boxing Day

We did no boxing today, having thrown all the boxes away yesterday, but we treated the day like a holiday. Lisa and Colin did a Juju outing and dragged the kids to two places I wanted to go: Kenny & Ziggy's deli and Booked for Murder. I was so determined to eat ethnic food at the deli that I ordered a latke, which we shared, and chopped liver, thinking to compare it to what I usually get--I know, I know, I have to give it up. And today's serving was so big and rich that I am now through with it for a long time, definitely a good thing. But afterward, I wished I'd ordered one of their supersandwiches, like pastrami and tongue with Russian dressing. Just reading the menu is sheer delight for me.
Booked for Murder is one of the country's best murder bookstores. One of our authors suggested I go there, and I'd forgotten it but went happily, especially when I found out that all used books were 50% discounted. I got two hardbacks and two paperbacks for $11, not that I needed more reading material. Lesson learned: I bought a Phyllis Whitney novel, set in Norway--Whitney because I used to love reading her books, Norway because Lisa's mom grew up there, Lisa has visited often, and she's interested in cozies--so I thought this the perfect match. I'd read the book by Tuesday and leave it for her. Problem is the novel was written in 1972 and try as I might this afternoon, I couldn't get into it. It was too introspective, giving me all the troubles I often have with British cozies. I guess style in cozies changes--and then there's that age-old question of what authors' works will be read a hundred years from now--I don't guess Whiteny will make that cut. I gave up. I've started the newest P. D. James--it always takes me a while to get into her works too, but Mary Lu assures me it's such a wonderful book I should persevere--and besides, as Mary Lu says and I agree, she writes beautifully. Except I've already wished for a dictionary a couple of times.
I had given Lisa two books for Christmas--a Margaret Truman and a Diane Mott Davidson. Tonight we decided she should start with the Truman. All is quiet--I think the household is suffering from the "day after Christmas" letdown. Kegan slept in the car while we were out and about and so didn't get his good nap; Morgan "rested" briefly, ran and played, and then fell sound asleep on the couch for two hours. Now both are down, Colin's asleep, and Lisa and I are at our computers but ready to go to sleep.