Lovely day, crazy weather, and chocolate

Yesterday it was shirt-sleeve weather--in the seventies; today it was in the low fifties with a cold wind in spite of sunny skies; tomorrow it will be in the seventies. Welcome to North Texas. Still it was a lovely, lazy day--grocery store, household chores--including changing linen on the guest bed. I hate to make beds so I do it by stages--put pillow cases on, several hours later, put sheets on. Still have to put the comforter, pillows, and decorative blanket in place.
No news to anyone but dieting sometimes makes you very hungry. I fixed myself a lovely lunch of one deviled egg, hearts of palm, and brown rice and flax crackers with hummus--healthy, no? But I went back and had a banana, and then, because I was writing a guest blog about chocolate, I had some chocolate--third piece I've had since New Years. Tonight I had two small new potatoes, a bit of spinach and a half hamburger--still hungry. Had blueberries. And I'm still hungry! Discovery: when you cook hamburgers in salt, as I do (my mom taught me that) blue cheese makes them too salty.
But I had fun this afternoon researching a blog on chocolate and writers--actually didn't come up with as much as I expected, but chocolate, for all its possible negative effects--obesity, migraine, etc.--is a "feel good" substance. Debate rages: does it make us feel good because of it's so rich, sensual, creamy, gratifying, dense, and silky smooth--or because it has flavonoids and caffeine and actually gives us a chemical boost? Now to apply that to writing--in 500 words.

Diet Gone awry and other sundry problems

Today I had a wonderful lunch at Nonna Tata--a salad with corn kernels in it and just a bit of balsamic vinaigrette and braseola (the Italian beef version of proscuitto) dressed with lemon and olive oil and thin shavings of grana cheese. It was sided with a vinegary potato salad that I reallly like--so there went points for the diet. Tonight I had leftover filet of sole in a half sandwich with tomato and onion and then went back to finish off the bit of sole that wouldn't fit in the sandwich. And then, by gosh, I decided I was tired of being hungry and ate a piece of chocolate, thereby blowing my points for the day all to smithereens. I suppose it happens to everyone who diets, but I can't help equaiting my mid-day extreme anxiety to the diet, and I'm beginning to wonder if it's wise, notwithstanding the 5 lbs. I've lost.
This morning when I drove up to work, Sandy, one of the two insurance consortium peole who office in our suite, came out to give me a hand in--so thoughtful of her. And once she helped me up the step I walked confidently into the office. She'll never know how much I appreciate the gesture. But when I left for lunch, I went out the other door where the only "open space" is perhaps three feet from a stone wall to a railing--froze, couldn't do it, finally did. Struggled along the fence and then, with difficulty, down the step. Once on the ground, by cars and railing, I was just fine. Jean sat in her car and watched all this, then drove up behind my car--maybe four feet from it. I tried, couldn't walk that four feet, asked her to come get me, and she shook her head--"You can do it." Finally, she back up, drove closer, and of course I walked easily up to the car. It makes no sense, but I am very tired of it. The trouble going in and out of the office is clearly a sign, and the best I can do is laugh about it. Yes, Marcia, I ate a banana at 10:30--no nuts though.
A bright note: the man who has been doing my lawn told me he's going out of the lawn business. I am only partly sorry--I was paying him a lot of money, and he didn't do flower beds, didn't understand flowers, etc. Jay suggested that one of our neighbors (who has a beautiful back yard) does yard work, and so Greg came by tonight. I'm delighted. He told me what he'd do, what he charges (very resonable), and we agreed on native plants, etc. He has apparently watched my front yard as he walked his dog over the years and admird most aspects of it but knew what needed to be cut back, weeded out, etc. He's coming Friday, which couldn't be better because Jordan is bringing 22 women over for a book-signing late Friday afternoon.
Think I"ll go sit on the porch and read--and maybe blow the diet more with an extra glass of wine--and then I'll come in and work. I'm at a difficult part in my novel--but oh so near the end of the first draft. Much more work to be done.

TGIF

I woke up happy this morning, hurried through my routine to leave the house at 7:29 and sailed into and through the grocery store (a painful process last week since I've been having lots of "I can't walk from here to there" spells) and went into the office to announce boldly that I could walk again. Got a lot of work done, but when I left to go home, I couldn't make it across the concrete porch or entryway or whatever. Went back and got Melinda, who cheerfully walked me to the railing; after that I was fine. She pointed out that I start out the day in fine shape and fall about in mid-day, and I confessed that I had started to feel uneasy about 11 a.m. "Low blood sugar," she suggested. Made sense to me, and I may call the doctor Monday to ask about it. Meantime, when I get home, have lunch and a glass of wine, I'm fine.
There are some heavy things going on in my life that I'm not free to blog about that might be heightening my anxiety, but then again, I thought Melinda had a point. And the new recurrence sort of corresponds with my beginning of the Weight Watchers program. They say you should always consult your doctor before beginning a diet (especially at my age) and I hadn't done that, thinking Weight Watchers was nothing but good sense. And aside from yesterday's lapse, I'm doing a good job of staying within my allocated points, even with some wine. Tonight I had smoked salmon, hearts of palm, artichoke hearts, steamed squash, cherry tomatoes, and--oh my goodness--raspberries. They're my splurge, but they are sooo good.
And I'm into the final stretch of the mystery, writing the "climactic" scene tonight--not quite through with it, but I'd written 1200 words and decided that was enough taxation on my brain for one night. Fred told me yesterday that from what he's read he thinks it's coming along well. Wish I'd hear from the publisher who has the first one.
Tomorrow I get Jacob from noon Saturday until noon Sunday--the longest stretch I've ever kept him. I know John and Cindy keep their granddaughter, Emery, for days and even a week or so at a time, but I plead there are two of them and one of me (and John admits Cindy does all the work). And Jacob is much more energetic than Emery! Last week he was a whirling dervish. For support, I've invited the neighbors--Jay and Susan, Sue and her kids--for dinner, and Sue is going to bring the beau she's been reluctant to introduce to us. Jay will grill hot dogs and bring potato salad and a fruit salsa, Sue will bring tossed spinach salad and cookies, and I'll provide hot dogs, buns, condiments, and baked beans, plus chips and a more traditional salsa. Once I had a recipe for a great and easy salsa that was I think made from tomato sauce and tomato sauce Imperial plus garlic powder and jalopeno juice--I can now find neither the recipe nor the tomato sauce Imperial. I hope it's a porch night, though it's hard to control Jacob on the porch. If it rains--predicted--we can grill hot dogs on my indoor Jenn-Air. Should be fun.
Sunday Jordan will come about eleven to get her baby and we'll have lunch.

Anxiety and a sense of humor

My anxiety problems come and go, and right now, after a period when I was soooo self-confident and walked across parking lots with ease, they've come back. Another name for the problem is agoraphobia, which as far as I can tell has two meanings: fear of fear (probably with me all my life, accounting for a dislike of flying, though I do it on occasion, a dislike of being in an elevator by myself), a pure avoidance of escalators, etc. But another is fear of open spaces, and that's what's tripping me up right now. I particularly have trouble getting from my house to the car in the garage and back again and also getting into my office, though like many phobics I have devishly clever ways of coping, circumventing, etc. But this time I am much more philosophical about the whole thing--I refuse to live my whole life this way, and I know it will pass, as it always does. My doctor tells me there's no accoutning for when it comes and goes, so I've tried to stop analyzing whether or not it's the dentist appt. in the morning or the lunchtime speaking engagement (actually I think I'll enjoy that). Since I once took a spectacular fall outside the dentist office, they know me and I only have to call and ask them to walk me in and out, and they're gracious. So I'm trying very hard not to take it seriously, not to let it dominate my thoughts, and to be honest about it. When Sandy, whose window looks out from our side of the office, asked why I went in the other door today, I explained that I'd had a panic attack going in the usual way the other day, and she seemed to take that just fine. So wish me luck, folks. I think this will be a mild attack, short in duration, and I'm optimistic. Meantime I'm coping. Now if I could banish those 6 a.m. thoughts!
Had lunch with two friends today who are both on Weight Watchers--it sure does make for conversation.Jeannie thinks my point limit is too low, but Jean says it's because I'm shorter than Jeannie. Anyway tonight I had a good supper and just barely stayed within my points for the day--half a sirloin pattie on rye bread with mayo and sliced tomato, and a salad made of the rest of the tomato, an avocado (the point killer, even though it's good for you), blue cheese (just a little) and lemon juice. My oh my, I did enjoy that, with a glass of wine of course (another point killer).
A working day. Got lots done at the office--writing contracts, etc., all acquisitions work that I enjoy. Plus the GooglePrint settlement keeps rearing its ugly head--and getting more confusing each time. Then came home to a desk full of projects, including promoting the cookbook. But I have a new novel idea kicking around in the back of my mind. Wrote a longtime friend about it today, just exploring, and he thought it was really good and could go places. So now I'm determined to finish the WIP (Sisters in Crime shorthand for work in progress) and get on with this new, totally different project that will require me to go back and research a lot of material I once researched thoroughly. But since I've been looking for a project that will engage me, this may be it. Moving on, I think, is always good.

Watching my diet--with dismay

For one who could barely button her favorite pants on Monday, I haven't done very well today. Went to a luncheon where the buffet was vegetable soup--the broth looked greasy, so I took veggies without much broth--and croissant sandwiches--me, who's not eating carbs. And then the dessert was irresistible for a chocaholic--a sqaure of chocolate cake with a layer of strawberry cream something and iced in mousse-like light chocolate frosting. I didn't eat the last bite--and that, I decided, meant the cake didn't count. Then tonight I went off to the local restaurant that is offering Lobsterama--a whole lobster for $13.95. What I rationalized is that seafoord is good for you, and you really don't eat that much butter when you dip the bites of lobsters. I had salad, but righteously came home and resisted either chocolate or the apple crisp. Last night I sent all my weekend leftovers home with Melinda--her twenty-one year old son is living at home temporarily and she has to feed him. He apparently ate all the stuffed pork tederloi and a good bit of the chili/cumin potatoes. But I didn't send the apple crisp. I want some more of it, and I figure Jacob will like it tomorrow night. Funny, sophisticated kid. So far, I have hummus and apple crisp on his menu. Need to think of a little protein and a little green.
The luncheon I went to today was called "What's on Your Bookshelf?" Human Resources sponsors it for emloyees once a month and invites various authors. The author today writes sort of romance/fantacy/strong women's lit, and I was not prepared to be impressed. Nor did she initially make an impressive appearance. But she was drop dead funny, charming, uninhibited, just a great speech. The thing I came away with it from is that "if you believe it, you can do it." She writes a syndicated column five days a week, does radiio and TV shows, and writes novels. (Okay, she sleeps four hours a night, and I really really need eight). But when I started into this mystery writing business, my thought was that if I believed it, it would happen. Sometimes, lately, along the way, that conviction has faltered. But I intend to get it back now.
We had our first norther of the season today. It was cool and drizzling a bit when I went to work, but by the time we went to the luncheon--my whole office went across campus--it was sunny and surprisingly warm. By the time we came out, it was dismal and quite cold with a sharp wind blowing. They say we're in for severe weather, though mostly east of us. That always presents a dog dilemma--if I fed him, he'll want to sneak in the house, and I couldn't let him do that before I went to dinner. But it actually wasn't threatening, and he was fine. Tonight, debated but set the thermostate at 70 and turned on the heat--and I think it just kicked in. Fall is here.

Diets, yoga and life in general

I ate a gingersnap today. It was stale, but I dipped it in coffee and it tasted pretty good. And then the guilt hit me--a cookie is not on the diet I've sort of invented for myself--no bread or rice or pasta, only occasional potatoes, no ice cream sundae every night (okay, I really was doing that, but they were very small sundaes), and no bread and butter at ten o'clock at night (especially bad, since the kids always say, "Have a little bread with your butter, Mom--I really like butter). And no eating after seven or eight at night. I don't weigh daily, so I have no idea if its working or not, but I feel better about myself and feel thinner--which of course can be horribly misleading. I also heard the other day about a woman who lost 40 lbs. in ten months or so by doing yoga faithfully--and I'm doing that, though not daily. I alternate with my bike so that I get the cardio--I do four miles in 20 minutes at an average of 11 mph and at the second level of resistance. No one has told me if that's good or bad, but it seems pretty good to me. So then tonight I had that ice cream sundae--hey, its Friday and I needed a splurge. I feel much more guilty about the gingersnap than I do the sundae--no carbs there!
This weekend I'll cook meals pretty much on my diet--open-faced egg-salad sandwiches with smoked salmon and fresh tarragon, accompanied by gazpacho, tomorrow night for old and dear friends, and Sunday a leg of lamb with a potato/onion/tomato something--you put the vegetables in a baking dish, layering with thyme, then put the lamb over it on a cake rack and roast the whole thing, so the drippings go down into the vegetables. This is in part a splurge for me--we frequently had leg of lamb when I was a child, and I love a cold lamb sandwich--and a thank-you to my neighbor Jay for taking Scooby to the groomers.
The AgentQuest listserv that I'm on has been kicking around the term "postmenopausal woman." One of the writers wanted to use it to describe her heroine in a pitch to an agent, but most of the others felt the word was a pejorative and conjured up bad imagees. The originator replied she meant it to imply zest for life and later explained how wonderful her life has been since 50. I totally agree with her--these are the happiest times of my life.
Fridays are sort of like my vacation. I worked this morning and did a lot of planning for the spring '09 season (we have to work way ahead), went to one grocery (another tomorrow), and did manage to go through a very short (56 pages) manuscript for the second time. But tonight I'm indulging, reading the Deborah Crombie novel I bought earlier in the week and enjoying it, though I have some questions about structure. I've been embroiled in an e-mail argument with an old friend in El Paso about Cormac McCarthy--a recent article, by another friend of mine, suggested that McCarthy ought to go back to being a recluse instead of appearing all over the place on Oprah, etc. My El Paso friend found that mean-spirited and launched a lively defense of McCarthy and his brilliance as a writer. Frankly I've never thought that--he's way too bloody and graphic in his violence for me, and I thought All the Pretty Horses was affected rather than natural. Besides, his emergence as a media star after years of shunning everything public has a sort of unbelievable air about it--like his agent convinced him. But my friend beat me down, and I finally agreed to disagree. I talk with people who think McCarthy's work is great, but I also talk with as many or more who have no interest in hm. The world of literature is amazingly lively.

The trip that wasn't and other things

Tonight I should be on a plane to Scotland. It left, without us, at 5:20 from DFW. By now I've grown accustomed to the missed trip and almost put it behind me, but the day does have a certain poignancy. Jeannie's husband is doing well, will be moved from ICU to Progressive Care tomorrow and probably to a rehab facility late in the week. He's out of the woods, and that is the greatest blessing. And, I must confess that excited as I was about this trip, I am not a comfortable traveler. It was a challenge for which I'd worked myself up, so now I have that feeling of "Whew! I don't have to worry about getting on a long flight across the pond." Granted, excitement over the trip was a much more dominant emotion that uncertainty about travel, but that element is still there. Jeannie said Jim looked at her today and asked, "Is this the day you were going to Scotland?" and when she said yes, he said "You'll go later." We will, and maybe the exchange rate will be better. Meantime I've got a new book to read: The Creaky Traveler in the North West Highlands of Scotland: A Journey for the Mobile but Not Agile. Boy, does that fit me!
I've read my first novel on my Kindle, amazon's hand-held reader, and I liked it a lot. I had stockpiled books on it in preparation for Scotland and now decided I should start reading them. So I read an Aurora Teagarden mystery called Real Murders and got hooked on it. Found the Kindle every bit as easy to read as a book, though I'm sure I'm underusing it. I keep meaning to read the directions but that hasn't happened yet. Also anticipating Scotland, I'd sloughed off on the projects on my desk, but tonight I worked on my chapter for Grace & Gumption: The Cookbook and tomorrow I'll get back to being seriuos about Scots in Texas. I don't like not writing. Writing is a whole big part of who I am.
My cat and I are at war. He wants fresh food every time he's hungry, while I maintain he should eat the perfectly good food that he left behind in his bowl. I even take a spoon and fluff it up so it's easier for him to eat. Sometimes he doesn't even check the bowl. He just comes to stalk me, sits at my desk and stares at me forlornly. If I get up for anything, he leaps head of me and heads for his food dish. Now I know he's old--sixteen, I think--and needs indulging, but he's carrying it way too far. There was a period when I thought he was fading--his once luxurious tail looked like a rat's tail, he was thin, and he just didn't look well. The vet couldn't figure it out. But I sent the fantastic pointsettia I'd had since mid-December home with Melinda for her to plant, and Wywy improved quite quickly. His tail filled out; I think he gained a little weight; he was interested in my tuna fish and scrambled eggs and almost anything I ate. No poinsettia next year!
Speaking of food, I was in the doctor's office last week and I've gained eight lbs. So I'm cutting down on the outrageous amounts of butter I've been cooking with and cutting out the chocolate sundae I loved in the evening. No more Girl Scout cookies in the afternoon. And pretty much I'm off red meat, though not a strict thing. I bought a ton of vegetables when I shopped this weekend. My goal is seafood and vegetables--sounds good to me. Oh, yes, I'm off cottage cheese. Once before I quit eating cottage cheese and lost so much weight my brother was alarmed. But these days I'm not eating so much of that for breakfast and am eating oatmeal, which is supposed to make you lose weight. If I'm gaining because of oatmeal, I'm going to feel really cheated.

Quiet night

Shhh! Quiet! Jacob's asleep. He went down without a peep. This is his first time to spend the night with me, and his mother was more worried, I suspect, about my sleep than his. But so far, knock on wood, we're off to a good start. It's been a babysitting weekend. Yesterday I went to Frisco, got a brief glimpse of Maddie and Mel before they left on a Girl Scout camping trip, and then spent the evening with Jamie and Edie. This morning, Jamie had a sprint triathlon (he took second in his age group and sixth overall--pretty darn good!), and I stayed with Edie. At one point, she fixed me with her direct look and said, "Are you babysitting me?" I told her yes, and she asked where she would be if I hadn't come. I told her that her daddy wouldn't have done the race, and that seemed to staisfy her. Together we watched a lot of the food channel, though she insisted on turning it off because two programs in a row featured shrimp and she doesn't like shrimp.
It's been a good two days for me. Disgruntled authors and pesky business reports and all the things I worry about all the time are in the way far background. I slept heavily last night, albeit with weird dreams of which the only one I remember is that I was at the Democratic National Convention as part of Hilary's team. Is that a message? But this morning I woke feeling really good about the world, me, everything. I counted my vacation days, and I have more than I thought stockpiled, so I may take them to get that "being away from it" feeling. But I'll have to leave town! Wish I could find someone who wanted to go to Santa Fe for a week!
Weighty matters on my mind? Not many. I'm afraid I've also been escaping into mysteries. I read two more Cleo Cloyce coffeehouse mysterires, and enjoyed them, and now I'm reading--on my Kindle--an Aurora Teagarden mystery called Real Murders. I'd been saving the books on the Kindle for the Scotland trip, but now I feel I should be reading them. I find it easy to read on, though I know I'm under-utilizing all the marvelous things it will do. And I have to watch, because I occasionally hit the wrong button and it bounces from book to book. Sort of like Jamie's laptop when I tried to answer an email and it kept bouncing from line to line. I gave up.
Jamie talked to me again about his conviction that you have to believe in your goals, believe they'll come true, or they never will. That bounces me back to my mystery--I am convinced it's as good as many on the market (though the last two I've read are really erudite in references and solid in constrauction) and yet I'm not sure I believe I'll ever get it published. In a way, to me, it's like religion--a part of me would like to have a "born again" experience so that I could believe without a doubt, but I remain a liberal Christian who questions and doubts and always wonders if I've found true faith. It seems to me, in both cases, the burden is on me. And so I struggle with my mind, trying to convince it to believe.
I may start tomorrow very early, depending on Mr. Jacob. But his mom will come to get him about 9:30, and I'll go to Central Market to get stuff for dinner that night and for supper all week. I have gained some weight, and I'm going to start watching it much more carefully--all that butter I use to cook, the chocolate sauce I pile on ice cream at night. It's salads and veggies for me for a while. But tomorrow I'm cooking lamb burgers for Jordan and Christian--maybe Jacob will eat a bite. There's always an excuse for putting that diet off. But I really am going to watch. But after that Central Market trip--a good nap!